#this is my third attempt at making this post and finally I got through without crying

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[jjjjeonww]

yoon jeonghan and his ridiculous ways of trying to make you his valentine.

~~7 years of jeonghan's life was spent pining over you, and each year on each valentine day had a special yet ridiculously cute way of him trying to make you his valentine. author's note: just a special something for valentines!! i know im like late to post something but i haven't had anyyy motivation for the past week so i guess this is an apology! pls enjoy <3!! tags!: ( @wonkierideul ... my nini <3 ) ( @kissbyoon first person that came to mind when i was writing this LOL!! my lili <3 )

every valentine's Day for the past seven years, jeonghan had been trying to find increasingly ridiculous ways to ask out his long-time crush, you. his friends would tease him mercilessly, but he remained undeterred, convinced that one day his grand gestures would win your heart. and here is all the silly ways he has tried! (and the way he had finally won you over)

Year 1: jeonghan's first attempt was hiring a skywriter to spell out "jeonghan loves y/n" in the sky above your college campus. however, the pilot had terrible penmanship, and the message looked like a string of nonsense scribbles. you just shook your head and chuckled when you saw it. Year 2: for your second valentine's day (as friends, you said.) , jeonghan tried to recreate their first meeting by "accidentally" bumping into you, hoping to sweep you off your feet. he rented a fake ambulance and hired an actor to play a stuntman. however, the actor lost his nerve at the last second, causing the crane to crash into a nearby tree. you just watched the chaotic scene unfold and couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous spectacle. Year 3: in your third year (again, as friends.), a group your mutual friends surprised you with a coordinated dance routine in the campus cafeteria. unfortunately, none of them had any rhythm or coordination, and it looked more like a pack of drunk penguins flailing around wildly. you tried to hold back your laughter as she watched the disastrous performance. Year 4: jeonghan had sent you a life-sized teddy bear holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, with a note confessing his love. the problem was, the bear was so large that it wouldn't fit through yourr apartment door. you had to call maintenance to help you get it inside, and by the time they were done, the bear was missing half its stuffing. Year 5: for the fifth year, he had a billboard erected in your hometown, declaring his love for all to see. however, he forgot to account for the fact that your hometown was a small, conservative community. the billboard was vandalized with graffiti within hours of being put up. you saw a picture of it online and face-palmed at the ridiculousness of it all. Year 6: jeonghan chartered a hot air balloon to take you on a romantic flight. you were supposed to fly over a scenic valley, but the balloon got tangled in a grove of tall trees. instead of a romantic view, you had a bird's eye view of the inside of the canopy, with branches scratching the balloon. you couldn't stop giggling as you both slowly descended, the balloon deflating around them. Year 7: for your seventh valentine's day, he wanted to do something truly special and heartfelt, without the usual grand but ridiculous gestures. he spent weeks planning the perfect, cute way to ask you out and confess his seven-year (and counting) love for you.

on the morning of February 14th, heonghan showed up at your doorstep holding a single red rose and a small, heart-shaped box wrapped in shiny gold paper. when you opened the door, he the gift to you with a nervous smile.

"y/n, heh morning. and happy valentine's day!" he began, his voice trembling slightly, "so... i know i've tried to express my feelings for you in a lot of silly and ridiculous ways over the years and i know you've rejected me countless times, even when it wasn't valentine's... but this year, i wanted to do something simple and from the heart."

you opened the box to reveal a handwritten note inside, with a cute doodle of the two of you holding hands. "i drew this picture of us together because i want to be by your side, always. i want to go on adventures with you, share laughter and tears, and face whatever comes our way."

jeonghan looked up at you, his eyes filled with sincerity and love as you read the small note: "dear y/n, you are the most amazing person i know. your kindness, your intelligence, your beauty inside and out - it's everything i could ever want in a partner. i love you so much, and i want you to give me the chance to be yours. i don't just mean it just for valentine's day, i mean it from the bottom of my soul. i hope one day you give me that chance, where you can lay your soul bare and naked to me, for i have done the same to you. xoxo, your future boyfie, jeonghan!"

he took a deep breath after he saw your eyes drifting back to him, "so y/n, will you please go on a date with me? not just today, but every day, for as long as you'll have me?"

"you finally decided to do it simply hm?" you replied, eyes drifting down to the note again. jeonghan chuckled and nodded, "yeah..." you giggled and kissed your index and middle finger before tapping his cheek. then you placed your lips to the same spot where you had tapped it with your index and middle finger. he couldn't speak, it was as if you had broken him, well you did. now he's like a robot that can't function at all! his hand went up to his cheek, "oh my gosh... was that real?" you laughed and hugged him, "yes it was you silly." his hands instantly wrapped around you and he whispered, "finally, you're my valentine..."

[complete-clownery]

Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)

So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk

So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it

Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---

Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it

Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad

So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens

Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is

We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac

Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))

so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol

Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)

Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.

I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)

And that all ((((hollly mother))))

If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒊 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆…

part 4 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - you finally made your decision.

warning - angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, attempt at gaslighting, betrayal, disappointment.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 5

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You had woken up the next day, and you just laid there. You couldn’t move, your entire being ached, you were exhausted both physically, emotionally, and mentally. You had never felt this exhausted in your whole life, you never felt this broken and stuck. 

You knew you had to choose. The weight on your shoulders was bringing you down and you didn’t know if you could go on any longer without making a choice, a decision that could change your life forever. 

You could either pretend and live on in an obvious one–sided marriage while your husband continues to sleep around with your EX–best friend and any other woman he has on the side OR you could confront him and leave, making him sign the divorce papers that you would have to get a lawyer for the moment you left. But it would mean you would have to start all over again. 

You flip onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, the memories from last night flash through your mind again, your husband and ex–best friend fucking each other in the bathroom, them fucking while you “slept”. You don’t think you could do this again nor could you pretend that everything was okay. You could hear them from the lounge room, their voices the only thing filling the quiet home. They sounded happy as they bantered and teased each other. 

You slowly slide to the edge of the bed and sit up. Your eyes connect in the mirror, and you finally look at yourself. You didn’t recognise the woman staring back at you, she seemed so lifeless, so broken. Where had the old you gone? Was she still there? You could see the sadness and rage swirling beneath your eyes, followed by bags and dried tears underneath. 

You were so sick of crying. When did you become so weak over a man?

Everything seemed to click when those beautiful blue eyes appeared in your mind. You could finally feel yourself think more clearly, you finally knew your decision. You weren’t making your decision because of those eyes, but they seemed to help clarify what you wanted. You could feel your soul tugging as the unknown man appeared in your thoughts. 

With one last look at yourself and a deep breath later, you turned. Ready. 

And finally, you chose yourself. 

“You got this.” You say and you will forever say it even with tears in your eyes. You move swiftly around the room, grabbing a suitcase from your cupboard and laying it down on the bed. You begin to pack, folding your clothes neatly before you place them in. You move onto shoes, accessories, makeup, perfume, and anything else that was yours. Once you zipped up your suitcase, you looked around the room. Your eyes caught in the mirror, and you finally felt freer. 

You grabbed your suitcase and spare outfit and left the bedroom. Resting the suitcase against the front door, you head into the spare bathroom as your other had been tainted with your husband’s infidelity and your ex–best friend’s betrayal. 

You had taken your time in the shower, washing the pain and sadness from your body. You even took your time making yourself look good, wanting him to regret his choices the moment you left him. With a final look in the mirror, you head out of the bathroom and into the lounge room. Your soon–to–be ex–husband and ex–best friend sitting too close for comfort, the sadness and anger that had been bubbling over had slowly disappeared as a blanket of numbness covered you. You could finally focus without your emotions getting in the way. 

“Somehow, I expected that this would happen eventually.” Your voice fills the room and the two on the couch jump apart, eyes wide as their heads whip towards you. You stare blankly, your heart still hurts but it was good. It was reminding you of what they had done. It was true, the old you had expected this would happen, but you were so caught up in thinking he loved you that you were blinded by him and his lies. “Given your history, I should have known better.” 

Johnny chuckles nervously, looking between you and Sarah. He wasn’t expecting this, but maybe he could lie and get out of it. Make you think it’s all in your head. “Babe, what are you talking about? I haven’t done anything!” He had to be careful, you hadn’t said what it was and if he wanted to lie, he couldn’t give anything away by saying the wrong thing. 

“So, you didn’t cheat on me?” You decided to play dumb. You remembered who you were, and the game changed. You wouldn’t let anyone make you forget again. 

Johnny scoffs. “Of course not, Babe! I love you! We’re just friends.” It was at that moment that he knew he fucked up.

“Just friends, huh?” You laugh. “Well, just friends don’t practically sit on top of each other especially when one is married, just friends don’t flirt with one another in a not so platonic way. Just friends don’t fuck each other in the bathroom while one friends wife is showering, just friends don’t slip out of bed when they think their wife is sleeping to fuck their friend in the other room. I’ve never had any friends like that, Johnny.” Your glare sharpens as you spit his name out with venom. 

His mouth opens and closes, and Sarah’s eyes widen. “How did you find out?” 

“You fucked her in OUR house! How do you think I found out?!” Your anger began to push against the numbness, wanting to be unleashed “I also remember everything. Every time you’d leave, look at another woman only for you and her to disappear a few minutes later, how you’d always be on your phone, OUR wedding.” You watched as they paled at the last part. 

“Babe! It was never supposed to get this far! Trust me, I’m so sorry!” He gets up and moves closer to you. Hurt flashes through his eyes when you back away from him, the thought of him touching you again disgusted you. 

“Get away from me! You’re not sorry, you’re just sorry you got caught! So don’t lie to me! I can’t believe I trusted you.” You could feel it, the blanket of numbness was slowly slipping away, and the tears returned, but they didn’t fall like before. 

“Did you ever really love me...?” Your gaze shifted, your ex–best friend didn’t even look guilty, it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders. What did you ever do to her? “Do you love her?” 

“Yes, I love you! I don’t love her, please believe me. It was just sex! She means nothing to me.” You could see the lie in his eyes, you wondered when he fell in love with her. You wondered if any of it was real. You wondered if his soul tugged the same way yours did when you bumped into that man, but if it did. Why didn’t he just leave? Why did they have to hurt you so bad? Why did they have to break you? 

You shake your head. “I don’t believe you.” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “You made a promise. The same day you made that promise you had your dick in someone else. Tell me, was any part of this at least real?” You stared into his eyes, watching him think. You sighed, “Do you have any regrets doing this to me?” A part of you needed to know.

Instead of answering your question, he responded with. “Do we really have to end it all?” Your eyes ached from the weight of unshed tears. He was your home, did he not understand? But, you weren’t his and it was time for you to go.

With a heavy sigh, you ignore his question like he did yours and pull off your wedding and engagement ring. “I loved you in this lifetime… I won’t make that mistake in the next.” With shaky hands you push the rings into his chest, letting go of them as his hand comes up. Hoping to catch yours, but instead he only catches the rings. “Goodbye, Johnny. I guess our story ends here…” You walk out of the room and towards the door, grabbing your things. This was it…

Maybe she was his happy ending. Hopefully you could find yours.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mallllii]

Staying right here instead

a little domestic fluff to get over the anxiety I get from posting my writing on here. this is much scarier than ao3.

pairing: dabi/hawks

wordcount: 1.1k

Nights were unpredictable living with Keigo. Even though Touya had done his best to fix his own sleep schedule within the past few months and tried to work on his insomnia, he rarely managed to just sleep through eight hours without disturbance. The main reason weren’t his own issues though, it was Pro Hero Hawks.

His schedule was packed with all kinds of jobs and ever-changing. Not even Keigo himself was able to remember all of it and often noticed he still had work to do at the very last minute. And since this work included night patrols and him being on call, a full night of sleep was a rarity in their household.

This time, Keigo had gotten an emergency call at around 11pm. He’d been in the middle of brushing his teeth and hadn’t even gotten a chance to lay down, even though he’d had a full day of work. Touya was simply thankful that he hadn’t been sleeping either and didn’t get startled awake for once.

In the last few hours, he’s been dozing off every now and then, but his mind refused to fully shut down. Whenever he felt like he was almost there, he was suddenly wide awake again.

Frustrated, he stared at the alarm clock on Keigo’s nightstand and wished time would go by faster. Or slower. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted at this point. Watching the minutes tick by, the time it took for the last digit to change seemed longer and longer each time.

After what felt like eternity, his eyes finally started to grow heavier and the numbers blurred together. By the time they closed, Touya had been staring at that stupid clock for over an hour.

He jolted awake when he heard the balcony door open and wanted to scream into the pillow out of frustration. With great effort, he tried to focus his eyes on the alarm clock, but they wouldn’t adjust to the light.

One room over, he heard Keigo take off his shoes. By the sounds of his movements, all slow and deliberate, Touya guessed he tried his best to be quiet. For someone with stealth training who could follow a person for hours without getting noticed, he was surprisingly bad at it at home. Or Touya simply had great perception and could analyse his surroundings like the professional he was. That must be it, not the fact that Keigo probably just relaxed immediately when he got home.

His vision had fully come back now and he could see that it had only been about twenty minutes since he’d fallen asleep. Great. Fantastic, even. What a successful night.

He got the urge to scream again, but Keigo chose this moment to enter the bedroom and he quickly pretended to be asleep. The last thing he wanted was for Keigo to have to worry about him after a stressful day. Of course, the overly observant feathers saw right through him, despite his best attempts to even out his breathing.

“Oh sorry, did I wake you up?” Keigo whispered, concerned.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled and rolled over to watch him strip out of his suit. Even just his silhouette in the dim lighting of the digital clock was breathtaking.

How Touya deserved all this was a mystery to him. As much as he hated being woken up in the middle of the night, he often felt like the luckiest man alive. The descriptor clashed with literally every other aspect of his life, but at least he had this relationship.

Keigo left the room again to take a shower, his third of the day. It was necessary to wash off all the dust, grime and occasional blood, Touya recognised that much. Still, this couldn’t be healthy for the skin in the long run. But unlike his, Keigo’s skin was always soft and unblemished, so what did he know, really.

While waiting for him to finish his shower, Touya untangled the blanket from his legs and scooted more to the side of the bed to make room for a second person. He’d given up on sleep for the night, the least he could do was to make sure his boyfriend got some well-deserved rest.

After a while, the bedroom door opened again and Keigo dragged himself to the closet to put on boxers and an old shirt. His hair was still damp and Touya caught the scent of his vanilla shampoo when he slipped into bed.

Despite the fact that he should be used to the proximity by now, his heart skipped a beat. He was glad for whatever made Keigo want to be this close to him. Touya certainly wouldn’t if he had a choice.

They laid there in silence for a few minutes and he was convinced Keigo was already dead asleep when he suddenly turned to face him, propping his head up on his hand. “Why are you just still on your back like a corpse?” He poked Touya’s arm. “And you’re so tense. What’s wrong?”

Touya waved him off and turned his back to him. “Stop always overthinking shit and go to sleep.”

He should’ve expected the arms wrapping around his waist, but it caught him off guard anyway. Keigo felt cold from flying outside for so long and the freezing showers he always took to ‘keep his hair healthy’. It was a pleasant change for his constantly overheated body. He leaned back into the embrace against his will.

“How about you tell me right away when something’s going on with you, then I don’t have to overthink,” Keigo whispered into his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

His heart fluttered again and he sighed in defeat. It had always been useless to try hiding anything from this man. “It’s nothing, really. Just couldn’t sleep again and managed to drift off right before you came back. Don’t worry about it.”

“You know I’m gonna worry about it now.”

Touya rolled his eyes behind his closed lids. “Yes, that’s why I told you not to. Go to sleep.”

“But- ow!”

Touya gave a light kick to his shin. Trust grown men to not follow simple instructions. Unbelievable.

He seemed to finally get the message and pulled Touya closer, entangling their legs. Touya could hear a rustling noise from where his wings settled on the mattress. Then there was another kiss, this time on the back of his neck. “You know I love you, but that was unnecessary.”

Touya made a huffing sound that approximated a giggle. “Sure it was,” and then, a few heartbeats later, “Love you too.”

Keigo’s arms squeezed his middle and that was the last sign of life he got before the quiet snoring started. The alarm clock wasn’t in his line of sight this time, but it wasn’t really necessary anyway. The night was bearable now, no matter if he fell asleep or not.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Storm's Heat Part 2 | IDW Drift/Deadlock x f!robot reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 4900+ ( 2400+ each scenario )

Warnings: Smut ( spike in valve, breeding kink and knotting ), some violence and attempted/mentions of non-con. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Finally, I've managed to get something done with writing. Sorry for the delay in posting anything. Was very busy over Christmas and than I caught a terrible bug that lasted weeks, and it's still lingering.

Even with the poll I still couldn't decide, so I did something with two scenarios. Am I crazy? Yeah, sure, why not? Normally the polls help but I just couldn't stop thinking about both outcomes. This is a two part story, one of each with a different scenario of events. Hope you all enjoy. 🥰

☕ Coffee

Becoming part of The Lost Light crew wasn't something you imagined yourself to be in, but you were really grateful and honoured to be offered such a position. Your job is to monitor and analyse data, simple enough for you, and you are eager to meet the crew.

Ratchet is the only one you've met before a number of times, and it's thanks to him that you got yourself on this crew. He was your first visit as you made your way towards the med bay, the only place you imagined the old medic to be lingering.

However, you managed to get yourself lost along the way down the endless halls, and as your helm was spinning you weren't paying attention and ran into someone, knocking your data pads onto the ground.

"Slag! I'm so sorry!" You hurry to gather the number of pads without looking up in your frazzled state.

"It's quite alright, it was an accident." They say before helping you gather what you dropped. The voice sounded strangely familiar, making you look at them finally.

They meet your gaze, confusion filling both his and your optics, before yours brisky widens. "Deadlock?"

He stares back at you, mute and bewildered that you're here, and calls him by his old name. He looks completely different, but you knew it was him, and his autobot badge even catches in your view.

Finally, he's able to find his voice in his startled state. "That's not my name anymore, darling. It's Drift now."

The way he called you darling makes you smile a little. It's been a while since you've last heard from him. In your last encounter you remember him as Deadlock, a decepticon you found yourself trapped within in your outpost, and decided to let yourself go and grasp into the unforgettable desire he provided.

Standing back up he offers back your data pads and you smile as you take them back. "Dead-Sorry, I mean Drift. What happened to you? You joined the autobots?"

Drift offers a tender smile. "A lot did happen, it's a very long story."

"Maybe we could catch up later?" You ask without hesitation. All you wanted was to talk with him, find out the story, if he wanted to speak about it that is.

For a moment he continues to stare before smiling more fondly. "That would be nice, of course we can. Where are you headed?"

"Medic bay, I wanted to speak with Ratchet, he's an old friend."

"Old friend? I'll need to hear that story." He smirks softly causing you to return the same. "Come, I'll walk you there."

It wasn't until much later that both you and Drift managed to find the time to meet and catch up. You were curious about his story, and just how he became an autobot. You end up meeting in his quarters just so you both had some privacy, his idea, and you sensed he had some things to say to you.

And a lot he said.

"Told you it was long. Banished Decepticon. Wreaker. Autobot. Interrogator. Public Relations Officer. And now, third in command aboard the Lost Light." Drift finishes with a light shrug as if it was all nothing.

"That's impressive. You've done and been through so much. You should be proud of yourself."

"I know, but not everything is perfect. I've done a lot of terrible things still, taken innocent lives, rained chaos as a decepticon. That's something I can never forget and I have to live with. That's what I've accepted."

"But how will you find peace then?" You ask for furrowing your optics slightly.

"Maybe I was never meant to find peace?"

"You've been given all these chances to become better, and you have. Punishing yourself won't change the past, but you can still find peace."

Drift listens and offers a soft smile. "Well, I found you again, so that might mean something?"

You can't help but blush a little. "Yeah, I believe so." He offers you more energon and you accept. It's quiet before he speaks again.

"You look well." Drift says to break the silence that lingered, and he looks as if he's nervous around you. You honestly thought it's cute.

"Thank you. You've changed a lot, but it's a good look on you."

He sits beside you on the sofa and fiddles with his servos, rolling his digits while staring at the floor, pondering over his thoughts. "I'm glad we bumped into one another. There is something I would like to say. What happened at the outpost, I'm sorry."

You furrow your optics a little. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

"I took advantage of you, it was wrong of me to do that. I've done a lot of terrible things in my life, many mistakes were made, a lot of innocent lives were taken by my servos, and that's something I'll live with forever. What I did to you, again, I'm sorry."

You continue to stare at him, still confused, and let your own thoughts ponder through your mind. "Do you seriously believe what we did was against my will?"

"Yes?" Now he sounds confused. "At least I pressured you, pushed you, didn't I?"

"I don't remember it like that." You shrug before thinking back to that moment. "I remember an autobot and a decepticon were trapped together in an outpost in the middle of a bad storm that lasted at least a month. In the moment, fractions didn't matter, and I wanted it to happen because I was so uptight about being cooped up. You showed me a pretty good time, and I never once held any regrets. Not once did I ever consider what happened was forced on me."

Drift listens as you speak, letting everything sink in through tender optics before letting out a long and quiet vent, as if relieved.

"Are you certain I didn't hurt you?"

"Not once did you hurt me. I promise." You touch his servo under your own, offering an assuring rub. "I'm...I'm glad we got to meet again, I was hoping we would cross paths."

"How so?" Drift is curious by what you mean.

You decide to not without holding back. Even if he rejects you, at least you could finally move on with him out of your thoughts, maybe. Leaning closer you meet his lips with your own and share a tender kiss.

You feel him tense, but it quickly departs, and then you feel him leaning into it, welcoming the delicate smooch. Tilting your helm you deepen it a little and coil your glossa with his own, which he softly eagerly accepts while moving his servos across your waist.

This entices you to straddle his lap and press yourself against his chassis, letting every moment of this last for as long as possible, because you didn't know if this will ever happen again or what Drift was even thinking at that moment. All that matters is he is kissing you back, and you are craving more from him.

Finally, the kiss is broken, but you remain close as you gaze into his optics, taking in the softness that swims in them. All you can do is offer a sheepish smile before speaking.

"Call me crazy, but I was hoping to find you again. You kind of left your mark, I couldn't stop thinking about you." The confession gets you all shy. "I don't know, just that...guess I like you. You might've changed your life, your name, but you're still you, and I feel drawn to you."

Drift listens, letting her words sink in before giving a tender smile, reaching up to caress her cheek plating. "It's not crazy. I'll admit, I thought about you from time to time, wondering where you were and what you were doing with yourself. I honestly didn't expect to run into you again, but I'm grateful I have."

You return with a smile, a weight lifted off your shoulders hearing him speak words you were hoping to hear. "So, what now?"

"Would you like to keep going?"

You nod, because you didn't trust your own voice to stutter through the elation growing through your system. He brings you closer and kisses you again, your servos moving behind his helm once again while deepening the kiss together.

His servos skillfully move over your hips and waist, holding you against him while his glossa coils playfully with your own, letting out soft moans together while the kiss plays on.

You decide to keep going for more and descend your servo down between you both, running your soft digits against his heated panel, earning a hitched vent from him against the kiss.

He doesn't hesitate though and retracts his panel, his semi hard spike emerging out, and there he still has his knot, making you giggle lightly.

"Well, guess not everything has changed."

Drift smirks through a light moan feeling your servo wrap around his throbbing spike. "Can I assume you missed not just me, but my spike as well?"

"Maybe." You tease, sharing another gentle kiss with him as you stroke him, right across the thick base of his knot and caressing around it with a gentle squeeze causing him to let out a stuttered vent.

"Well, I can happily say that I'm ready and eager for your lovely valve. Think you can handle that again?" Drift asks through his heated vents, waist wiggling a little against your stroking of him while you continue to pump him gently.

"I can handle it, all of you, always." You sound so confident, and you were, very much, and Drift's smile stretches more as you answer this.

Keeping your servo wrapped around him you lift your hips up to hover over his throbbing spike before sinking down, feeling him pulse through your channel, quickly meeting with his knot that settles against your valve lips. You missed him, so dearly much.

"Drift." You call him by his name, forgetting his decepticon name, gracefully wiggling your hips and grinding down on him, rubbing your node against him that creates an abnormal, yet sensual rolling moan from him. "Oh Drift...."

Your body rocks in motion against him while wrapping your servos around his neck, bringing yourself closer, and you can't help but smile through your heated moans as you hear his alluring purrs, silky sounds that swim around your audios. His servos hold securely against your waist while helping to guide you more down on him, though you were doing most of the work yourself.

His knot endlessly grinds against your valve, desperately seeking the velvet warmth that already surrounds his spike riding through you. You want it, all of him, so much, and you eagerly respond by pushing yourself down more firmly to try and get that knot in you.

Drift lets out a rowdy moan, feeling you grip all along him while attempting to bury yourself onto his knot that throbs rapidly, his spike increasing in size little by little, before he helps by pushing you more harshly down on him, and this is the help you needed before you feel his knot push past into your valve, locking you both together with his knot expanding, creating a elegant throbbing bump against your valve.

A sharp cry echoes from you feeling sudden stretch expand through your channel, every ridged pulse sending waves of electric shocks against your inner walls that boil through your frame, embracing him tightly with your face buried against his inner neck, letting out ravenous moans that join his growing purrs.

Within moments, you're rolling your waist skillfully and firmly against him, feeling his knot tugging at your valve at each grind you deliver against him. He meets with your movements in sync, harsh grunts hitting your lips before kissing him deeply and joining your glossa's together. It's you that overloads first, clamping down on him and letting out a buzzing mewl against his lips as the shocks rush through you. Then you feel him jerking against your frame before stilling, warm thick ropes of trans fluids soaking your depths while his knot expands more and prevents anything from leaving.

Resting against his chassis you let out heated vents as your fans kick in to cool yourself off. Drift doing the same while his servos wrap around your body, holding you close against him, his knot buried deep within your valve as you clench around him eagerly still. You missed feeling so stuffed by his spike and knot.

"So, would you like to go on a date?" He manages to ask and you answer through a beaming giggle.

"Yes, please. That would be nice."

Drift caresses your cheek plating and leans forward to share a kiss with you. It's so tender, gentle through your senses. "I look forward to it, darling."

It's a date.

AU where Decepticons win the war...

Its a living nightmare for all autobots. This wasn't meant to happen, least not how you imagined it would turn out, and now you find yourself a prisoner of war, captured with your group as you attempt an escape off the planet, only to fail.

Optimus Prime was offline. The decepticons have won the war. Cybertron was under Megatron's control. Autobots were spoils of war. All the worst and horrible things were happening so quickly.

Your group is led off a shuttle and shoved into a building, no one knowing what's to happen. The autobots were at the mercy of the cons.

You're trembling, lips quivering as your bound servos clench tightly to try and ease your nerves, but this doesn't help in the slightest. You're terrified about what your fate is to be, or just what might happen to you. After all, you're a femme, not a lot like you around, and that makes you stand out more.

Rough servos suddenly grab hold of you, tugging you out of your group, and you find yourself in the grasps of a decepticon who is staring at you with the most putrid smile.

"Well ain't you fine and dainty. You're coming with me, sweetspark. Me and the boys are going to have a lot of fun with you." Your optics widen as you're suddenly dragged away, the shouts and curses of the other autobots are heard but ignored. They couldn't help you.

"No, no! Please!" You plead as you try to dig your pedes into the ground to stop but fail as you're pretty much dragged across through the erupted crowds and into another rowdy building, music and cheers screaming out from it. They were celebrating, and you are their next taste of victory.

Upon entering, the catcalls and whistles cut through your audios that make you tremble more, trying to hold back your tears as the grip on your arm tugs you through into the center.

"Got us some entertainment! Let's show the auto-slut how we like to treat a femme!" The con announces before shoving you into a group, and chaos erupts.

Your screams and pleads were silent through the decepticons' own shouts and calls, each trying to grab and tug at you, before being yanked away again by another. Your helm is spinning, you're tired, and your vocals hurt, you just wanted this nightmare to end.

Things only got worse when the decepticons now start fighting over you and punches are thrown, one managing to knock the side of your helm and throwing you to the ground. Your audios start ringing from the impact as you try pushing yourself up off the floor. Escape. You needed an escape.

Another pair of servos grab you and you start struggling again, only to stop when you hear a familiar voice against your audio.

"I've got you, darling."

"Deadlock?"

"The one and only." You can feel his smirk as he lifts you into his arms and loops your cuffed servos over his helm.

You don't answer but you do act instantly by holding onto him, your saviour, as he attempts to take you away from the others that still try to grab you, though Deadlock wasn't going to let that happen. He'll tear them all apart if he must.

Grabbing his blaster he shoots one nearest to him in the shoulder, not killing them, but enough to send a message for the others.

"Get back!" Deadlock snarls at them all. "She's mine!"

Energon splattered across your face as the shots rang out but you didn't even flinch, you have much more to worry about in that moment.

Everyone knew who Deadlock was and just knew how dangerous he could be. Though the message was sent, it didn't mean they were stopping.

"You have no claim over her! She's nothing but war spoils!" The one who had dragged her here argues.

"What the fragging pit is going on?!"

A thundering voice cuts through the air and sends shivers through you, making you hold onto Deadlock more letting out a whimper as he offers quiet shushes against your audio. You peek your optics up, only to face an enormous con approaching Deadlock.

"Having fun with the spoils boss!" Another cackles which earns them some eager chants.

"Turmoil, do you really want this kind of greasy behaviour in your city? Your troops allowed rape anyone they please?" Deadlock knew his commander. As blunt and taciturn as he was, he wasn't one to approve of that kind of pointless behaviour.

"Whose brilliant idea was it to bring the femme here, to a bunch of riled up horny soldiers?!" Turmoil raised his cannon, swinging it around causing the others to duck for cover, but he wasn't interested in shooting anyone. " That's why we got brothels, to handle your needs! Stupid. The lot of you!"

That was it then. No further attempts were made to get you.

Turmoil fixes his optics on Deadlock. "Get her out of here. I don't care what you do with her." That answer is good for Deadlock, and carries you away from the scene.

It's over. You're safe.

"Thank you, thank you..." You feel yourself cry softly into his shoulder, a sickening weight is lifted off and you're now safe.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Deadlock brings you back to his apartment, which is rather nice, and makes you wonder just how important he was. You sit on his berth, cuffs gone, and he offers you energon which you accept before he then starts to tend to a few minor injuries on you.

It's been so long since you last saw him when you were stationed at that outpost. After the storm had passed, you both parted ways, and that was it. Deep down you missed him, no matter how much you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn't help but feel the need to see him again. Did you fall for a con? Yeah, you think you did. Now here you are, ruined again.

Seeing you again wasn't something Deadlock had expected to happen, but he was glad he came across you in your situation just in time before it could escalate. He didn't like his property touched, and made that clear when he started shooting them.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asks once he's taken care of the ones he visibly saw.

"I'm alright." You whisper back, still trying to process everything. Then you feel a touch against your cheek plating and meet his optics. How could someone look so dangerous and harmless at the same time?

Deadlock is sitting beside you on the berth as he takes in your cute face he had missed, his digit gently tracing across your cheek plating while tilting his helm, as if trying to read every detail about you while you lean into his touches, before you find your voice again. "What happens now?"

"You'll remain with me." Deadlock doesn't hesitate. There's no way he can let go of you again. "Turmoil is my commander and I'm his SIC, he was given the city by Megatron. Things are still adjusting and new laws are being laid, but I'll make sure he knows you're not to be touched by anyone else."

At least Deadlock could do this to make sure you're not bothered. "What you said before, 'she's mine', what did you mean by that?"

"It means exactly that." He leans closer, his ravenous optics lingering through your own closely. "You're mine, everyone will know this, I'll take good care of you."

It should've made you feel degraded to be owned, but it doesn't. You see it as protection, a safe haven, but best of all you'll be with Deadlock. The autobots lost, there's no point in resisting, not that you wanted to towards Deadlock. In fact, you crave for this touches already. Calmly, you lean into his servo still lingering against your cheek plating and offer a delicate smile. He returns the same with an upturn smirk before closing the distance between you both and kisses you. Kissing him back you tilt your helm, deepening the kiss you both share with your glossa's coiling together. Oh, you've missed his lips, those pointed dentas, everything about him.

He's the first to break the kiss but he keeps close, letting out a satisfied purr while he nuzzles into your face, making you smile more, the most you've smiled since your capture. He speaks again. "Why don't you use the washranks? Get yourself soaked in fresh oil, and I'll help with you polish after."

"Thank you." Getting up you run your servo across his shoulder while keeping your optics on his, a light tease that makes him smirk softly again in return. In the doorway you stop and turn to face him again, noticing he was putting away the medical supplies he had used on you. "Would you like to join me?"

Deadlock meets your gaze again before giving a rather pleased smile between his sharp dentas as his amber optics glowed wildly. "I would like that, darling."

In the washranks you both settle within the fresh oil bath together as you straddle yourself within his lap. Your servos glide across his armour, digits trace across his decepticon badge, and move them back up to caress his cheek plating fondly, admiring every inch of him.

Deadlock watches you, curious and pleased to see you exploring. He knew you were a smart femme and you weren't going to cause trouble. He missed your cute face, that innocent smile, he could never forget about you after your time together at that outpost. Letting out another purr he leans his cheek plating into your servo, kissing the inside of your wrist before leaning across to claim your lips again. He tugs you closer against him by your waist while the bubbling heat grows between you both, a crave you'll both be unable to shake of. You already knew he had become your obsession, an addiction you'll never want out of your life, your knight in shining armour to love and protect you.

"Fragging pit, you're so beautiful darling, cute little femme." Deadlock murmurs through his growing hunger against your lips. "I bet you've missed me, not just me, but my knot as well. I ruined you for anyone else to satisfy you, didn't I?"

"You did." You answer honestly. It's true, and sure, you've shared the berth with a few other partners after Deadlock, but none of them ever got close just how good he made you feel.

"Good." Is his amused answer before you let out a startled gasp when you feel his servo glide across between your legs and against your panel, only for you to retract it immediately for him.

His satisfaction is visible before he pushes a digit inside, and instantly you're rocking yourself against him, moaning loudly while clenching your already soaking valve around his curling digit.

"So wet and eager." Deadlock couldn't hold back anymore. "Turn around, I want that aft nice and high for me."

Obeying his command you turn yourself and lean over the edge of the in floor basin, lifting your hips with your exposed valve in view and dripping with oil while you wiggle, teasing him as you send a lustful glance back over your shoulder.

Deadlock lets out a deep sound from his chassis, a profound growl that runs through his entire frame at the sight of you. Retracting his panel, his already throbbing spike slides out, along with his thickened knot as the whole length pulses. He lays himself across your back and takes hold of the front of your throat, tugging you back and kissing you firmly that you eagerly return, rocking your hips back against his heated spike that glides against your valve lips, ridges stimulating against your node.

He humps you, getting off the intense stimulation, before directing himself against your valve and thrusts forward firmly. A choked gasp erupts from you, feeling his pulsing thickness stretch you wildly, forgetting just how big he was. His swollen knot presses against your valve and he keeps still, savouring your clenching valve as he moans loudly against your audio.

"Oh darling, I've missed your tight valve." He growls in desire as he rolls his waist, earning a cute mewl from you. "I'm going to frag you always, claim you day and night, always ready for you. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" You let out an intense loud whimper. "Please, make me yours!"

Deadlock is overwhelmingly pleased, giggling through a grin between sharp dentas before he starts moving, grinding against your aft with his servos wrapped around your middle to hold you tightly and sets a shallow and firm pace, thrusting his spike into your depths. There's no holding back from either of you as he breeds you to his desire, rutting wilding, earning constant lascivious mewls from your vocals, his helm resting against your shoulder as his heated grunts press into your audio.

You feel his thickening spike plunging deeply through your channel over again, heated possessive grunts hitting your audio while you fall apart under him, letting him breed you as he wanted. His knot hits the outside of your valve repeatedly, grinding against your node perfectly, sending shock waves through your entire frame.

The wet sounds you hear causes you to quiver more, enjoying just how silky your valve is for him, willingly welcoming every possessive thrust he delivers. Your metal armour clangs against him over again as does the oil swish around against his excessive movements. His grip around your middle tightens as he starts to grind himself more firmly, and you know what is about to happen.

All you can do is spread your legs more for him and move back to meet his strong movements, trying to help him knot you, as this is what you both seek and become tied together.

"I'll fill you deeply with so much of my warm fluids, your chambers are flooding, and maybe we'll have a sparkling. Is that something you would like, darling, huh?" His words roll out through heated purrs.

The very thought of having his sparkling sounded perfect. "Yes, yes, please, I want that!" You'll give him as many as he wants.

"Wonderful."

That's your only warning you get as he grinds himself firmly against you harshly, followed by sharp thrusts that rock you forward and makes you squeal out while he tries to push his thick knot in. It takes a little more effort, but eventually he manages to push through your valve, tying you both together. You cry out in bliss feeling his swollen knot imbed you, spike pulsing widely and tip pressing into your chambers while he keeps thrusting, your mewls loud and eager.

Lost in the moment you lose yourself and overload hard, clenching tightly on him as you cry out in bliss. He snarls through his violent thrusts, and he uses his dentas to bite into your shoulder to lock you in place before shooting thick ropes of his warm trans fluids into your chambers and soaking through your channel. His bite only adds to the arousal, as does the growing bump over your valve where his spike and knot lock you both in place together. His movements slow, turning into slow jerks that cause you to whimper as your cooling fans kick in and rest against the edge of the basin, knowing fully well you'll both be there for a while.

You find yourself drifting in and out of stasis, with the lack of recharge you've had your systems struggled to keep you alert. At some point you end up in his berth again, cleaned and polished, resting within his safe arms as his servos ghostly graze against your back in a soothing manner. Easily, you've fallen for him, love perhaps, and you want to be with him always.

Deadlock feels pretty damn lucky to have found you again, his special cute little autobot, and he had no plans ever letting you go. One day he'll convince you to switch the symbol on your chassis, joining you to the winning team and giving you the life you deserved.

"No one else can ever have you, you're mine. Only I can provide you with a good life, and that's right at my side. Do you understand?" His words whisper into your audio, making you respond through a low hum.

"I understand."

"That's a good femme."

[strawberryj0y]

the first time i saw this image was before i even read hiori's light novel and i remembering wondering what could possibly be the context of this image bc wtf is going on in the background and foreground LMAO like why are they in a tunnel??

and then upon finally finding out, it didn't make it any better jdfhgjhgsfjdgf [continued below]

bc what do u mean this is Krasu discovering Hiori was stalking him home after practice one day and purposefully lead him into a dark tunnel to catch Hiori off-guard and when asked for an explanation, all hiori can say is “No, uhm… I just wanted to know more about Karasu-kun’s ways.” and then they start flirting...............

sidenote, this is one of my faveeee passages from the light novel (see full passage attached at the end of this post), hiori is just so sweetly awkward and he just can't help himself when it comes to Karasu so he stumbles his way through this interaction and earnestly asks Karasu questions

to which Karasu is understandably confused as fuck at first sjhgfjhsgf but also hopelessly endeared bc he can tell Hiori's coming from a place of complete sincerity and genuine intrigue in Karasu as a person, he's just got zero idea how to go about it in a normal way LMAO

which is also why Karasu gives him honest responses, admitting to his own shortcomings and all Hiori can say is that he thinks Karasu's perfect jdfhsjfjhsgfjdgfj

and then Hiori's very happy to learn that karasu also plays videogames and Karasu's hitting him with philosophy for whatever reason* but hiori's eating it up and getting happy at finding yet another common ground with Karasu, despite how overall different they are

*(i have some ideas about why that might be, i'll make another post about this in the near future!)

The final line of this passage is just ughhhhhh (/pos) because Hiori just likes him so damn much, and it manifests in this bottomless curiosity. Hence why this scene starts with Hiori, being new to these feelings (genuine interest in another person) and being ill-equipped to deal with them in socially acceptable ways LMAO, attempting to follow Karasu all the way home to satiate this burning desire to know him. Know him how he seems to know Hiori.

I just adore how Hiori doesn't even try to hide it either; mainly bc I don't think there's an excuse/lie good enough to explain away his actions here lmao. He's just a painfully open book. Karasu with his keen observation skills can pierce right through most people's facades and right into their core, reading them with wonderful precision which is what makes his soccer playstyle so difficult to play against (as we saw through Isagi's experience in their first match together during third selection). But at this point, he doesn't even have to employ this skill of his because he just has to poke Hiori a little and he'll spill his guts out without hesitation. And here's the thing - he's happy to do so! No shame. No attempts to hide the embarassing parts. He just melts LMAO

And Karasu is also never really put-off by it. In fact, he willingly indulges it, and proceeds to share his own weaknesses and hobbies and the philosophies behind them. He willingly gives Hiori a glimpse into himself, his life.

Also, him going from scared to smirking at the chance to tease Hiori for observing him so intensely lately - only to then try to pass it off as being annoying and creepy yet still going on to indulge Hiori's personal questions is making me dizzy LMAO that's very Karasu of him tbh, all this push-and-pull. He has to compensate every pull (acts of bridging the gap between them) with a push ('idiot', 'creepy', 'annoying', 'what kind of question is that?' and answering it sincrely anyway, responding to hiori's 'you're perfect' with rationalisations of why he's not).

[teamhappyme]

it's time to go

josh lyman x female!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: my condensed rant at how the women are treated in the west wing, what is a timeline/plot

a/n: logging on to post a fic and then fall off into the abyss where there is no motivation or inspiration flowing! this has been sitting in my drafts for two years, folks. finally got the inspo to finish this generalized west wing fic-turned josh lyman reader core done! i hopee you all can indulge in this as much as i did :) (yes another taylor swift inspired title you can take them from my cold dead hands-)

~~~

There is a constant buzz that lives in the west wing. 

If it’s not the white house staff and all the varying levels of personnel making noise, it’s the conference room meetings that hold everyone in D.C. trying to influence the white house and the American people. 

Normally, the buzz is comforting to you. In the middle of the communications department, you all thrive on it. But the last twenty four hours had reached a level of mayhem that not even you guys could spin into a positive narrative.

You accompanied Toby to CJ’s second brief of the night, trying to inform the press on the situation in Haiti while attempting to dodge any questions about the MS shock and reelection campaign.

CJ was losing control of the group. She was shuffling papers, removing sticky notes, adjusting her glasses, all in an attempt to keep herself somewhat grounded from the chaos at hand. You sensed Toby tense up as a member of the press pushed and pushed, asking his third follow up question. 

And that’s when it all came crashing down.

CJ flew off the podium and you and Toby followed after her.

“Did she just say the President is relieved to send troops into Haiti?” Sam asked as he joined you in the hallway, waiting outside of CJ’s office. “Relieved to put American lives and Haitian civilians at risk?”

“I was standing right there!” Toby shouted back and you flinched. This certainly was not the good buzz you wanted.

Before they could continue yelling at each other, the door to the briefing room slammed against the wall, CJ rubbing her hands over her face and turned to find the three of you standing there.

“CJ,” Toby started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Just don’t say anything! Just… don’t say anything.” You all gave her a moment to regroup before she began walking back to her office. 

Your two bosses stood in the middle of the hallway, not knowing what on earth to do next, other than duck and cover from Leo once he heard what happened. 

“They’re gonna need extra hands for damage control.” Sam turned to you, and you nodded.

“I’m on it. I started drafting notes for an apology statement,”

“Apology?” Toby asked, voice still an octave louder than you liked, directed to you.

“I told her to.” Sam added, and you watched the look the two of them shared. They sure had some things to discuss. “We’ll talk about them later. Just, make sure they are clear about what CJ meant. Redirect as much as you can without stepping on any toes.”

“Got it.”

You pushed your stack of papers into Sam’s hands and made your way to the press offices. Phones were ringing off the hook, aides scrambling from desk to desk, as Josh stepped in beside you.

Before either of you could reach CJ’s office, she slammed the door, rattling a few frames on the wall.

“Well, we’re just getting started aren’t we.” 

“Happy Thursday.” you added as he walked back toward his office. You looked out over the war room and locked eyes with Carol. She let out a breath before meeting you at her desk.

“Heard there’s a bit of a situation going on. Where do you need me?”

- 

You’re not sure if it’s still Thursday by the time you leave the press office. It’s still dark out; you haven’t eaten anything besides Carol’s desk mints and you need a nap. Desperately. 

You walked through the bullpen to Josh’s office, your final memo delivered before you could put the events of the last day and a half to rest - at least for the next six hours. You checked in with Sam one final time, making sure your absence today didn’t put him any further behind. (Of course it did, but he’d never tell.)

Donna wasn’t at her desk, and the rest of the bullpen was empty save for Josh pacing around his office while reading over a document. You waited until he stopped moving, scribbled something on the paper, and stuck the pen back in his mouth to knock on the opened door.

His eyes shot up, meeting yours for a quick second before he began pacing once again. 

You’ll take that as a ‘come in.’

“7:00 a.m. briefing notes, CJ wanted you all to take a look at them before morning.” You handed him the paper, skimming it before he went back to his thick document. “Carol says all they are waiting on is an update on Haiti from the situation room. They assume they won’t get that information until-”

“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow.” He interrupted, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m sorry?” you questioned.

“Nancy is doing the morning brief tomorrow. She has the information and will get the Haiti update by 5:00.”

Taking a second to recover your thoughts and do a double take at your own copy of the memo, you couldn’t help but question the man in front of you. 

“Why are you benching CJ?”

“No one’s benching CJ. Leo made the decision to have Nancy give the brief on Haiti. I mean, she seems pretty qualified to give the brief being the President’s National Security Advisor, but I could be wrong. She just bribed me with some bagels to give her the opportunity.”

“Don’t you think CJ deserves to do her job?”

“She said the President was relieved to send troops into Haiti.”

“She made a mistake,” You argued, and you could feel the anger starting to spew out of you.

“Yeah, and unfortunately she made it in front of the press and during broadcasted briefing.”

“CJ used one wrong word and she’s getting hanged for it.” You dropped the stack of memos onto Josh’s desk, his full attention now on you.

“CJ is the press secretary, she is the line of communication from the President to the public.”

“And you’re the Deputy Chief of Staff, and Toby is the Communications Director, and Sam is the Deputy Communications Director, and-”

“What’s your point?” He interrupted, running a hand through his annoying, unkempt hair.

You scoffed. “What’s my point? As the Deputy Chief of Staff, you went on Capitol Beat and slammed Mary Marsh while simultaneously ridiculing every person of faith in the United States. You also went in front of the same White House Press Corps and stated that the President had a secret plan to fight inflation when he obviously did not. As the Communications Director, Toby was accused of insider trading. Finally, as the Deputy Communications Director, Sam slept with a prostitute, and instead of staying away from her like all of the senior staff advised, including Leo, he was photographed with her, which could have caused a major PR crisis for us to fix.”

“I thought you were in favor of Laurie and Sam’s relationship, prostitutes shouldn’t be discriminated against.” He added with a smirk.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“You listing all of the mistakes we’ve made as we work in the most powerful building in the world? Yes, I do.”

You crossed your arms in defiance, fighting back frustrated tears. He wouldn’t get it.

“CJ has stood at that podium over the last twenty six hours taking shit from the press on the President’s diagnosis. She chooses the wrong language once, and Toby is yelling at her while Leo shoves her in the corner.”

He let out a sigh, trying to choose his next words carefully. 

“It’s her job to get the language right-”

“For fucks sake Josh, this isn’t about her damn job! It’s about every single woman in this building working their ass off, taking the hits for their bosses, for the men in this administration without as much as a thank you. How many times has Donna been on the receiving end of phone calls from angry senators, stayed late to make sure she proofread your memos, sacrificed her free nights to lobby and push your policy on people? And how many times have you thanked her for it? I sit in the communications bullpen and hear Toby shout for Ginger, Bonnie, and me dozens of times a day. I see, first hand, the scrutiny that CJ is under every time she has to defend policy to the press. And don’t think I don’t understand that we all signed up for these roles. We all knew what we were getting into, we all knew the hierarchy of the west wing. We knew we weren’t going to be praised for our contributions, no matter how big or small. But none of us expected to be benched for doing our job, for telling the truth of a man that is too scared to say it himself.”

Josh’s eyes widened at your casual tone and bold statement. You knew you were crossing the line. 

“You’re talking about the President, keep your voice down.”

“Why? Everyone is thinking the same thing. He’s hiding behind Haiti, he’s hiding behind CJ, and he’s hiding behind this damn white house!”

Josh moved around you, going to shut the door in hopes that no one heard you. But a foot propped the door open, and in walked a still irritable Toby.

“I sure as hell hope that wasn’t the President you were having a public outburst about in his goddamn west wing,” Toby exclaimed, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“Toby,” Josh tried to interject, but you were ready to finally give everyone a piece of your mind.

“It sure as hell was. And I’ll repeat it for anyone that wants to hear it, in fact, why don’t we all just march down to the Oval office and tell the man causing all these problems himself how we really feel. Or am I the only one with the balls to say it?”

Josh had to physically stop you from leaving his office, holding onto your shoulder as you could practically see the smoke leaving Toby’s ears.

“You sure as hell don’t have enough seniority to command a meeting in the Oval!” Toby yelled out, landing another low blow to your ego. Josh’s hand tightened on your shoulder as you fought back the tears desperately trying to form in your eyes. But you wouldn’t give Toby the satisfaction. “So suck it up, and wait for us to tell you what the hell to write to get us out of this situation.”

You shook Josh’s hand off your shoulder as you took another step closer to Toby.

“I’m not writing a single word until I get to talk to the President.”

“Get the hell out of my bullpen, you’re done tonight.” Toby seethed, clearing the way for you to leave.

You didn’t think twice. You walked past the two of them, not a care in the world at the fact you just told off two of the most powerful people in the White House, potentially risking your job in the process.

The buzz followed you through the halls to the communications bullpen, walking past Ginger and Bonnie who were wrapping up phone calls at their desks. Sam yelled out to you from his office, but you kept your head down and kept walking. 

It wasn’t until you walked past the Roosevelt room, locking eyes with Donna as she sat with papers spread out in front of her, red markings all across the pages, that it hit you. She gave you a small smile, her eyes quickly turning to concern as you felt the tears threaten to fall.

You quickly walked to the exit, brushing past the security guards and stepping into the spitting night rain. The air was cold, and it felt like a shock to your system. 

What the hell have you done.

You barely made it fifty feet before you heard someone calling your name, heavy footsteps running toward you.

You turned to find Josh, coat in hand, approaching you outside the White House.

“Wait a second,” Josh said as he finally stood in front of you, draping your coat around your shoulders. You didn’t even realize you were shivering.

“I need to go,” you said, embarrassment and anger still seeping through you.

“We need to talk about what just happened. It’s been a long, hectic night-”

“Josh, you’re not going to talk me out of my own words.” You interrupted him. “I meant everything I said in there, and I’ve been feeling that way for a while. No amount of talking is going to change what I think, or what Toby thinks. It’s done.”

“We can fix it, please-”

“Nothing is going to change!” You exclaimed as your arms raised in frustration. “The only way this goes away is if I go back in there with my tail tucked between my legs and suck up to Toby. I’m not going to kiss the ring and pretend I’m okay with what’s going on in there. And if that’s the job now, I don’t want it.”

“It’s always been the job, the President's policies and opinions are our policies and opinions.”

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re in the room where it happens. And quite frankly, I’m sick of taking the hit for men who can’t help themselves.” you said and continued walking further away from the White House.

“It must be lonely up there on your high horse, pointing your finger at everyone who has what you want!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” you whipped around to face him, finding him closer than he was before. You hated that he was looking down at you, both in height and pity. “And of all the people in that fucking building, it should have been you to understand why I feel this way.”

The two of you stood incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the next move. It had been like this between the two of you for months; push and pull, give and take, waiting for someone to crack and push the boundary wide open. No one knew how to get you to open up like Josh, and no one made him as flustered as you. And still, it all ended like this.

He looked down at your hands, clenched into fists at your sides, and he slowly reached out to grab them. But you couldn't let it happen this time. You took a step back, and both of you tensed up again.

“It’s time for me to go.” Physically, mentally, all of it. It was time for you to leave the white house.

Josh nodded, fighting the urge to continue to try and get you to stay. Instead, he rested his hands on the lapel of your jacket, pulling it tighter around you for the final time. You refused to look up at him, knowing you would give in just like all those times before.

He gave you a small nod once he was ready to finally let you go.

“I’ll see you around.”

*****

It’s been three days since the MS scandal completely shook the nation.

You haven’t left your apartment since that day, avoiding phone calls from everyone in the west wing.

Sam had left voicemail after voicemail, begging you to tell him why you haven’t been to work. Toby refused to tell him what happened, but he knew it had something to do with that night. Not even endless compliments on your prose and speeches from Sam could get you to crawl back there. He gave up after his sixth message.

There was a pile of unopened mail sitting on your kitchen table, along with empty take out containers and a bottle of wine - there may even be a copy of your law school application in the mix, a pity read or two occurring in a drunken haze. 

Later that night, after dodging another phone call from Donna and attempting to get as much of your life together as you could, you gave in and sat down to watch CJ’s nine o’clock press brief. You were glad to see that she was off the bench again, and seemed to be back to her usual self. 

There was a knock at your door as she opened up for questions, and you hated to think you missed the sound of the press gaggle.

You swung your door open, expecting a large pizza to be shoved into your face, but instead an exhausted Josh Lyman was standing at your door.

“Hi,” he said and began cracking his knuckles. “I would’ve called, but you seem to forget how the phone works.”

“I know how the phone works.” you replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” you sighed. “I walked all the way here, please take pity on me.”

“Fine.” You opened up your door, mostly to shut him up, and ushered him into your home.

“Glad to see you cut yourself off from us completely.” He jeered and pointed to the press briefing on the TV. “You know I’m the one that suggested she make the joke about Hungary, so they should be laughing for me.”

“What did you come here for, Josh?” you asked, again, trying to redraw the boundary between you two.

“Ginger and Bonnie kept saying you were sick, and since no one else heard from you, thought I would check in to see if you were alive. You look pretty not sick to me.”

“Josh-“

“We need you back in the west wing. Toby and Sam are at each other's throats and we need a speech for our first campaign stop. If you don’t get back to the bullpen I’m afraid we’ll never see the written word again.”

“I don’t-”

“I’m not beyond begging or bribing to get you back in there tomorrow morning.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself as he shrugged off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. You tried not to notice how soft he looked in jeans and a sweater. “But you’re not getting my office, or my secretary, or my season tickets to the capitals. I will however put up Sam’s season tickets to-“

“I wrote my letter of resignation, Josh. I’m not coming back.”

You sat down next to him as you watched him freeze, eyes widening the slightest bit. Rendering Josh speechless never gets old, even under these circumstances.

“Toby’s not going to fire you, he was just pissed off the other night. C’mon, if we head down there now I’m sure he’s still there slaving away over this speech-“

“I didn’t write this because I was afraid of getting fired. This is my choice, Josh. I’m choosing to leave the White House.” 

You handed him the letter, and he took it with some hesitation. He spent a few minutes reading it, and then rereading it, shaking his head before throwing it back on the table.

“Why?” Was all he asked as he pulled his chair closer to you. You shook your head, not wanting to get into it. He leaned back in his chair, staring at your letter on the table.

“Josh, I’ve spent too much time helping people, specifically men, climb up the political totem pole. I’m tired of writing speeches and bills for someone else to say. I’ve been burned by too many men in my life to be naive enough to be comfortable in one place.”

He moved to pick up the letter, or so you thought, but instead he picked up your law school application.

“Since when have you been interested in law school?” He asked, flipping through the pages of the Georgetown Law School application. 

“Since forever,” you said, suddenly growing quiet under the scrutiny of his eyes on your application; your essay was practically a diary about your time working in the west wing. “I couldn’t afford to go after I graduated from UVA, and my parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a girl lawyer in the family. So, I settled and started working on the campaign trails. I think you know the rest from there.”

Josh didn’t say a word in response, you’re not entirely sure he even heard a word you just said. Instead his eyes were darting across the page, flipping page after page to finish reading your essay. Josh had never read your personal work; sure you’ve written dozens of memos and speeches that he had proofed and listened to, but nothing with your voice. Nothing that showcased your intelligence, your compassion, and dedication to learning to improve not only yourself, but the world around you.

It was making you anxious the more he read and the less he spoke. Was it bad? Did he think you were absolutely insane for thinking you could go to law school? You need to get it out of his hands before it completely changes the way he sees you.

“I know it’s a long shot that they would accept me, I haven’t even decided if I’m actually going to apply or not, so-” you tried to take it out of his hands, but he grabbed your wrist before you could reach it.

“They would be absolute fools not to accept you.” he said, slowly lowering your arm back to your lap, not letting go of you yet. “The west wing is going to fall apart without you.”

“You guys will be just fine without me.” you started and rolled your eyes. “Toby has an ego, and a vocabulary, big enough for ten speechwriters. And, I haven’t gotten in yet.” 

“You will. And Toby’s ego, no matter how large, will never fill the hole you’re leaving.”

He maneuvered his hand away from his wrist down to your hand, and watched as he laced his fingers with yours. You let out a breath as he rested them on his knee, slowly bringing you closer together.

“So, will you accept my letter of resignation now that you know the full story?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Josh-”

“I have a stipulation to the letter.” he interrupted, the smirk returning to his face. “You stay on until we win re-election, and take on a very part-time consulting position once school starts. You deserve to see this through, and we can’t part with you any sooner.”

How the hell does anyone say no to Josh Lyman? Between his annoyingly handsome signature smirk, his warm brown eyes, and his messy hair, he’s a total heartthrob. But you seemed to have some effect on him too, seeing as he hasn’t let go of you just yet.

“That sounds like a plan, only if you and Toby agree to write me the best recommendations Georgetown has ever seen.”

“I can deliver on Toby, but I’m not so sure I can give you what you’re looking for. I may have a conflict of interest,” he said and squeezed your hand, causing you to laugh. “But I have the next best thing, the President of the United States on speed dial.”

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” His smile spread over his entire face now. “And thank you, for believing in me. And not firing me last night.”

“Well, you were right. A little outspoken, but nothing worse than what Toby has said to the President himself. There’s going to be some change in the west wing now, thanks to you.”

“Who knew all it took to get something done in this city is to have a temper tantrum?”

“Almost every politician in Congress,” Josh added before being interrupted by his pager. His face fell the slightest bit as he let out a sigh. “It’s Leo.”

“Back to work?”

“A crisis awaits,” he said, letting go of your hand as he shrugged his coat back on. Your fingers flexed against your side, already missing the warmth of Josh’s hand in yours. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” 

“Bright and early,”  You replied as you walked him to the door. “With a desk full of notes from Sam, I’m sure.”

“Oh if only we could all be so lucky.” He joked, as the two of you lingered in the doorway to your apartment. You really didn’t want him to go. “I’ll brief you in the morning, hopefully nothing too serious.”

“Okay. Um, drive safe.” You stumbled over your words, and you didn’t miss the way his dimple jumped out at your expense. 

“I will. Have a good night.”

“Night,” you mumbled back, watching as his eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before taking his first step back from you. 

“Josh,” you choked out, and he turned back to face you in seconds. He waited for you to say something, but for once in your life, nothing came to mind.

“Cat got your tongue?” He jeered. You hated that he had this effect on you. And he was reveling in it.

“It’s all your fault, you know. Dropping the whole ‘conflict of interest’ bit, and then leaving without any explanation.”

“I’m sorry, let me be a little more clear.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as butterflies erupted in your stomach. 

“Such a charmer,” you whispered as he dipped his head down, and finally kissed you.

His lips were softer than you imagined, slowly moving against your own. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this moment before, but it was surpassing everything you thought it would be. Josh was always gentle with you, and he kissed you just the same. He took his time with you, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the feel of his body against yours.

He was the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours as you caught your breath. 

“I think that made it very clear how much I like you.”

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

“I like you too.” You replied, placing a light kiss on his jaw before pulling back to get another look at him, dimples on display. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m never going to make it back to the White House,” he joked, and you shoved his chest.

“Then get out of here, Josh. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You smiled as he leaned in to kiss you once more, teasing you as he pulled away, leaving you chasing his lips. You placed one more chaste kiss on his lips before letting go of him.

“Goodnight,” he said, gently squeezing your hand before finally walking down the hall. “I’ll be sure to tell Sam I cured you back to health.”

“In your dreams, Lyman.”

*****

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2024 Day 28

Conspiracy theory or propaganda

So today's entry is special because it's possibly my last one unless I managed to do something else in the following days, and because it covers two prompts at once. The aforementioned, obviously, and also the one about OCs.

I already posted about Molly during last year's Kloktober though it's not necessary to check that one to read this. She just...certainly appears here.

“Rivalry turned friendship? Did the long time feud has finally come to an end? Dethklok’s guitarists Skwisgaar Skwigelf and Toki Wartooth were spotted in the Bahamas beaches very cozy with each other!” The Dethklok Minute Host said, as footage of the pair flashed on the screen. In one of the photos, Toki was hugging Skwisgaar from behind, in another, they were holding hands while walking along the shore. 

“In fact, fans are beginning to theorize that there might be something more amongst the musicians!” He continued, as a third picture showed their grainy silhouettes in what seemed to be an intimate moment under an umbrella.

“I’ve known ever since I first saw Dethklok live.” A brunette girl with low ponytails declared on camera. She was wearing a shirt with a badly edited image of Skwisgaar and Toki. “Their energy on stage, the sexual tension…” She giggled, adjusting her steamed glasses. “It’s clear they’re not just bandmates, they are f-”

“I used to dream about them making out during a show or something.” Another girl was shown. She had long black curls and half-lidded eyes. “Or one of them confessing their feelings during an interview, you know? I can’t believe they’re finally together!” She jumped in excitement. “So excited for the next Dethklok concert!” 

“Duh, Skwistok is, like, legendary amongst musician pairs”. A blond girl with short hair declared. “They’re soulmates, it was clearly about time for them to realize that.” She shrugged. “Toki even dated a woman that looks like Skwisgaar!”

“Conspiracy or truth?” The Dethklok Minute Host pointed at this screen. “Are Skwisgaar and Toki exploring something else besides death metal harmonies? Guess we’ll have to find out! Stay tuned for the next Dethklok minu-” The TV was turned off before he managed to finish.

Charles turned with the remote in his hand. “I thought you promised me you’d be careful, boys.”

“Hows was we supposeds to knows about the papapizza was in the beach too?” Toki threw his arms in the air. “You tolds Toki you has reserveds it for us!”

“Well, see, that’s the point.” Charles said. “You’re not safe anywhere from paparazzis. That’s why I told you to be careful.”

“You didn’ts says dats expleaseticivelies!” Skwisgaar countered with an accusing finger. “You didn’t says dats at alls!”

“I did, in fact, I said it, uh, many times.”

“You lies! You lies through yours mouth!”

“I believe the expression you’re looking for is lying through your nose and-”

Toki gasped, covering his mouth. “Yous calling me a liar?”

“I don’t-”

“You calls us liars?” Skwisgaar frowned. “You ams aware dat ams homes of phonics and we cants fires you for dats, rights?”

“Alright.” Charles raised his hands in an attempt to stop the nonsense. “I’m merely trying to protect your privacy like you asked me too, but if you want the press to accost you about your relationship then by all means go ahead.” Without expecting an answer, he left.

“He gots mads.” Skwisgaar said.

“How ams they always know?” Toki was looking at the ceiling. “How can theys know befores us?”

“Whats?”

Toki gazed at Skwisgaar. “The goils. They says they knew we ams in loves since forevers ago. Hows?”

“Eugh, Tokes, de fans ams insane, remembers?”

“Ja, buts…” Toki seemed unconvinced.

Skwisgaar suddenly turned serious. “Wells actuallies, I knows somet’ings abouts dat.”

Toki turned to him, intrigued.

Skwisgaar took a deep breath, like he was about to reveal the most compromising information in the world. “Dey has a special cults whats reunites every fridays nights. Dey gathers in a circles wif a candles and pickstures of us in de middles…” He paused. “And dey prays to…”

“Whats?!” 

Blue eyes bore into him. “Ams you shores yous ready for dis?”

“Yeah! What ams dey prayings for?!”

“Homos sex!” Skwisgaar blurted with a cackle and Toki rolled his eyes.

“Ha has…very funnies, Skwisgaar…ams totallies dyings from laughters…”

“Oh, come ons!” Skwisgaar hugged him by the necks. “What ams you worrieds abouts? They knows nothingks!”

Toki forced a smile. “Ja, yous probably rights…fans ams weirdos…”

“They ams.” Skwisgaar turned on the TV, except this time he was looking for a different channel. “Just delusionals peoples.”

“Ja…”

–

The battered man was dragged by a couple of individuals wearing long, dark cloaks. Their faces darkened, they wordlessly brought the man inside a basement, where many more people in the same attire were reunited. 

“Agh!” The man screamed as he was shoved inside. He was so roughed up he couldn't tell if the light was red or it was the blood in his eyes. “Let me go!” He tried to free himself from the handcuffs to no avail.

One of the cloaked individuals whispered to what seemed to be the leader of the place.

“Bring him to me.” The leader said, in a surprisingly effeminate voice. 

In a flash, the man was tossed into the cold concrete, and the cloaked people gathered around him in a circle. They all held the same book in their hands though he couldn’t see what it was. The leader approached him and they all began chanting incomprehensible words.

“What is this?! Where am I?!” He felt something wet under him and looked down to realize the floor was stained with blood. When he looked up, he saw the leader being handed a guitar that she handled like a weapon. “No!” He tried to escape when she walked closer but he was surrounded by all sides. “Why?!”

The leader’s hood fell on her shoulders, revealing a brunette girl with low ponytails. The light was reflecting on her glasses and didn’t allow him to see her eyes. “Why?” She repeated, still raising the guitar in the air. “Well, for Skwistok.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t take it personal.” She said, completely devoid of expression. “You’re just a sacrifice to preserve Skwistok.” She paused. “So they’re always together.”

“What the hell are you- no, no, no! Wait! No-” The guitar crashed against the man’s head, cracking his skull in half. His torso fell on the floor, lifeless as the chants grew louder.

“Skwistok real! Skwistok real!” The group recited, raising their arms in celebration.

The girl smiled, wiping the blood off her cheek as someone took away the guitar. A new candle was lit and added to the hundreds of candles surrounding the basement.

Outside, a sign on the door read “Skwistok Cult”.

[mushiewrites]

Just A Little Bit

well....it's certainly been a minute, hasn't it

but what better way to come back than lee!George week??? If you didn't know (or sleep under a rock), @wishitweresummer is hosting a lee!george week, perfectly named lee!GeorgeSummer (make sure to use that as the hashtag if you contribute)! if you click this link, you can find out all the details about the upcoming week! I got to do my own lee!george week last May and it was the most incredible thing, I honestly am so excited to see what everyone does!

okay, anyway, we're starting off with day 1 - first time!

this idea came to me randomly at 5:30 this morning when I saw a random text post, and it gave me the biggest shot of inspiration, and FINALLY cured my writers block! so much so that I...wrote a pretty long one. ha ha...whoops. aaaanyway, thank you to summer for hosting this awesome week and for cheering me on while you watched me destroy george in the ending, and thank you to my partner in crime @awkwardtickleetoo for listening to me whine about writers block for months, and for supporting me through it all AND reading this before it was posted. couldn't have done this without you both, thank you so much <3

OKAY I promise I'm done rambling, please enjoy the fic! :D

(lee!George / ler!Dream / ler!Sapnap : 4.5K words)

“Dream! Come on, I have to show you something!” 

Dream rolled his eyes as Sapnap called him from downstairs for the fifth time in under a minute, chuckling to himself at how impatient he could be. Despite being annoyed, he was also incredibly intrigued, and so he saved the video he had been editing before standing up to go see what all the fuss was about. On his short walk to the end of the hallway, he could hear George squealing and protesting, though he couldn’t make out what was being said. 

“What is so important that it couldn’t wait until I finished the video?” Dream called as he reached the thin railing at the top of the steps, clasping his hands around it and leaning forward to find where the two boys were. However, his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he took in the unexpected scene below him. 

In the living room was Sapnap, straddling a very squirmy George on the couch. George was screaming and thrashing around while Sapnap was beside himself with laughter through it all. They continued to fight as Dream quickly made his way down the steps, almost losing his balance as he refused to take his eyes off the two as he descended. 

“What are you doing-“ Dream’s question was cut off by a squeal from George, who was throwing his body around so violently it looked as if Sapnap was riding a bull. 

“DREAM! STOP HIM!” 

“Well, what is he-“ Again, Dream’s question was cut off by a scream, this time coming from Sapnap. George had attempted to knee him between the legs, and Sapnap had barely stopped it before it was too late.

“Well now you’re really fucked, aren’t you, George?” Sapnap leaned down close to his face, invading his space with a wide smirk as George’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. He shook his head from side to side frantically, spewing out apologies and practically pleading for his life. 

“No! No nohoho no! P-Please! Sapnap, come on!” George pleaded through nervous giggles as he continued to kick and squirm, attempting to escape the smaller boy in any way he could. But Sapnap held his own on George’s waist, clamping his thighs tighter together and giggling triumphantly when it effectively lessened the squirming.

“Can someone just tell me what’s going on?” Dream spoke up awkwardly, now standing at the end of the couch, unsure of what to do. Sapnap and George immediately looked towards the voice, almost as if they forgot the other was there in the first place.

“Oh, right! So, our best buddy Georgie here is- MHF!” George had successfully slapped a hand over Sapnap’s mouth, preventing him from sharing the information with their third party. Sapnap raised an eyebrow down at George, and no more than a second later Sapnap’s hands lowered onto his ribs. The hand over his mouth immediately dropped as George brought his arms to his sides, pressing them tightly against his body as he threw his head back, eyes screwed shut in what seemed to be agony. 

“George are you-“

“Oh don’t worry, he’s fine! He just doesn’t want you to find out about his little secret.” Sapnap cut him off once again, causing Dream to run a hand through his messy curls in frustration. 

“Shut UP, Snapmap!” George hissed from below Sapnap, articulating the dreaded nickname as he reached both hands up to try and cover his mouth again. Unfortunately for George, Sapnap’s strength was too much for him, and his wrists were scooped up into a tight hold. 

“If he doesn’t want me to know, it’s okay!” Dream blurted out quickly, seeing how panicked George was becoming. Sapnap shook his head as he chuckled, looking down at George with wiggling eyebrows before he turned his attention back to the blonde.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Sapnap started, his chuckles turning into bright giggles as George struggled harder than he had before to break free. The older boy let out a scream, trying to talk over Sapnap, which in turn only made him more keen on exposing him. George continued to scream every time Sapnap attempted to even open his mouth, and finally fed up with the boy, he placed his hand harshly over George’s mouth. When the noise was finally muffled, Sapnap flashed Dream the biggest smile he had ever seen in their time living together.

“The big secret is that our little friend here…” Sapnap raised his eyebrows as his mouth hung open, pausing for dramatic effect to make Dream laugh. “Is extremely, devastatingly, ticklish.”

Dream felt his jaw drop slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, no doubt looking like a lost puppy as his two friends watched his reaction. George whined behind Sapnap’s hand, squealing when Sapnap released his previously held wrist in favor of roughly squeezing his cheek. The pinching hand was quickly slapped away, but Sapnap made sure to keep his other pressed tightly over George’s mouth. Dream made his way over to where they were on the couch, standing over them and shrugging his shoulders at the two.

“…Really? That’s it?” Dream questioned, not understanding what the huge deal was.

“No, like, Dream. You have to see it. It’s kind of insane how ticklish he is.” Sapnap explained, giggling as George began screaming behind his hand again. Dream looked down at George, purely out of curiosity, and was surprised when the brunette immediately turned his head to face the couch cushions. He chewed on his bottom lip as he turned his gaze to Sapnap, questioning the action, but it went ignored.

“I’m serious! You need to see it! No, wait. Actually, you need to experience it. You need to tickle him, Dream!” Sapnap exclaimed, giggling again when George tried to buck his hips up to make Sapnap lose his balance. 

“No, come on Sap, I can see he doesn’t like it.” Dream spoke softly, craning his neck slightly as he leaned his body forward to try and get a glimpse of George. This only made him lean into the cushions more, now trapping Sapnap’s hand between his mouth and the couch. 

“No no, don’t mind him! He’s fine, Dream! Just scribble your fingers here!” Sapnap poked at George’s lower tummy twice, making George jolt underneath him and causing Dream to jump back at the panicked action. 

“Sapnap, no, we don’t have to-“ Dream tried again, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot, watching as George fought for his life underneath the youngest boy. Sapnap finally removed his hand from over George’s mouth, successfully opening the floodgates to his screams and frantic laughter. George kept his forehead pressed against the cushions, leaving room for him to continue yelling as he blindly battled with Sapnap’s hands that were actively trying to render his own useless. 

“It’s fine! He loves it!” Sapnap countered through bubbly giggles, his voice growing louder to drown out George’s girlish screams as he finally managed to wrangle the small wrists down against the couch. 

Dream crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his elbows in thought, trying to find the words to make Sapnap stop, when George finally turned his head away from the couch. This left room for the two to finally make eye contact. It was brief, only lasting a few seconds before George turned back towards the couch, but Dream knew immediately what was really going on. It wasn’t that George was uncomfortable like he had initially thought; it wasn’t because he hated it. 

Dream was incredibly familiar with George’s tells. Like how his nose would scrunch up whenever he tried a new food he didn’t like. The way George would mess with his hair whenever he got tired, always tangling small strands around his pointer finger without a thought. Dream knew that  whenever George would stomp down the steps to steer clear of him until he satisfied his inner hunger-beast. 

And he definitely recognized this particular George.

The deep red in his cheeks. The glassy eyes. The continuous whining through his protests that seemed never ending. Dream knew what this really was. George was simply embarrassed. 

Realizing this, Dream felt all the tension in his shoulders melt away, finally allowing his arms to drop and a smile to form over his face. He took a step forward, his knees lightly pressing into the seat cushions as he leaned his upper body over George. Already anticipating he would hide further into the couch, Dream brought a hand up to lean on the back of the couch to steady himself and used his free hand to run through George’s hair. Dream’s smile widened when George let out a high pitched whine at the feeling, angry at his body for betraying him as he leaned into the touch. 

“Someone’s embarrassed.” Dream stated nonchalantly, sending George into another round of loud protests that had Sapnap in near stitches. Hearing both boys giggle only made George’s blush spread, and he quickly hid his face back into the cushion as his face continued to rise in temperature. 

“Awh, is wittle Georgie embawassed?” Sapnap teased, squeezing his wrists a few times playfully to make George struggle against him more. To his surprise, George wasn’t fighting back nearly as hard anymore. Dream was still scratching lightly at his scalp, and the longer it went on the more Sapnap felt George relax beneath him. Slowly, Sapnap released George’s hands, silently observing as the wrists stayed pressed to the couch despite not being held down anymore. 

“You’re both idiots.” George mumbled quietly into the fabric, bringing his left hand up to cover his ear and the visible side of his face to hide his own smile. Sapnap reached out to grab onto his wrist, ready to pull it back down, but Dream stopped him before he could. Sapnap met his eyes in confusion, only to have his features soften a few seconds later when he understood the silent agreement Dream was trying to make. 

“Oh, come on, George. I can tell you love this. Just let it happen.” Dream suggested, receiving a high pitched growl in response. His hand never wavered from carding through George’s hair as he slowly brought himself down into a kneeling position, therefore freeing up the hand he was using to balance himself against the couch. He brought the hand down the front of the cushion slowly, allowing George time to stop him if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. Just like Dream expected.

“If you need me to stop, just tell me, okay?” George’s nod was almost missed, and would’ve been if Dream hadn’t been watching the blush slowly spread onto his ears. The tips of them were beginning to turn a deep shade of red, and Dream wondered if his cheeks were the same hue. He quickly dispelled the curiosity though, not wanting to make George shy away while in this very vulnerable position. 

“Mh mhhm.” Sapnap and Dream exchanged a quick glance to see if the other had caught what George said, but unfortunately neither did. Sapnap sat back on his heels, providing George more space to breathe as Dream did the same. The only touch left on George was the hand steadily scratching, with Dream’s fingertips lightly resting against the seat cushion next to his torso. 

“What was that, baby?” Sapnap tried to be as soft as possible, understanding the importance of keeping his tone neutral so as to not spook George.

“My…my hands.” 

“What about them?” Dream spoke next, leaning a little closer in to hear the muffled speech. 

“I just. I can’t keep them down once you start.” He practically whispered, bringing his other hand up to cover his face completely as he spoke. Dream moved his hand from the couch to rest it against George’s bicep closest to him, rubbing soothingly over the shirt sleeve with his thumb. 

“That’s okay, angel, if you need to stop me you can.” He reassured George, carding a little more harshly through his hair as a playful gesture with his gentle words.

“Well…it’s not that I want to. I just…can’t help it.” George let his voice trail off into a whisper, obviously embarrassed about his confession. He quickly tried to twist his body away from the two, but was stopped by Dream’s sudden grip on his arm. The older boy whimpered, allowing himself to be returned to his position on his back, facing the ceiling. His hands were still clamped tightly over his face, a poor attempt at blocking the two from seeing his blush. Dream and Sapnap just about cooed audibly at that, but stopped themselves before they ruined the calm atmosphere they were currently in. 

“Do you want me to hold your wrists down for you?” Dream asked. George slowly spread his fingers apart, meeting Dream’s eyes before speaking. 

“No, not you! Sapnap!” He barked, closing the gaps in his fingers when the two laughed at his outburst. “You think I want Sapnap to do that to me? He’ll kill me!” Sapnap sat up on his knees with a hand thrown over his heart like he had just been shot, offended by George’s accusation. 

“To be fair, he does have a point, Sap.” George giggled quietly at the comment, causing Sapnap to poke timidly into his lower ribs with both pointer fingers. Dream watched as George’s body jerked to the side, amazed at how such a tiny touch could produce such a reaction. 

“See! I told you he was bad!” Sapnap playfully slapped Dream’s shoulder when he noticed him looking, further proving the point he was previously attempting to make. 

“Shut up!” George screeched from behind his hands, moving them up his face slightly until he was able to lightly grip some of his hair that draped over his forehead. Dream shot one last warning glare Sapnap’s way before he turned back to George, delicately gripping his wrists and moving them slowly towards Sapnap; slow enough that George could stop it if he wanted to. 

But again, he didn’t. And again, it was exactly what Dream had expected. 

Sapnap took George’s wrists, moving them down until his hands rested against the couch on either side of his thighs. Dream sat up further, crowding a little more into George’s space in order to place both hands on either side of his ribcage. He looked down at George, searching for any sign that he wanted this to stop, that he was uncomfortable, too nervous, but Dream found none. And so, he lifted his hands from the couch and let them touch down onto George’s body, not moving them yet, but resting so he could get used to the feeling at his own pace. 

“Fuck!” George cried out when he felt Dream’s fingers press against his lowest set of ribs, throwing himself upwards as his back arched into the sky against his will. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into the couch again, embarrassed by his own reactions. 

“I didn’t even do anything yet, George.” Dream snorted.

“I-I know but, like, I know you’re gonna!” George whined, throwing his head back when Dream poked his cheek to get him to return his head straight so they could see him. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to look at either of them but still obeying Dream’s quiet request anyway.

“It’s alright, Georgie. It’s just a little tickling.” Sapnap teased, vibrating George’s wrists softly into the couch as he spoke. George giggled at that, followed by a deep exhale he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. And after that much needed release, his nerves were finally calming down. 

“I know, I know. But it’s still, like..y’know, flustering or whatever.” George grumbled, peeking out of one eye to see what the two were up to. Just as he decided to do that, though, Dream poked gently up his ribs, directly up to the highest ones, stopping there when George shrieked in response. 

“Plehehease please please! No!” His laughter was louder now that Dream was focused on such a tiny, hypersensitive spot, unable to hold it in any longer. Sapnap giggled along with George as he made sure to keep the squirmy boy down, leaning forward slightly to put more of his weight into restraining George. 

“You’re okay, George. Like Sap said, it’s just a little bit of tickling, right?” It was Dream’s turn to tease him, relishing in the feeling of being the one to make George react like this. He pressed two of his fingers into both sides of his upper ribs, rubbing slightly to see what George would do.

“FUCK NOHOHOHO!” George was howling at that, the sound of heavy thudding coming from behind Sapnap as George drummed his legs against the couch as he thrashed. Dream wished he could whip out his phone and snap a picture of Sapnap, who looked as if he’d just found a goldmine. Technically, it was Dream who found it, but Sapnap’s reaction was just as good as George’s was. 

“Are you doing okay?” Dream asked loud enough for George to hear over his own laughter. He saw a slight nod but decided to pause entirely to make sure, not wanting to overwhelm George. 

“Yehehes, I’m okay, just…please, you hahave to move!” George pleaded as he let his head lull to the side, breathing heavily through his nose as he recovered from the mini tickle attack. Dream rolled his eyes as he watched George’s chest heave up and down dramatically, still surprised at the intense reactions such little tickling was causing.

“Okay, giggly boy, I hear you loud and clear,” Dream began, lifting his hands up and wiggling his fingers over George’s torso. “How about…here?” 

“Wh- NO!” George’s protest came too late as Dream tapped his fingers gently over his lower tummy, kneading gently into it and giggling softly to himself when George squealed in response. He felt his finger catch on the edge of his bellybutton, making George’s laughter jump an octave. Dream ran his fingers over the spot directly under it, back and forth, over and over, until eventually deciding to spider them out towards his hips. Sapnap bounced as George attempted to buck his hips into the air, squealing when Dream’s thumbs found his hip bones and rubbed into them roughly. 

“Oh, there’s good, huh?” Dream commented, looking up to Sapnap for confirmation while George was busy laughing under his fingers. 

“Definitely a good spot. I like to get there when he’s being annoying.” Sapnap answered, laughing when Dream tweaked his hip bones again, causing George to squeal through his hysterics. He noted the spot in his mind and continued his ticklish journey to the spots that made George laugh the hardest. His squeezing migrated up to his sides, eyes widening when George suddenly twisted his whole body away from Dream. Sapnap used his knee to press into George’s hip, trapping his waist down against the couch so Dream could continue tickling up his sides. Dream tested the spot further, letting his hands dip under George’s shirt to skitter cold fingertips along the warm skin. 

“Dohohon’t! Plehease!” George begged as Dream’s fingers continued their venture, making sure to knead over each and every rib as they climbed higher and higher. Sapnap watched in awe as George squeezed his eyes shut tighter, a few stray tears collecting together at the outer corners of his eyes as he continued to laugh himself silly. 

“Please? But I have to! You wanted this, remember?” Dream reminded him, using two fingers on each side to act as if his fingers were actually walking up his ribcage. George squirmed from side to side, as much as he could with Sapnap’s full weight practically holding him in place. 

“‘H-Hold my hands Sapnap! Dream, don’t tickle me too much pwetty pwease!’” Sapnap mocked, breaking out into his own laughter when George let out what could only be described as a lion cub’s roar trying to cover up Sapnap’s teases. 

“Stohop, idiot!” George pleaded through his laughter, kicking harder against the couch as he tried to expel the ticklish energy that was coursing through him. 

“Awh, Dweam, I think the pretty kitty is angwy!” Sapnap pretended to pout, sticking his bottom lip out as much as he could as he looked at Dream for fake sympathy. Dream gasped at the comment, feigning surprise at George’s complaints.

“The pretty kitty is angry?” Dream stopped tickling for a moment, removing his hands from under George’s shirt and bringing one up to rest under his chin as he pretended to think over his options. “Well, I think I have just the thing to help with that!” 

“Wait, no, nonono!” George cried out, throwing himself forward to try and counteract Sapnap’s weight to knock him off balance, but all he accomplished was giving Sapnap more of a reason to make him suffer. 

“You wanna play it like that, baby boy? Okay, I can do that.” Sapnap spoke flatly, stopping his moments for a second before throwing himself further over George, flinging his arms up and over his head, pressing his wrists deep into the cushions as George begged and apologized profusely under him. 

“Noho NO! I’m sorry! I’m sohoho sorry!” George tried to talk his way out of his impending doom, but it fell onto deaf ears as Sapnap leaned forward slightly, dragging his wrists up further until George’s arms were practically straight up over his head. The position had him completely stretched out, not only extending the area of his torso, but more importantly, leaving a very vulnerable opening under his arms. 

“Sorry won’t cut it, George. We want you to be happy! We can’t have our little kitty angry, now, can we?” Dream spoke over the screaming, ignoring the many apologies and threats that were now being thrown their way. “You leave us no choice, pretty boy.” With that, Dream lunged forward, letting his fingers dance under George’s arms with speed and precision that only a ballerina could possess. 

It was an understatement to claim that George lost his mind. 

George screamed out, high pitched and desperate as Dream’s fingers made circles under his arms, zoning in on the very centers. His laughter was hysterical, having no choice but to lay there and take whatever tickles Dream decided to make him endure. There was a brief pause, just to let George take in a quick gasp of air, and then Dream was back to the torment.

“Surely it can’t be that bad, George.” Sapnap chortled, watching as the small body below him writhed in ticklish agony. Dream took this opportunity to shove his hands inside of George’s shirt sleeves, using his two pointer fingers to gently scribble at the outer parts of his armpits, watching for every tiny jump and twitch from George as he did. 

“Yeah, I’m sure I could be doing something much worse,” Dream smirked, looking up at Sapnap with raised eyebrows as he began to spider all ten of his fingers under George’s arms. “Something like this, right? That’s worse?” 

“Wh-wait, wa-AHAHAHAIT! NOHOHO!” George was full on shrieking now, squirming and thrashing and throwing his body every which way to try and escape the torturous feeling. As Dream continued the tickling, George quickly lost his ability to speak, just blurting out little half pleads here and there whenever he got a second to breathe. His head was titled so far back the two thought he might snap it off if he leaned it back any farther. The tears that had been clinging to his eyelashes finally fell, rapidly descending down each side of his cheeks, right over his ears, that were burning hot from all the laughing. 

“Okay I think- woah! What- Sapnap!”

Just as Dream had noticed the tears and decided to put an end to George’s torment, Sapnap had other ideas. He let go of George’s wrists, allowing him to fling them down, nearly decapitating Dream in the process, in favor of reaching behind him to squeeze the inner part of George’s thighs. His laughter refused to go any higher, and so it went silent as he pounded his fists against Sapnap’s own thighs. 

“Okay, Sap, that’s enough. We’re not trying to kill him!” Dream reached behind Sapnap, quickly putting an end to Sapnap’s vice-like grip on George’s thighs. Sapnap rolled his eyes with an overexaggerated sigh, annoyed that his fun was ruined before it even got started. 

“I guess you’re right.” Sapnap pouted again as he climbed off of George, picking up his legs and placing them over his own thighs as Sapnap sat on the couch next to him. He rubbed at the sore muscles, giggling when bubbly laughter exploded from George at the action. 

“Y-You were supposed tohoho be nihihice!” George weakly pointed a finger in Dream’s direction, causing the two boys to laugh along with him when he pointed the complete opposite way of Dream, his eyes still closed as he took in quick gasps through the leftover giggles to try and steady his breathing. Dream slid his arms under George’s torso, picking him up and maneuvering a very limp George into his lap as he climbed up onto the couch next to Sapnap. He draped George’s back over his thighs, using his arm as a headrest for George. 

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just hard not to get carried away when I’m tickling someone this cute.” Dream smiled down at him, bringing his thumbs up to rub the tears away from under George’s eyes. A moment later, George’s eyes fluttered open, his hands coming up to rub his knuckles harshly into them as he got used to the light again. 

“Yeah, yeah. Remember that when I get you both back, later.” George threatened, giggling up at the two when they exchanged nervous glances. “Yeah, that’s right. And don’t think you both will team up on me again. You’re both too smart for that. You’ll turn on each other, just wait.” 

Sapnap and Dream turned towards each other, smiles slowly fading into determined looks. Suddenly George was on his back on the floor as they both scrambled to run out of the living room, trailing each other up the steps, shouting threats and cursing each other as they made their way to their respective rooms, slamming the doors behind them. Not even a second later, George heard his phone vibrating like crazy on the couch cushions above him. He picked up his phone, smirking when he had messages from both boys, detailing each other’s weaknesses and vowing to make amends with him to take the other one down. George giggled to himself, standing up and walking over to where Patches had been sitting on the other end of the couch, snuggling up with her.

He had them exactly where he wanted them. 

(you can find this fic on ao3 here!)

[wot-tidbits]

The Pattern has a sense of humor.

After taking some time of that shocking incident being published in an article, I am still trying to process the situation.

When I wrote my attempt to put some rumours out there, it was not expected to blow out as I am aware that my “influence” on the matter of the TV show is nonexistent. I was sharing for fun.

But suddenly some guy had the thought process of

“How to write an article about the current state of the TV show? Oh, yeah, I got Rafe Judkins, the producer. Reasonable. And that Mormon guy who were involved with finishing the books, Brandon Sanderson. Yeah, that guy. He is famous around. Reasonable, right? Aaaand I need something more. Someone else. Oh, I got it! Some stranger from …not only the Internet but Tumblr in specific! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have to include it! Rafe Judkins. Brandon Sanderson. And equally important third guy! My article is now ready to go!"

So you are writing a piece and use information that cannot be verified, no source is given, the person in particular is no known name for the fans of the TV series. How you decide to use that guy? What was the thought process behind it?

My reaction when the article was shown to me – I was confused how it is possible my blog to be used at all. There is nothing verified in my post. How??!!? Even if I claim these rumors to be 100% truth - still no basis to believe any of it.

My post was motivated by the lack of attention on Sony and trying to dump everything bad on Amazon. Which even without the rumours it wouldn’t make sense to me. And the writer just happened to have the same idea and it seems I was the only one who can validate their suspicions.

The Pattern made a good joke.

And the joke is even funnier on the detail that I am bloody bookcloak. The whole Tumblr is trying and trying to boost some campaign. And then all of sudden it is me who achieved more than the whole Tumblr gang for the campaign in question. By a bookcloak. My post even did some influence on the official organization for the campaign. By a bookcloak. Not many “haters” can say that, I guess. :D

It is funny how the article was shared around on Tumblr by people who blocked me but yet they basically shared my name through it. I always find a way.

I still somehow make influence despite being persona non grata on WoT fandom on Tumblr (and for the TV show fans). I don’t know how to explain it. And it is not the first time that such weird shit happens to me. May be it is finally time to write down about some of the most crazy stuff that happened to me behind the scenes. This kind of stories related to me happened too many times for just to be an coincidence. There is a Pattern. ba-dum-tsss.

Let the Light keep you safe. LightOne

[hesawifebeaterdanusethegun]

Part Four of my as yet untitled Dark City Doctor Schreber fic! Idk why I keep posting these but maybe some of you will enjoy them :3

Part One

Part Two

            It was hard to believe that Kat had only worked at Doctor Schreber’s office for about three weeks. It felt like she’d been there for years. Things were going well for her lately. She had a great new job, she could pay her rent and afford to eat on one paycheck, and she was even able to start paying down her debts. And her boss wasn’t a creep, she couldn’t forget about that. Finally working for someone who seemed to actually respect her as a person had changed her for the better, and it showed in her outlook.

            Before she’d gotten this job, life hadn’t always been kind to her. She had no family, no friends to speak of, in the City or anywhere else. She was on her own. Usually she liked it that way, being on her own was what she knew, just getting by without the help of anyone else was how she lived. She’d been proud of making it on her own for the time that she had, before that last job threw it all in the gutter.

            She had been walking absentmindedly for a few minutes, her mind wandering through these thoughts as easily as she wound through the streets of the City she’d grown up in. She was lost in though when a man stepped in front of her, blocking her way out of the alley she’d been walking down. He was tall, heavyset but not fat, wearing a long duster coat and sporting a black fedora on his head.

            “Where do you think you’re goin’ little lady?” He grinned, revealing a gold tooth on the right side of his mouth. He smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in several days and in that time had gone a bit overboard on the liquor, though these details she wouldn’t remember later to relay to the police, her panic sending her into fight or flight. Or freeze apparently because that’s all she’d done so far during this encounter. He slid behind her, an arm around her neck, and led her backwards into the shadow of the alley.

            “I was just gonna rob ya, but now I think I’ll have a little fun while I’m at it.” He chuckled as she felt the blade of a small knife at her throat. She panicked at this, slamming her body backward into the man, throwing him off balance and freeing herself from his grip. She turned, kicking him hard in the groin before running away as fast as she could (faster than she thought she could, for that matter). She heard him grunt and hit the ground as she ran. She hoped she’d left the bastard with at least a nasty bruise for his trouble, she’d realize later she’d also left him her bag as a consolation prize, but at least she’d gotten away safely.

She was closer to work than she was home, so she went there, it was the only place she could think of to go, hoping the Doctor would be there. She didn’t want to be alone right now. The elevator attendant eyed her strangely as he pulled the lever to take them to the third floor.

“Bit late for you to be here isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She replied shortly before giving a nervous laugh. They’d arrived at the third floor. She got out of the car and thanked him.

“Well have a good night, little lady,” he said before disappearing into the floor.

His words sent a fresh wave of panic through her and she slid to the floor, back to the wall, while she attempted to catch her breath. The doctor must have heard the elevator door clanging on its way down, as he appeared at the door of his lab a moment later. He looked around, confused and a little worried as to who might be visiting him at this hour, expecting the worst.

Then he saw Kat, hunched over with her back against the wall. He rushed over to her, kneeling in front of her.

“Katherine, can you hear me?” a bit of panic tinged his voice as he spoke. He took her hands in his, they were cold. She was breathing rapidly and he felt as if he could hear her heart hammering. She was in shock. He gently helped her up and led her to the room where they’d conducted that first interview, helping her to sit down on the overstuffed leather couch and wrapping a blanket he’d found in his lab around her back. He pulled his chair up close and checked her pulse, it was slowing.

“Katherine, can you hear me?” he repeated after he’d situated her as comfortably as he could. She slowly looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time. She nodded.

“I can hear you,” she stated flatly, tiredly.

“Katherine, what happened?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I just… I didn’t know where else to go,” her voice was choked as if she were holding back a sob. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Gently he coaxed the story of what happened from her, his anger growing over what she’d been through that night. He wouldn’t let this happen again. Once she’d calmed down he called the police. About a half hour later two officers finally showed up to take her account of what happened. He stayed with her while they questioned her, his hand on her shoulder and a protective eye on her.

After the ordeal was over and the police report filed, they found themselves alone again.

“I’m so sorry about this, Doctor, I’ll just-”

“Daniel.”

“I’m sorry?”             “You can call me Daniel, Katherine.”

“I guess this means you should call me Kat,” she responded with a small smile.

Part Four Section One

[sawyerquinnbrown]

My neighbor upstairs runs an Airbnb out of his apartment, which has led to many interesting and exciting situations for me. Well, I say ‘exciting’, mostly I mean ‘inconvenient’ and sometimes ‘hilarious.’

Last month I discovered that, while I on the ground floor have a one-bedroom with a tiny office, my upstairs neighbor has 4 bedrooms on two floors that he rents by himself for about a billion US dollars, so it makes perfect sense that he would run an Airbnb, to recoup some of his costs. I imagine it takes a strength of character when you live in an Airbnb, because personally, I don’t want people in my house. That’s why I moved to my own place at 36; I’d had enough. My only roommates now are two very attractive and high-quality felines, who will be introduced in more detail in a later blog post.

Anyway, the Airbnb. The first thing I noticed once this started was that I was constantly jumping whenever someone was coming through the front gate and tromping up the stairs, which was frequent. This is due to my anticipation of my many online purchases. (I purchase many things online because 1) it’s fun to receive things in the mail and 2) I don’t like to leave my house—there’s weather out there, and also bugs.) So: many comings and goings and creakings of the gate.

The second thing I noticed occurred one day when I heard some rattling outside my door. That’s odd, I thought, I’m not expecting any guests. Actually, my thought process was more like Aaaaaa, someone’s trying to break into my apartment! (My upstairs neighbor had been robbed a couple months prior, so this was a totally rational and normal and not-overreactive thing to panic about.) I am Extremely Brave™ (No.), so I went to the door and opened it to discover a hapless traveler with a large rolling suitcase attempting to open the lockbox I hung outside my door. Much relieved, I informed the traveler that the lockbox he was looking for was upstairs.

(Sidenote about the lockbox: I hung it up shortly after moving in because of the time I locked myself out. I was trying this cool thing called “Carrying stuff in my pockets like a dude” due to extreme gender dysphoria, and I left my keys inside my apartment. My landlord was kind enough to charge me $25 to unlock my door, and I ordered the lockbox as soon as I got inside. $25! ::snarling noises::)

The third point of excitement occurred late one night when a knock came at my door around 11:30pm. At the door stood an older butch woman who had run into the same problem as I had: she’d locked her keys inside the apartment, in this case the Airbnb. Unable to get in contact with my neighbor, she was trapped outside. I volunteered to text him and in exchange she offered me a beer. I feel guilty about not offering to let her kip on my air mattress, but, as previously stated, I don’t like to have people in my house.

Finally we come to the real issue of neighboring an Airbnb: too-generous guests. This sounds counterintuitive, so let me explain. As I mentioned, I like to receive packages in the mail so I can open presents I ordered for myself. However, due to Chicago being weird (in my experience as a former Bostonian), my ground floor apartment being a “1” and the upstairs apartment being a “2” is apparently unusual. Typically, I’ve been told, “1” is upstairs. So despite the very clear and large numeral “2” on my neighbor’s mailbox, everyone likes to deliver my stuff up the stairs. The too-nice Airbnb-ers see these packages and say to themselves, Aha! A package for my host! and without checking the name on the package, helpfully carry them inside and lock the door. I am left bereft, knowing my package has arrived but unable to access, for instance, a box of lightbulbs (listen, I know. Adults get excited about the weirdest things).

If you liked this post, please check out my Wordpress blog or buy me a Ko-fi!

[stayinzencity]

heroine’s manual S1 E3

GENRE: Romcom, Drama | love triangles, childhood friends, high school au | INSPIRED BY: Heroine Shikkaku (shoujo manga) | LENGTH: ~1.4K | RATING: Teen | WARNINGS: mentions of food, eating | PAIRINGS: Minho x MC (Reader), Minho x OC (Heather) | TAGLIST: @linoscence @elizabeth11moreno  (ask to be added) | A/N: this chapter finally came out of the drafts after years thanks to @jisungsdaydreamer (and me accidentally posting part 5 first oops)

♡ previous episode 

♡ return to main

THREE. Even if he rejects me, I won't give up so easily and allow someone else to steal my spot.

Inviting Heather to hang out is a mistake. Having your friends around doesn't make you feel any less of a third wheel. It’s Heather who’s supposed to be the odd one out amongst your group, yet somehow it feels like the rest of you are the ones intruding. You can't bear to witness the shy glances and gentle smiles Minho and Heather exchange.

You're trying to come up with an excuse to break them apart without being the bad guy, when a crash comes to your rescue.

"Ah. My bad," Jisung apologizes, looking down at the glass he'd accidently knocked over. He'd been sitting next to Heather, and while the glass was fortunately intact, water had spilled onto Heather's lap. 

"Looks like you’re the victim of Jisung's idiocy today." Hyunjin hands her napkins, attempting to ease her through the awkwardness with his charming smile. He shoots Jisung a withering glare, getting a sheepish look and shrug in reply.  

"I guess I should get going," Heather says. She rises from her seat in a hurry, but a hand over hers gives her a reason to wait. 

Hyunjin.

Minho's expression is closer to amusement than jealousy, watching as his friend calls his girlfriend - by her actual name, not the nickname you've given her.

Maybe Hyunjin's crush hasn't disappeared yet. If he and Heather get together, then Minho would be yours again. Everything would fall perfectly in place.

"We don't live that far from each other. I'll take you home." Hyunjin pauses, turning to Minho who's sneaking cake onto Jisung's plate. "If that's fine with your boyfriend?"

"Whatever she wants," Minho says with a shrug. He doesn't seem to be worried about Hyunjin stealing away his girlfriend, which boosts your confidence in your own chances with him. 

"Yeah," you enthusiastically agree, nodding your head. "Hyunjin's a nice guy. Have a wonderful evening!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, scowling at you, instead of being grateful that you're helping him out. One day, he'll figure it out, and thank you.

You lean close to her so that only she - and Hyunjin, perhaps - can hear. "You might even fall for him instead of Minho."

Hyunjin scoffs at your words with an exaggerated eyeroll and drags Heather out the door before you can say anything else.

Seungmin leaves soon after them, muttering something about an assignment that you don't really bother paying attention to.

And then it's just Minho, Jisung and you.

"We should head home too," Minho says. He gets up from the table and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. "It's movie night."

"Ah, right." Jisung sends you a wink, starting the next phase of your plan to set your story on track. "I've got some stuff I need to work on, so I'll have to trust you two to keep our tradition alive even if it’s not the same without me."

And then it was just Minho and you.

It's usually easy to forget Minho's girlfriends exist when they're not around. Often they fade into the background even when they are around.

Yet you find yourself alone with Minho, head in his lap, too distracted to actually watch the show that's playing on the TV. Too much on your mind to even enjoy this moment.

Minho's texting someone, wearing a smile as soft as the one he usually gives you before he wraps you in a hug. 

The someone in question must be Heather. After all, who else could it be? The only real rival you've ever had when it came to Minho's affection and attention is Heather, right?

If there's no struggle, then it won't feel as special when you finally end up together. Heather isn't the heroine. That title belongs to you. You're the one that's always been with Minho. No one else knows him like you do- well, maybe Jisung does. That's a different story though.

If you're the heroine, then why do you feel like you're in second place? Are you falling into a background role in your own story? Could it be you're simply a side character in this tale?

Minho's fingers run through your hair, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You're the one here with him, not Heather. You're the heroine, not her. There's still hope. 

“I like you,” you blurt. It's far from the confession you had planned, especially since you weren't even the one who was supposed to be saying the words first. Sometimes you need to improvise to get the perfect scenes, so it's ok. “I like you so much.”

Minho’s hand stops stroking your hair. He doesn’t take it away, so you don’t attempt to sit up. You want to be close to him, for as long as you can. 

Any moment now, he'll admit his feelings for you and you'll be the one beside him instead of Heather. 

You know that, but if somehow these are the last moments you’ll have with him, you want to remember them being pleasant. Besides, you don’t exactly want to look at his face right now. The aftermath of a confession is more mortifying than you imagined, especially when you haven't gotten an answer in return. 

“I know,” he says. 

And that’s it. He doesn't say anything else. And you don't have the courage to ask what your words meant to him. 

The couple on screen breaks up and eventually makes up, but you don't even remember their names anymore. Tears fall from your eyes and you wipe them away. 

"I can't watch this anymore," you manage to whisper. It's not the drama that has you crying. You know it, and you know Minho probably does too. "I'll head home."

Minho doesn't try to stop you as you leave. As tempting as it is to turn back, you're too afraid that Minho's eyes won't be watching you.

Seungmin once explained some physics cat theory. Put a cat in a box with poison, and it could be both alive or dead as long you don't open it. If you don't check, the cat might still be alive. Something like that.

In your imagination, Minho is woefully watching as you walk away.

After the confession, it's a little hard. Minho isn't actively avoiding you, except he kind of is. He has the perfect excuses, plus the universe seems to be on his side. It's natural for the hero of the story to have exceptional luck. 

As the heroine, you don't seem to have the same advantage. If anything, there's just been obstacles to your perfect ending. The biggest one turning out to be Minho himself.

You thought you didn't have to do anything and everything would fall into place by itself. Then when you took a chance and confessed, you were turned down. But even if he doesn't feel the same way now, you can't give up yet. It hurt when you realized you weren't on the same page as him, but there's still time for him to catch up, right? 

You run into him after class, and he has to catch you before you stumble to the floor. It's a scene straight out of the kind of anime you love to watch. A sign for you to take another chance, except Minho speaks before you can. 

"No."

You haven't even said a word, and you’ve already been shot down. An arrow through your heart, but it seems cupid isn't on your side.

Are you that obvious? Could Minho read minds? Does he really not like you?

"What? I didn't even ask-"

"I won't go out with you."

Ah. Well. Minho hasn't told you that he doesn't like you, though you aren't sure if you could handle hearing those words straight from him. 

"That wasn't what I was going to say," you lie. Your voice is strained, and you can't meet his eyes, so maybe it's not believable. But you can't admit the truth, can you? "I wanted to ask if you had any movie recommendations." 

Minho raises an eyebrow. He's not fooled. Still he goes along with it and makes some suggestions. Not that you’re really paying attention to his words as much as how his voice sounds. 

Minho. It's always been Minho. 

And you were the constant in his life, at least until Heather showed up.

It's hard to admit that she might have stolen the role that was meant for you, but you can't move ahead without accepting that. 

Turns out Minho isn't just on a different page. The title of the book doesn't match either.

You are lost, clueless of what lies ahead. There's one thing you're certain of though.

Even if you’re disqualified as a heroine, your only hero is Minho. 

♡ season one guide

♡ next episode

♡ please leave a comment, reblog with tags or send an ask to let me know what you think!!

© 2024, stayinzencity

[anncanta]

***

It's amazing how some things reveal themselves when you look at them from the outside, through someone else's eyes, or after some time, when you forget the details that lie in the foreground and therefore seem obvious.

I couldn't figure out where I got this pattern in which Dracula in my fanfictions is very careful with Agatha the first time he bites her. It was so bright and acutely palpable, and it appeared again and again. Dracula behaves gently, he does not rush her and somehow makes her understand that it will not be painful and scary, and interesting discoveries await her. You see, it seemed to me that this was just my fantasy. Well, you never know what kind of kinks a person can have. Such light BDSM in a vampire way.

And then I understood, thanks to @moremoveslessannouncements-blog and her post, why. It's in the text. Fanfiction never lies. Fanfics always show what is in the canon, it just may be the main feature of the hero or plot or a secondary one. But in this case, everything was right before my eyes.

You see, I always thought that in the scene in the workshop, he was threatening her. ‘I will make you last’, ‘You'll be part of me’, ‘You'll travel to the new world in my veins’ ... This text is truly threatening. If it weren't for the body language that accompanies it.

Context is important, especially the physical, bodily context.

This is not a threat.

This is a threat.

If you forget about the text for a moment and watch what Dracula is doing, he slowly approaches her, looks at her intently, and gently runs his hand along her neck.

Let's turn on the sound and look at everything together. And again we ask the question – what is he doing?

I mean, not what are his actions, but what are they about?

And I'll tell you. He explains to her what will happen.

And when I realized this, I realized how blind I was. Because, well, look. How many of his victims did Dracula explain what he was going to do to them and how it worked?

Jonathan didn't even know what Dracula was doing until he found himself exhausted at his desk with the prospect of being locked in a box in a couple of weeks.

The Grand Duchess was eaten during a passionate waltz, without further ado.

Abramov and Portman were devoured almost without ceremony.

With Dorabella, Dracula made a good attempt to be polite and gallant but did not go into details of what was happening.

I purposely describe this so cynically so that it is clear what I mean.

Agatha is the only one of all Dracula's victims (perhaps except for Lucy, but that's a separate discussion) to whom he explains what would happen.

I only now realized what it was.

Let's return to Agatha's workshop. Dracula lets Mina go, and he and Agatha are left alone. He knows she's scared. He doesn't see, he knows it. He has an animal sense and can smell her fear. Agatha can be calm outwardly as much as she wants – he senses it. This is not yet Dracula we will see in the third episode, so it doesn't even occur to him to let her go. But he is interested in her. He likes her. And he – clumsily, in his own way, as best he can – calms her down. ‘Don't be afraid. You won't disappear. You will become a part of me. Your life will continue in the new world in a new form.’ And then this touch on the shoulder: ‘Hush, it won't hurt.’

I heard it. This appears in literally every text I write about them, one way or another. But I sincerely thought that it was my imagination.

If anyone still doubts it, then there is a scene between Dracula and Zoe in the third episode. Here, Dracula has already come a long way and therefore can express what he feels, not only with a gesture – now frankly intimate – but also with words. He can tell her this, still rather rudely and seasoned with mockery, but directly: ‘It doesn't have to hurt.’ The scene in his mind palace is not only a dialogue with Zoe here and now. This is a memory. He can afford more now. And he does. But it's still not quite ‘that’. We will see how he succeeded in the finale.

Well, to summarize, I would like to note that this entire storyline is missing in the script. It has the text that Dracula speaks on all three occasions (episode 1, in Agatha's workshop, episode 3, in the mind palace, and the finale), but it doesn't have the body language and subtle interactions that create this entire plot. Which is logical – the film and the script are not the same thing, the film is formed in the process of working on it, and some things are simply born on the set. But when the text is ready, they are impossible not to be noticed and impossible to be ignored. Luckily, fan fiction exists.

Thanks again @moremoveslessannouncements-blog.

[dicksloversub]

Actually what if I got kidnapped and broken ?

Imagine. I get abducted by a guy in a van. He's been stalking me for month he'd knew I'd be out on this particular path, secluded with no one to hear me scream. He'd stuff me in a van and blindfold and gag me. Ties me up too so I can't move a muscle. There'd be a radio right next to my head, playing some conditioning stuff or something.

"I'm a fucktoy for cok"

" I'm addicted to cock and sperm"

"I'm a cumdump and I love being a cumdump"

" I'm a fucking whore for big dicks"

" I love being groped, molested, violated and raped"

" I'm only useful for my holes to be filled with cum"

And so on, on loop, for the entirety of the drive. He'd stop the van at his place. He'd carry me and the radio without saying a word or making a sound, even. I'd try to kick and scream and every time it'd earn me a spank, each time harder to make me stop, and because I'm weak it would work. We enter his house and I hear 3 or 4 more people chatting in it. A way for me to get help maybe ?

"Oh, you've found a new slave ? Is it trained yet ?"

And that's when I start panicking. I'd thrash around trying to break free, only for the men to laugh at my pitiful attempt. My abductor throws me to the ground.

"Not yet, I just got it. I have a good feeling about it to be honest. It was just fooling around in these slutty shorts, shaking its ass for anyone who looked. Fucking slut." I get spanked again. His friends start grabbing at me, feeling me up, tearing my clothes off until I'm naked. Everyone cheers

"Fuck that's a nice body"

"Can't wait until you break it in, we're gonna have so much fun"

My kidnapper laughs.

"I'll get started right away then !" And with that I'm picked up again and thrown shortly after on a bed. I can hear a shuffle a glass, and a liquid pours down my throat through the gag forcing me to swallow. My wrists are tied to the bedframe and my legs are spread apart, my boycunt on full display. The man gets on the bed with me and puts a vibrator right up against my tdick. I try to struggle away from it, weaker this time because I can feel the effect of whatever beverage he gave me starting to be effective: my body feels hot and I'm beginning to be wet. I hate all of it, I hate myself for it, I'd want it to stop but that'd be the whole fun for him.

" Oh yeah keep struggling, you fucking bitch. It gets me harder. I'm gonna turn you into a cocksleeve and you'll thank me for it" and with that, he turns the vibrator to max.

I cum within five seconds. He holds the vibrator still against my cunt. I cum again. And a third time. And a fourth. Finally the torture device gets taken away. I'm panting like a dog, trying to get my breathing back. The man takes the opportunity to swap my gag to a mouth opener. He gives me another drink. I feel him shift around and then put his knees to either sides of my face. His crotch is right against my face, still clothed, and he starts grinding on me. I can feel is massive cock through his clothes. The radio is still playing that mind numbing loop.

The vibrator is put against me again, and the torture starts one more time, his dick all over my face and my tongue making a mess on his jeans, my drool all over my face. I scream and cry as I cum multiple times in a row.

"That was quick. I knew when I laid eyes on you that you were just an easy whore." The vibrator is turned to low on my hypersensitive tdick. " Because that's what you are aren't you ? An easy slut who loves being tortured. Don't fucking shake your head I saw all those posts you made on Tumblr. I saw all the filthy things you reblogged. You dreamt of this scenario you fucking fag. You should thank me for making them happen. Say thank you. I don't care that you're gagged, say thank you or I'm beating you up. You fucking love this." The toy gets taken away and I whine. The drug is making me horny to levels I didn't know were humanly possible. I want to cum again. I need to cum again.

" Now that you're prepared I'm going to break you. This is my favourite part. I'm gonna break you. I'm going to turn you into a mindless cocksleeve, unable to do anything but take cocks and loads after loads afters loads of cum. I'm gonna rape your holes and stuff you to the brim with cum, and I'm gonna brainwash you, and YOU" I hear his clothes fall to the floor.

" ARE" he gets on the bed

"GOING TO" I feel his cock at the entrance of my dripping wet cunt

"*FUCKING LOVE IT YOU WHORE*" and his cock is in me balls deep. He immediately starts pounding my cunt with all his strength, raping me into the mattress, bruising my cervix with his cock, slapping my ass like I'm a cheap slut.

" You're nothing but a rapeslave I'm gonna make you into a fucking toy you hear me ? You feel how my cock is abusing you poor cunt ? You fucking love this you wouldn't be so wet for me otherwise. Can you even hear yourself, you pathetic slut ? You're moaning. You're moaning on my bitch breaker, massive, juicy rapist cock. You're getting pleasure from getting raped you're fucking pathetic. You wanted this so fucking bad. Keep moaning and screaming it makes me harder. That's it. That's it keep screaming. It feels good. You're feeling good from getting raped I fucking know you are. Keep feeling good. Give in. Give in into being a pathetic rape meat. Loose yourself in it. Stop worrying about morale or whatever. Cum on my cock all you want you slut. Cum on my rapist dick. I know you're close I can feel you spasm around me. You came ? You're pathetic. If I had known it was so easy to break you I wouldn't have bothered getting you to the bed. I'd have just let my buddies use you right there. You would have loved that, cumdump."

His movements become erratic. I've gone limp, too lost on the pleasure and the degrading and the mind fucking to do anything. I'm like an object in his hands. It feels too good, his dick hits all the right spots to make me see stars.

"I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum in your cunt. Fuck I haven't unloaded in 3 weeks in preparation for this. I'm gonna empty my balls into you. And I want you to see it."

He tears off the blindfold and directs my head towards my cunt, where his dick is still frenetically slapping against it.

And then he cums.

He shoots ropes after ropes after ropes afters ropes of cum into me. I orgasm just as he does, my eyes rolling back into the back of my head. He pulls out, slaps my cunt and with that, leaves the room with the door wide open. The radio is still playing the loop that has infiltrated my brain, and I pray that his buddies come by to use the brand new boy toy they've acquired.