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amimimi · 3 years

Text

reki and langa taking care of their drunk s/o

synopsis: headcanons about how reki and langa takes care of your drunk ass

pairings: langa x reader, reki x reader

warnings: underage drinking (drink responsibly pleath!), getting sick, drunk..ness, I use the word “sexy”

notes: school is beating my ass, so i wrote this just to lighten the mood. i want to have one out for joe and cherry tomorrow! and i also want to write one where you take care of them while they're drunk too! but omg pls drink responsibly tho! 😭 I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors!

REKI

PLS he'd be so stressed out

he's taken care of drunk friends before and didn't even bat an eye but when it's you, he's a lot more concerned because you're his bby <3

will probably laugh a bit at your antics and take cute pictures of you

but then you’d get sick and he starts freaking out and looking up common signs of alcohol poisoning njgksdkdhskf

so he’s closing up at dope with manager oka when he gets a call from your phone number

he’s a little worried when he picks up and it’s your friend that’s calling him, and not you

“where’s y/n? are they okay? why can’t they talk to me?” he spits out without even taking a breath

oka and him are standing outside the shop

oka has one hand on the grate as he stares hard at reki, obviously concerned

“oh they’re fine! we were gonna meet up with our other friends to go to a party, but they go too drunk. ” your friend tells reki breezily.

reki hears your voice in the background, tiny and slurred, and his heart squeezes

“yea, i’m talking to him right now!” he hears your friend say to you. “yea, he’s coming right now...you want me to what?”

“hey,” your friend says directly into the receiver, taking to reki now “y/n said they miss you and they wanted to know if you miss them back”

“yeah, i miss them a lot” reki answers easily, exchanging glances with manager oka, who’s still looking confused and concerned

“y/n, he said he misses you too...why are you crying again?” your friend sighs, and reki’s heart clenches in his chest. “yeah, just come pick them up...please. i’ll send you the address”

reki hangs up and looks up at manager oka, who’s waiting for an explanation

“could you please give me a ride?” reki begs him, clasping his hands out in front of him.

and of course, manager oka says yes

when they arrive outside your friend’s place, reki thanks manager oka for the ride

“are you sure you got everything from here?” oka asks slightly uneasy about the situation. all reki told him was that you needed to see him—urgently

reki fumbles to take off his seatbelt and opens the car door

“yeah! i’m fine! thank you very much!” he says frantically.

“okay, call me if you need anything” oka frowns.

when your friend opens the door for reki, he kicks his shoes off and immediately is like “where are they?”

he’s led into your friend’s bedroom, to see you laying on your friend’s bed, wearing a short dress

you're crying face first into a pillow, not even noticing when reki and your friend stepped in the room

“hey, look who came to rescue you!” your friend grins, stepping into the bedroom after reki.

you slowly look up and blink some tears away to see reki standing by the door, looking at you anxiously

“reki?” you hiccup, struggling to sit up only to fall back down with a squeak.

reki’s heart twists as he watches you, before rushing over to help you with open arms.

“i’m here, baby, i’m here” reki sits on the bed and he pulls you upright. you slump into his chest like a rag doll and rubs soothing circles into your back. “you are so dumb for this”

“am not!” you weakly protest into his chest, your voice muffled.

"are too" reki counters, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

" 'was an accident..." you murmur, nuzzling your face against his chest

"no it wasn't" your friend clicks their tongue as you groan.

reki thanks your friend for taking care of you and for calling him before taking you back to your place.

you live just two down blocks from your friend's place so reki doesn't see the harm in walking

he thinks it may even be good for you

reki gives your his dope sketch sweater because all you're wearing is that short halter dress

tries to walk with his arm wrapped around your waist for support, but you're sagging against him heavily

so he just gives your a piggyback ride the rest of the way home

"oh my god, you're not wearing a hoodie right now..." you slur into his shoulder

"yeah, because i gave it to you" he hoists you higher up on his back and you giggle

“oh yeah,” you say.

you’re silent for a bit, before you lift your head off from reki’s shoulder and to reki’s horror, shout “y’all! this man gave me his hoodie! i think he gotta crush on me!😩🙈”

“shhh!!” reki hisses, pinching your thigh, which only makes you shriek. “people are trying to sleep! who are you even talking to??”

“the audience!” you announce, your voice booming through the empty street. reki rolls his eyes, not even wanting try arguing with you

“okay, okay just shut up please”

“you’re embarrassed because i told the audience that you gave your hoodie”

“okay then, tell the audience how you were crying for me to come see you”

“i...don’t recall that”

when you both finally make it to your home, you’ve quiet downed a little and reki is slightly relived/unsettled

he’s carrying you to your room until your tighten your grip around his neck and whimper “reki, i don’t feel good...”

reki bolts to the bathroom before placing you in front of the toilet just in time for you to get sick

he isn’t grossed out (he has three little sisters and he’s taken care of them when they’ve been sick) but he is shaken up

reki holds your hair back with one hand and alternates between rubbing your back and supporting you forehead with another—ALL WHILE scolding you for drinking so much dhjdjdbdjd

“you need to drink more responsibly! you shouldn’t of even be drinking! you’re underaged! oh my god, what did you even drink? how much did you drink?”

he can’t help it, he’s so worried for you

he’ll stop scolding you if you start crying tho, like how can he be upset at that?

wipes your mouth and kisses your temple before asking if your feeling better

when you say yes, he holds you up by your shoulders as you brush your teeth and rinse your mouth

he does your skin routine for you as best as he can (you have so many steps, it’s ungodly)

reki changes you into something more comfortable for bed and orders you to drink a glass of water

you’re so out of it that you comply, reluctantly of course

reki sits beside on you on your bed as you look at him glumly while you sip from the glass of water

“ahh, don’t give me those eyes. i’m making sure you don’t prune up” he pouts back at you, smoothing one of your eyebrows down with his thumb.

when you finish your water, he takes the glass for you and sets it your bedside table

“you have painkillers right? you’re gonna need them tomorrow morning” reki sighs as takes his jeans off to slip into bed with you

“in my drawer...” you murmur, your eyes half shut as you lay on your side. “are you gonna go?”

reki folds his jeans and places them on your desk, before walking back over to you

“nope, i gotta watch you for the night” he smiles softly at you and you give a shaky sigh of relief that makes reki’s heart burst

“it’ll be like a sleepover” reki says, as he slips next to you and turns on his side to face you

“a sexy sleepover” you nod, and reki frowns

“no...”

“...yes”

“you’re drunk”

“—in love, as our dear Beyoncé puts it” you slur, slightly grinning. reki doesn’t reply, staring at you disapprovingly, and you croak out— “we be all night! looooveeee—”

reki grabs your face with one hand, looking somewhere between horrified and amused

“i can’t stand you, right now” reki’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter

“but you’re already laying down—”

“enough, enough! roll over!” reki hisses, he points in the opposite direction with his finger

you giggle but comply

you feel reki’s hands wrap around your waist as he snuggled up from behind, spooning you

“i promise you, you won’t be laughing in the morning” he whispers into your ear as you begin to drift off

LANGA

just one big “?”

googling “how to take care of drunk person” with one hand with his other arm wrapped around your waist

alternates between confused and concerned

if you get sick, langa will actually call an ambulance—you have to tell him that you’re fine and even then he’s reluctant

you, langa, and reki all went to a party after S

you and reki are kinda amped, but langa isn’t enjoying himself all that much

people shouting across the room, shoving into him, the smell of alcohol—it’s all too much for him

so he’s like “ mkay, i’m out 🚶”

so he makes sure reki stays with you before walking to an isolated corner in the backyard to get some air

it hasn’t even been 30 minutes when you and reki stumble over to where he sits, arms wrapped around each other’s necks and giggling

langa watches the both of you stagger up to him with weary eyes, he already KNOWS that his night is gonna get stranger

“your darling, y/n, is drunk” reki announces, trying to keep a straight face

“reki is too!” you protest, stepping on reki’s foot causing him to yelp.

langa. exe has crashed

he realizes that he has to take care of the both of you,,,and he has no clue how

langa sits up from the planter he was sitting on and grabs both of your arms

“we’re going home” he says flatly, earning whines from both you and reki

langa drags you both to the front yard, as the both of you struggle in his grasp

“langaaa~ we didn’t even get to dance!” you whine, trying to break free from langa’s grasp

“langa, man, the party literally just started—” reki protests, struggling to get langa to let go of his arm. “holy hell, you’re strong”

“yea...it’s kinda hot” you murmur, slumping toward langa, who continues to drag you through the front door and onto the lawn. “langa, you’re so strong and hot, thank you for dating me”

when he’s dragged you both onto the sidewalk, he looks both ways down the street before asking “who lives closest to here?”

all of sudden, reki pitches forward to be sick

“langa! he’s dying, do something!” you wail, beginning to cry.

langa grips the back of reki’s hoodie to keep him from falling face forward

“okay” langa sighs as you drunkenly sob into his chest and reki moans, barely supporting himself. “i’m calling an adult”

he calls hiromi and begs him to come pick all three of you up

the three of you wait, sitting on the curb

langa is sitting between you and reki, an arm wrapped around you as you murmur nonsense into his chest and a hand clasped on reki’s shoulder who’s seeming a bit more lucid

“i promise you i’m fine! i get drunk quick but it fades away! let’s go back in!” reki pleads, earning a frown from langa

“y/n is still drunk, and you should probably go home” he looks down at you with sad eyes when you whimper against his chest. “i shouldn’t have let them drink”

hiromi brings the company car, shouting at the three of you as langa loads you and reki into car

hiromi is mad as hell but he still gets out to help langa buckle you in

langa offers for reki to come over to his house so he can monitor both

but hiromi grudgingly offers to watch reki because he knows there is no way langa can take care of you both

so hiromi drops you and langa off, telling him to call him if anything happens

langa carries you bridal style in his room and sits down on his bed with you in his lap

you blink up at him sleepily at him, holding onto his shoulders for support

“i don’t think you should’ve been drinking” he whispers, steadying you with his hands on your waist

“i don’t think i should have either” you murmur, before smushing your face into his neck. “i don’t wanna be drunk anymore, how do i stop?”

you sound close to crying and langa feels his stomach twist with panic because fuck, he doesn’t know either

he holds you against his chest with one arm and hastily whips out his phone, googling “how to stop being drunk”

cut him some slack y’all, he’s TRYING

he sees a “cold shower”, “plenty of sleep”, and “hydration” in the top results

sports mode langa: activated

carries you into the bathroom to give you a cold shower, but then you abruptly get sick and langa is like “!!?!!$!!??”

like reki, he’s gonna hold your hair and pat your back, but he’s too shook to scold you

says strange, earnest things like “you’re doing great!” and “you’re being very brave, i’m proud of you!”

unlike reki though, he’s slightly grossed out about by v*mit but he continues to be a dutiful boyfriend

waits until your done and you slump back against him, half asleep.

he decides the shower isn’t a GREAT idea with you being this groggy

langa isn’t letting you move an INCH

brushes your teeth for you—like he makes you open your mouth and gently brushes along your teeth

carries you to bed (he likes carrying you, he isn’t gonna lie)

he gives you one of his long sleeves to wear to bed and helps you out your clothes

langa holds a water bottle up to you lips and even tips your head back gently sjduslsjxjisej he’s so <333

his bed is pretty small and he’s pretty lanky, so he tucks you in, making sure you sleep on your side

he kneels on the floor beside you, his upper body resting on his bed and his face right next yours

langa holds your hand and watches you as you struggle to stay awake

“i’m sorry” you croak and langa kisses your finger

“don’t be sorry, it happens” he assures you quietly, his face slightly softening.

you blink bearily as you take in langa’s face, glowing in the moonlight shining through is window

“you’re so pretty” you murmur, weakly gripping his fingers. “i wish you could see yourself right now”

langa softly smiles at you as drift off

he watches you the whole night as you sleep, making sure you don’t skip a breath

notes: i’m writing one for joe and cherry and i’m gonna post that real soon!

edit: here it is!

#sk8 the infinty #reki x reader #langa x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #reki kyan x reader #langa hasegawa x reader #tw alcohol #drinking

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whimperwoods · 3 years

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Oswin - Bedtime

Part 7! Oswin Greystone is a wizard, a con man, and, now, a warlock’s pet. It’s been several hours since he last begged. He only hopes it doesn’t make things worse. As much as he has the energy to hope.

tw: pet whump, tw: non-sexual nudity, tw: humiliation, tw: whumper is a policeman/city guard captain, tw: gags, tw: choking mention, tw: ptsd (not-post though? idk), tw: literal boot-licking, tw: threats, tw: strangulation mention, tw: death threats, tw: animalization

There’s a masterpost now!

Taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @starnight-whump

****

Oswin hadn’t known how much he actually appreciated the noise of the other guards until it was gone. They had been coming in and out downstairs, laughing and joking, taking time to spar with each other, voices and the clank of armor and the clack of wooden training swords all drifting up the stairs toward him and his master, and he hadn’t even thought to appreciate it.

Now, it was quiet in the building, and he found himself shaking again, instinctively pressing himself harder to the ground.

I need you coherent while I’m alone on the evening shift. That was what his master had said last night. The other guards could wait to be called on in the daylight, could take off time between their assigned rounds, could hang out loud between shifts, but now - now it was night and things were dangerous, and he couldn’t help thinking that nowhere was as dangerous as here.

His master reached toward him from the chair and he flinched away, only to be caught by the back of the collar, his master’s fingers brushing against the burn mark on the back of his neck and making him cry out, the sound cut off abruptly as his master wrenched him upward, pulling him onto his knees by the collar.

Oswin straightened his back and pressed up against the seat of the chair with his arms to help hold his head higher, gasping in precious air as his master’s grip loosened.

Then the hand gripped his chin and forced him to meet his master’s eyes. His stomach squirmed, but he forced himself not to look away, even as his eyes started to tear up again, of their own accord.

“I’ll tell you when to be afraid of me, boy. Now you’ll have to be gagged, for the trouble.”

Oswin whimpered, unable to stop himself.

A vicious tug on his hair was followed by a motion to backhand him across the face, but at the last moment, his master pulled the blow, another warning, like the missed kick, earlier. He’d thought about it, since then. Thought about how to say thank you.

He’d thought he’d be on the ground, but he adjusted, ducking his head to nuzzle against the side of the man’s knee instead of bowing over his foot again, and whined softly, hoping his master would understand it as gratitude for - gods, it wasn’t even lenience, was it? It was only a pulled blow, meant to scare him, and the only reason it had been pulled was that his master didn’t want him dead, didn’t want one more drip of blood from his nose to be his last. But he was stronger than that, now, if only barely. He was healing. And if he played his cards right, maybe he could keep healing.

He gave the man’s knee a second nudge with the side of his face, this time humming to make sure there was some kind of positive noise, and the captain snorted.

A rough hand petted through his hair again, and the man’s voice sounded warmer when he spoke. “Enough. Open your mouth.”

Oswin’s entire body shook, the memory of choking around the gag suddenly real and impossible. His throat threatened to close up, and his breaths shortened, but his mouth opened instinctively to take in more air, and his master was somehow, impossibly, unbearably, already holding the gag. He thrust the bar in between Oswin’s teeth and started buckling the back, his strong hands forcing Oswin’s head down against his knee hard enough that he could feel his master’s kneecap digging into his forehead.

When his master released him, he raised his head but stayed still, mind reeling. He forced himself to breathe, concentrated on breathing, still clinging desperately to the seat of the chair, still hunched awkwardly with his head bowed low over his master’s knees.

As he got a grip on himself, he realized his master was petting his hair again, a little more gently this time. “There you go,” he said softly, “You’re ready to be a good boy again, I can tell.”

Oswin closed his eyes and tried to relax, laying his cheek against his master’s thigh, just a little above the knee, where it was softer and not so bony. Maybe if he seemed relaxed, he would be allowed to keep breathing. In through his nose. Out through his nose. Not too fast. Not too slow. Breathing. He was still breathing. It was ok. He was still breathing.

His master actually laughed. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” he asked, but his hand was still gentle in Oswin’s hair. He shouldn’t respond, shouldn’t make it go from joke to more punishment, but some part of him was so relieved to hear his master happy that he could almost cry, and he nuzzled against the captain’s thigh with his nose, still keeping quiet.

His master’s hand swept gently through his hair one more time before the man shoved Oswin away from him, firmly but without the strength Oswin knew he had.

“Come on, pet. Time for dinner.” He snorted, half chuckle. “Mine, anyway. But you had lunch. We’ll see if you do better tomorrow.”

Oswin’s mind stayed thoroughly wrapped up in breathing, in through his nose, out through his nose, keeping his throat and sinuses as open as he could, breathing in, breathing out, not allowed to remember almost dying, holding the thought at bay, at arm’s length, only breathing, only allowed to breathe, and somehow he was down the stairs. Somehow he was kneeling beside his master, too in his own head to notice the smell of his master’s dinner or the growling of his stomach. Somehow, he was climbing the stairs again. Somehow kneeling beside his master as the man looked at a map of the town. Somehow still moving, still following orders.

He thought about breathing.

His master was speaking to him, and he realized with a start that he hadn’t been listening.

The Captain laughed. “That’s right, there’s some proper gratitude. You’ll still be chained, of course, but it’ll be softer up there. And you can keep my feet warm, if it comes to it.”

Oswin didn’t know what his master was talking about, but he made a concentrated effort to pay more attention, to listen when his master spoke, to notice the orders he was following instead of just trailing along.

He let his master shackle him to the foot of the bed, climbed tentatively up onto it when his master gestured, curled in on himself with his eyes still on his master’s face, but then - then his master was stepping away, leaving him there, moving to change into his sleeping clothes, and the only thing more frightening than having a gag in his mouth was having a gag in his mouth and his master clear on the other side of the room, or even worse, asleep and not watching to remove the gag if Oswin choked again.

Making a muffled noise through the gag, he flung himself off the bed and crawled forward, prostrating himself at his master’s feet as the man stopped in surprise.

“Pleathee, Mathhter,” he managed through the gag, “Pleathe, I cannn. I cannn bleathe. Pleathe.”

He couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t bear to see his master’s face. He crawled forward still farther, hunching over to press his forehead to the top of his master’s foot.

“Pleathe, I cannnn.”

His master’s voice was cold and measured, which was at least better than an immediate flash of rage. “So you want your gag out,” he said, “After I specifically rewarded you. That’s not enough for you.”

Oswin’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t think of a better way to ask, a better way to beg, but even without falling, the tears threatened to make his throat thicken, his nose close up, to make him choke again, and all he could do was cry out more loudly while he still had breath.

“Pleathe, mathhhher. Pleathe.”

“Raise your head up.”

The voice was still cold as ice, and Oswin’s entire body trembled as he followed instructions.

For a moment, his master held Oswin’s head in his hands, watching the half-panicked breaths through his nose, the tears glinting in his eyes, taking it all in.

Then he unbuckled the gag and pulled it out of Oswin’s mouth. The moment his mouth was freed, Oswin found himself collapsing back to the ground, sobbing with his forehead pressed to the ground in front of his master’s feet, gasping and panting and managing only garbled, desperate “thank you”s in gratitude.

His master let him weep, let him pant and sob and humiliate himself, but he could feel the man’s stiffness even through his own relief, could feel tension in his stance and cold radiating from him.

When Oswin finally quieted, his master spoke again, that same ice in his voice. “Kiss my feet, wizard. I’m not sure you’re grateful enough, yet.”

Oswin complied, too wrung out with crying and fear even to hesitate. He pressed a kiss to the top of the well-kept leather of one foot, and was halfway to the other when his master snapped his fingers, stopping him. Oswin looked up, noting the way his master’s face was still strangely implacable, neither angry nor pleased, a mystery.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, calmly, and this time Oswin could hear the sizzle in it, could hear anger threatening to burst into flame. “Lick it. I want my boots clean enough to pass inspection with the king, before I let you go to sleep. I’m going to stand right here until you finish, and if you make me wait until I’m tired, you’ll be wearing that gag to bed if it kills you. Am I clear?”

Oswin didn’t try to answer, didn’t dare nod, didn’t know how else to say yes. Part of him knew that if he did this, there was no going back. The other part of him was already moving.

His master’s boots were mostly clean-ish already, kept polished as befitted his station, and he had been inside all day, but Oswin could still taste dirt and filth as his tongue swiped over the leather, his mouth already starting to go dry from dust and terror.

He focused on his breathing again as he continued, his mind squirming away from all the thoughts he couldn’t bear thinking, the thoughts that weren’t his task, his breathing. He wasn’t blushing, and passively, for a moment, he noted that that was strange. But then he had control of his mind again, control of his own focus. He was breathing. He was breathing. He was allowed to breathe, and this was the cost. He could only think about being allowed to breathe.

By the end he was barely on his hands and knees, barely able to keep going as his whole body shook. His mouth was dry. It was so dry. He kept having to stop, to swallow what dirt he could and force what moisture he could, but he kept his head down, kept his eyes focused on his master’s boots, tried not to look hesitant, not to look disobedient, gods, he couldn’t wear the gag again, he had to do this, he had to do this, he was still breathing.

Finally, he’d covered every inch of the leather, done everything he could, and he was going to stop breathing again if he couldn’t be finished, was going to have his throat close up on him from dryness and - and.

He pressed his forehead to his master’s boot again, one last silent plea before he crawled slightly backward, away.

He could feel his master’s eyes on him, on him and not on the boots at all, and he tried not to squirm under that gaze, not to shrink farther toward the ground or try to evade.

Finally, his master started moving, walking away without a word to him, and then sat on the side of the bed and took his boots off, looking thoughtfully at them while Oswin tried not to move, tried not to look afraid when he wasn’t allowed to be, tried not to look like he was trying to be more pathetic than he was, tried to keep breathing.

“You can have a drink of water,” his master said after a moment, “But you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Oswin was exhausted, half dazed, and he couldn’t work out how to answer as a dog, could barely work out how to answer as a human. “Yes, master,” he whispered. And then - “Thank you, master.”

He didn’t have the energy, when his master placed a bowl of water on the floor, to wonder when he’d brought it up here, how long he’d been planning this. He just crawled forward and drank from it, right there beside his master’s bed, lowering his head all the way into the bowl to drink awkwardly from it and trying to think only of the relief of cleaning his mouth out, of wetting his throat, of breathing easier, of feeling less like he might gag.

He drank what he could and then pulled away, certain of one thing and one thing only. When he was rested, he could think of getting away again. For now, he could make sure his master didn’t make anything worse.

He pressed his forehead to each of his master’s stocking feet in turn, and stilled without moving away when the man’s hand reached for him, tipping his chin up so that he had to look into those cold brown eyes.

“You’re pathetic,” the man said, his voice half growl, half disdain.

Oswin knew what answer was wanted. “Yes, master.” It was almost a whisper, but he knew the man would hear, knew how hard he was listening.

“If you make me break you, I will.”

“Yes, master.”

“Anything you do for me, I will ask of you again,” he continued, voice growing quieter, more thoughtful. He patted Oswin on the side of the face, “Remember that before you pretend to be more broken than you are. I don’t like playing games.”

“I understand, master.”

The man rose to his feet again. “Sleep on the floor. And if you make a sound after I so kindly removed that gag for you, I will strangle you until you die under my fingers and then I will make you wear the gag again when he returns you to me.”

The Captain didn’t even look back as he made the threat, moving steadily back to his chest of drawers to get his nightshirt.

“Yes master,” Oswin answered, more loudly, so that it would carry all the way to his master’s ears, hoping he wasn’t about to die for it, “I understand.”

His master’s only answer was a short grunt, and then Oswin tucked himself away, halfway under the edge of the bed, his tongue falling silent. He had a lot to think about, but for now - for now his mind was as tired as his body, strung out and wrung dry.

He fell asleep quickly, his body curling protectively in on itself even in slumber.

#whump #pet whump #fantasy whump #d&d whump #dehumanization tw #gags tw #choking tw #threats tw #oswin series #anyway things are not gonna be this awful forever?#he's just not healed enough yet to really get to have and keep his brain all the time #he will be eventually #for now he's just holding on the best he can #they're playing 3d chess but he's too tired to keep track of it just now

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purplebunny0517 · 3 years

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hello, I COME BEGGING for trissefer and triss/philippa completed fic recs on ao3. i've asked so many people and hoping to hoard and read them like a hermit in my bed. Pleathe do help

LOL not bragging or anything but you should really check my dashboard for several works on Trissefer and Merihart. They are decent -- I think.

Here are some works I find very enjoyable to read because the way authors depict the characters suit what I have of them in my mind. Also they are most likely to be E rated cause I am a whore.

Merihart:

Bound by @sapphiresmoke NO WORDS ARE GOING TO BE ENOUGH TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST GO READ IT

La Douleur Exquise by SapphireSmoke this is actually Yenna/Triss/Philippa which is right up my alley dunno if it's yours but also SO DAMNED GOOD

Entanglement by Astrarian the best smut fic I've ever read and yes I'm talking about literally ever. Perfectly in character and sexy, what more can you ask for?

bowline by undermyskin so good it almost felt like the whole thing came directly from the books. 10/10 would definitely do it again.

Deliverance by waywarddreamer check out their Trissefer works too (so I won't have to type again)

Trissefer:

Full disclosure ahead: I abosolutely loath any "Triss paying back the debt of fucking 'her best friend's man' (by being fucked)" or "Triss totally deserves this because she did something bad". No. Nope. She is innocent and has never done anything wrong in her life whatsoever and no one can convince me otherwise. Feel free to find something of this genre on your own because this shit does not sit well with me.

Also no sub! or bottom!Yennefer for me. Over my dead body.

(The only one Triss is allowed to top is Keira and that is a huge "maybe")

the Debt by SapphireSmoke seriously all of their (I can't find preferred pronons on any page so I don't want to assume) works across many fandoms are good go check them all out

Beautiful Things by OneofWebs I know there are probably many (not enough) post "threesome" Trissefer fics but I do like this one a lot

Other waywarddreamer's fics like I have mentioned above

That's all that I recommend. Feel free to ask for others' and enjoy your hoard reading!

#fic rec #fanfic rec #the witcher #trissefer #merihart

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iwaasfairy · 3 years

Note

HORNY BRAIN DUMP

( ꒪,⌓꒪) you ever just crave and want balls in your mouf? I can’t stop thinking about meian’s big, fat, heavy, juicy n bouncy baby breeding balls. I just know that they’re nice, warm and soft. Wanna crawl up in between his muscled, toned thighs and give his pretty balls a nice suck. Doesn’t matter when or where, I will immediately and obediently get on my knees and open wide to be his personal cock mouth warmer. ALSO MIGHT HAVE AN ORAL FIXATION FOR BEG BEEFY MAN TIDDIES?¿ I just am so tempted,, I am looking disrespectfully at iwa/bo/meian’s their wide chests and I- I would just like to suck on one, sir. (•́ ॣ·̫ ॣ•̀,)՞ all i ask is to be suffocated by your beg himbo man tiddies pleath 🥺🥺 a place to lie and rest my head upon. A nice firm, beg chest to lull me into a deep, peaceful slumber- my pillow? is for me?? Idk madame, something about suckin on tiddie or sum tasty testies...I could fall asleep right after w that 🤚

AHAHAKAJAK GOOD MORNING FAIRYY!! I hope that you’re doing well; both mentally and physically!! Make sure to drink water, eats foods, take breaks and to take deep breathes throughout the day :) I hope that you have a good rest of your morning/day/week ━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ(っ˘зʕ•̫͡•ʔ mwa mwa ! -🐰

,, 🐰 nonnie,, ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ wHAT PROMPTED YOU TO ATTACK LIKE THIS??? SDhfesireoz what wAS THE REASoN fkhehhhobfk omFFGG answer is yes. ye. yes i do. i just know he’s got fat fucking breeder balls anHGSDUgy goDDDDTuegrzy i’m like :handsinhead: as we speak this fucking hurts me so good ohh my fUCKKIDbH shit. wanna have meian’s balls in mouth, suck on them for hours. wanna have his thick cock right in my face and suck on that too :(((( my head hurts

alsO YES YES MAN tIDDIES!!! PERFECT PILLOWS!! they are so cushiony and nice to sleep on, to stay warm and in their arms and just /(ｉДｉ)/ wanna place hickeys all over them and suck on them until he tells me to cut it out bc it’s too sensitive gRRRDjffhuehozu why do i get to wake up to horny thoughts like this,, but also like never stOp DEAR FUCKJHDFHO ♡♡

#🐰 nonnie #thank you so much sweet angel!!#this is so very thoughtful and sweet; i'll try to stay hydrated/fed #you too please!! take care of yourself and your body #ilyyyy!! have a good day #thIS IS SO SWEEETTTHDBFi ugh #honey mail

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redrabbitspod · 4 years

Note

andrew, please, i’m begging you, hear me out— a crop top, loose bouncy curls, shorts, eyeliner, rings and necklaces.. pleathe sir,,,,,, i am starving and begging you to serve some looks,,,

I mean this in the most sincere way possible:

you are not ready for all of this. -A

#thelonlierversionofyou #rr answers 2 #andrew answers 2 #and you will never see it

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thalergetic · 3 years

Text

everybody pleathe manifest good vibes for me so i can finish and edit the chapter before going to work tomorrow.... am begging

#personal #exes au #normally it wouldn’t be this dire but i spent so much time this week doing calc homework and studying for my midterm that #i haven’t had as much time to write :(#don’t get me wrong the chapter rn is still hovering at 13k so it’s gonna be long no matter what but. afwaid❤️#between my fragile emotional state and my chapter 3 curse i’m literally about to post the ch tomorrow like 🥺please clap🥺

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vehcments · 4 years

Text

╰ * ◞ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍, got blood on my hands, don’t you understand ? i’m a wanted man .

tw : hit & run mention + child abandonment .

* rosa from tik tok vc * zude come here . you wanna read my intro ? i fuckin knew it zude ! introducing the god of romanticizing the rich & born from hyperfixations of villains carrying my favorite shows on their backs . i’m figuring him out as we go , so pleath be soft w us . i’m tokyo , using est though i wouldn’t take it too seriously since quarantine has my schedule in a disarray , nineteen & using femme pronouns . if u wanna plot just click that ♡ & i’ll come bother within a moments notice ! :’)

╰ * ◞ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 ; they didn't know it when they turned me loose, i shot the sheriff & i slipped the noose .

full name : luciano aleksei suaréz .

nicknames : lucky , luci ( by family primarily ) .

gender identity : cismale , he & him .

sexual orientation : bats eyelashes, blank stare .

date of birth : october 31st .

zodiac sign : scorpio .

current age : twenty one .

hometown : brooklyn , ny .

nationality : american .

ethnicity : mexican , iranian & undistinguished european .

languages spoken : english , spanish & ukranian .

occupation : mechanic at a local autoparts center .

education : incoming junior at cape coral & of the men’s soccer team .

weight : 84kg , 186 lbs .

height : 1.87m , 6′2″ .

the rest of his stats ( family, moral alignment, mbti, virtues & vices, etc ) may be found here !

╰ * ◞ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄(S) ; the law ain't never been a friend of mine, i would kill again to keep from doing time , you should never trust my kind .

monster — they are either half human or not human at all & usually provoke fear & panic .

reluctant monster — the reluctant monster usually has no idea that they’re a monster at all. they are often a member of a species that traditionally does nasty things to people, but that is not in their own personal nature .

╰ * ◞ 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 ; if you ask me to change, i don't know if i can . i'll always be who i am , i’m a wanted man .

the last of the suaréz clan & one who’s completed the trio of bastard children. fed with the quaint desperation of a fallen star begging to find something to live for. but this one turns out just as faulty, if not more inferior than the last two. lucky was seven years old when his mother finally had enough. it wasn’t the first or even the last humiliation she put to him, but it might’ve been the worst. because he hadn’t been taken from her. she’d tried to surrender him. it wasn’t as if some concerned neighbor had called child services. not like it was a tragic news story of a mother who died in a car crash. not like someone had noticed that her little boy couldn’t form a proper sentence, that his clothes were filled with holes, that his ribs poked from underneath, that he fell asleep anywhere & everywhere far too easily. no one seemed to see the bruises on his throat & pelvis. or the strange men that came & went at all hours from her apartment. she left him at the nearest station in the middle of the night. left him like a box of puppies she couldn’t afford to keep. she might’ve told him that this was for the best. wasn’t until the early hours that he’d been moved to portland to live with his older sibling & begrudging father ( another name on his taxes served as a motivational purpose ) .

he’s best described by the element of fire : passionate, impulsive, could change on a whim, violent, temperamental & when not contained can burn wild. when everyone else is running, keeping secrets, afraid of drama, afraid of pain & afraid of the bad in the world, he takes it head on. forces the pain on others as well because the pain is inevitable. he would choose it all again because he believes in no regrets. he is fire & fire burns absolutely. there is no hiding & there’s no secretive lure that lucky has attained to gain what he wants. rather, if you can believe it, honesty is a virtue & he pays it well. a wolf in sheep’s clothing is never a facade he’s sought out. no, you see him coming. in the morning rays that slice across bronze hues & the pearl light of the moon that reflects them into a ghastly green.

the reason behind such a cruel physique isn’t entirely due to a glum past. no, in fact anyone who’d try to use their misfortunes as an excuse during mandatory therapy sessions were seen as pathetic in his eyes. rather, it’s the likes of one particular night that’s left him unhinged. no longer the class riot, known to play harmless tricks & still feel the need to apologize straight after . the echoing crunch of someone slamming into your windshield & rolling below your wheels is enough to leave your psyche maimed ; vulnerable for the taking, though not without a fight. that much is true. the way you shake as you glance toward the passengers seat, a friend --- more or less --- as inebriated as you are blinking back to reality ( wc ! ) . you both make it back to your respective homes but not before your sibling lets you in to avoid waking your father. you both say nothing. but they know you’ve done something ( wc ! ) . months pass & you’re invited to attend the most prestigious university in the state. looks are certainly not everything you attain. it’s a pain to know that you’ve got to share a room with someone, though. what’s that stupid expression ? money doesn’t grow on trees. splitting the rent seems fair, as long as they don’t ask questions ( wc ! ) .

#* ❪ 🔪 ❫ ﹕ 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀. / details.#a mix of christian & lu ? true .#capecoral:intro #ya'll : i would die for u .#lucky : u will .

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cainov · 5 years

Text

nonbinary — ever hear people say CAIN ROMANOV looks a lot like BILL SKARSGARD? I think HE/THEY is about 24, so it doesn’t really work. The ANTIQUE BOOKSHOP OWNER has lived in Livingstone for TWENTY-FOUR YEARS. They can be RIGHTEOUS, but they can also be EVASIVE. I think CAIN might be A SHEEP. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

hi hello ... decided 2 bring in my son ... my soft boy ... my light ... some of u may know him from watershed but ! here he is again ! forced upon u all. please love him as i’m very fragile. ** i’ve changed parts of his bio so !! if u think u knew all the deetz ,,, but please be warned that it’s PRETTY HEAVY STUFF !!

pleathe LIKE this to PLOT and i promise i will not abandon u all like the other times usfdg

TW: CULT LIFE, HEROIN USAGE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE / ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ( PTSD, ANXIETY ). if i forgot anything PLEASE tell me !!

a e s t h e t i c s

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

general information !!

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): cock and ball torture, N/A

b.o.d. - feb 19th, fuckin pisces

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: 6′4″ jfc

hometown: livingstone, VT babey !!

sexuality: bi…? bi. yes. bi.

stats

biography !!

the eldest to vermont senator vaughn romanov and philanthropist adelaide romanov - they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent family. they’re the eldest of five.

with this background in mind - cain was taught to be the perfect citizen, the golden child, the all american ( willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants ) son. they were obedient, always staying within line.

several expectations for them included joining clubs at school such as model UN, debate, DECA, etc., sports (soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse - all throughout the years), student government (class president for at least one year), and maintaining a GPA status valedictorian-worthy.

was made to volunteer on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks - to show the community how much of a gem he was, a darling - a perfect member of society.

his eagerness to impress pleased his parents and thus, he never had a problem with them. life was good for them. they attended church on sundays, sometimes wednesdays, did everything as a family. dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

lived northside, not on the beach but close enough to it - a big fancy, seven bedroom, eight bath, two fireplaces and an expansive dining room - no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

his ~model citizen~ persona was just that - a persona, a charade. in the community and his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards to follow. to classmates - from elementary school all the way to college - cain was the worst.

they were arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when he felt like it, often unprovoked - they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applied to him because of his father and their family’s presence in the community. tattlers faced more consequences than cain ever did.

was the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at somebody if they had less than him. a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of his family. he was never physically violent, nor did he raise his voice - but that was what’s made it worse. cain spewed his classist bullshit with ease.

his best friends since childhood have been brooks hunter and michael green - a very troublesome trio based on their mutual love for power highs.

only redeeming quality back then was probably their protectiveness over his siblings - wasn’t the best person, but family was family.

went into political science + business to please their father, mainly - everything they’d been taught growing up was essentially to build them into a perfect little presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though didn’t participate in parties too often - known for keeping his composition even when others resorted to violence, because he never liked to leave a bad press image. this attitude was the same when it came to parties and other ... taboo subjects,

sometime during college, two important things happened.

the first one was that he became a middleman / broker / whatever you’d like to call it. wasn’t producing product, but wasn’t dealing it. was the middleman, the connection between producers and dealers. it was for fun - never for profit. very hush-hush.

the second is that he met earl and may meyers. they were fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive, and the older couple were immediately drawn to cain - and him to them, essentially. to this day he can’t tell you what about them had been so appealing. just, the air around them was something else entirely. some would probably call it unhinged, some would call it comforting. they were kind folks, very down to earth, very religious and warmhearted. they liked his name being cain a whole lot; told him that he reminded him of their late son.

it was the beginning of his senior year in college for cain - a few years after he’d gotten started in the drug business - the couple volunteered more and more at the same places that cain would, the same times, almost as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect, it was odd, but cain had never thought to suspect the elderly of anything ... deceiving. kept talking to them and it became a genuine friendship.

a few months into it, the couple started talking about the sin of wealth - god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth - only the worthiest souls - eventually they’d gotten into the rhythm of claiming cain was special. they could see he would be selected - see it in his aura, in their dreams - god personally speaking to to them, etc. etc.

it was ... oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism and disappointing god - even though it had felt nearly ridiculous - it seeped into his mind.

this was essentially the result of emotional manipulation over a period of time - cain unsuspecting, unwilling to believe that he could be manipulated - always so sure in himself.

earl and may told him that they were going to leave livingstone - that there were so many more who had the same ideals as them, that it was time to join them - that it was time to prepare. cain held off from it, at first - having just graduated.

he had so much in livingstone - loyal companions and a close-knit family, a blooming side-business and a long-term girlfriend and an engagement ring burning in his pocket. he was still the same boy - cruel without cause. but he’d found himself surrounded by others, anyway.

within a month of newfound freedom - cain had a change of heart. the third most important event in his life had happened.

it was an average day - june, hot enough that sweat stuck to your skin, but not hot enough that you weren’t glad for it. a family bbq the entire day - relatives from all around - cain had been cleaning up with his mother when, out of nowhere, she had broken down in sobs.

essentially - after a long ... discussion, cain learned that they were not his father’s son.

in a fit of petty anger towards the beginning of their marriage, adelaide had cheated on vaughn. the result was cain.

it was the sort of news that breaks a person. his entire life - he idolized his parents, done everything they’d ever expect of him - let them mold him into whatever they pleased. to find out that his mother - a woman who, he had previously believed, could never tell a lie in her life - was a liar, and that his father - the man he looked up to most as a child - didn’t share the same blood as him.

cain unraveled. that week. several altercations, both sober and drunk - landing in county jail overnight - only to disappear without notice on june 21st, 2018.

it was treated as a missing persons’ case, the first week or so - until it had been determined that cain left on his own accord, then it was dropped much to the dismay of his family.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

only earl and may knew where cain went - because they had left together, cain’s last minute decision. cain’s mistake. the fourth most important thing to happen to him.

only hours away from livingstone - on the border between new york and vermont and not nearly far away as cain would had liked - was the cult’s location. they wore white linens and cotton - never mixed, and technology had been abandoned. prayers and daily chores.

it felt ... natural, at first - for the first three months - it was grand, in the beginning, peaceful, mind-clearing. they treated him differently - as if he were something special, as if his birth was a gift - a sign from the heavens above. cain come to undo his past’s damage. a leader, perhaps. the longer he stayed - the more apparent it became that he wasn’t who they had long waited for.

once they began slipping up - the members became displeased with him and punishments occurred - sometimes once a week, sometimes multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but they can’t forget the hands. pulling, and tugging, and gripping, and begging - asking him to repent, please, repent - head held underwater, counting seconds until his vision goes out - pulled out gasping and sobbing. it repeats in their mind - each day blurring into one another.

once he started reacting violently - they found ways to subdue him.

heroin intake - little by little, everyday - enough to leave him in a high he wouldn’t remember - enough to burn a hole through his memory.

with memories becoming dimmer each day - cain managed to sneak paper and pencil into his ~living arrangement~ and he wrote everyday - wrote as much as he could remember about livingstone, about his family, about his life before. sometimes he couldn’t remember what he’d written previously.

when these were found - it had been the final straw. they had dragged him, kicking and screaming and mind-numbingly high into place - a twisted reenactment / retelling of the mark of cain and a brand of the mark burnt permanently into his skin right above his heart - forehead not an option due to difficulties fully subduing cain (he bit them).

left to die in the middle of woods afterwards, with nothing but his writing and the clothes on his back - cain shouldn’t had had the strength to go on - but they did. they didn’t know what day it was - really, what year it was - but cain got up and cain ran. and cain, obviously, survived.

it was pure luck that cain had run into a truck driver who wasn’t doubling as a murderer - one who took him to the hospital - who essentially, gave cain another chance to live. cain was found on june 21st, 2019.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

immediately reunited by his family - everything went very fast. he couldn’t recognize his youngest sibling, but couldn’t remember why he’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of his girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled.

put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - vaughn romanov makes his announcement that he’s running for the 2020 election the day after cain is found and brought home. they’re not expected to be alright within a few weeks of therapy - but cain feels restrained, in a way - confined to the role he’d always had to play. expected to up, and continue with life as if he hadn’t endured an extremely traumatizing year.

is essentially forced to stay in livingstone for the time being - but cain has taken a few things into his own hands. they’ll go to therapy, work on their recovery - but, having no further interest in what he’d gotten a degree in - has decidedly bought himself an antique bookshop off of the owner looking to retire, and has taken shelter in the apartment above it.

with their four cats, of course. his parents agreed - purely to give him the space to recover whilst keeping him close to them. if only he hadn’t found recovery to be most helpful in the form of pills - his old business now turned into a way for him to get what he believes will make him better.

personality !!

to clarify - cain is no longer the douchebag they once were. kind of .. learned to be a better person with his entire experience - mostly a lot of self-blaming that boils down to karma and deserving what happened to him.

he’d always been a pretty ... quiet, person - even with the massive ego - but now, cain’s ... quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic. distant and not much for parties - that never changed - but it’s more of a ... restrictive, distance, than one of comfort.

smokes weed but rarely drinks - as if it’d make a difference with the pills addiction he’s using to battle his heroin one.

like mentioned - they’ve got four cats. that’s their personality. had two of ‘em before he’d disappeared, and just got the other two probably ... yesterday, tbh. they’re named frank (big chungus when yelled - white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food.), shoelace (black-furred and missing an eye), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short, calico with bent ears).

probably has photos of their cats in his wallet.

parents help pay for the cost of owning the bookshop - though cain’s expected to fully take on the financial responsibility when he’s ‘well again’.

their memory is fucked. forgets a lot of things - short term, long term, it’s a struggle. managed to keep the notes they used to take back at the cult - so it helps, but not always. forgets dates, faces, names, events. he wakes up sometimes and doesn’t know where they are.

they don’t sleep a lot, regardless - night terrors came with his trauma, and in an attempt to avoid ‘em, they don’t really ... sleep. only a few hours each night because it gets so bad.

cain suffers from severe touch aversion. skin-to-skin contact of any sort is enough to send them into an intense panic attack. they wear leather gloves more often than not, in an attempt to combat it without hindering them too much. not the biggest fan of body contact in general, even with clothes - but it won’t send him into a panic like bare skin will. makes it obvious from the get-go that he doesn’t like physical contact if somebody gets too close.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like ... sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem.

they’re pretty blunt. won’t go out of their way to announce that they joined a cult, hence the disappearance - but won’t lie about their disappearance if the topic comes to it. cain doesn’t like delusions, doesn’t like secrets - doesn’t like unnecessary attention, either.

being said uh ... cain sort of hates the new division ? anything that resembles a cult, he instantly hates. hates the watershed app too.

being in town keeps cain anxious, because they’re aware they’ve wronged a good amount of people - but it’s hard to remember who, and what, and when, and why - and it’s just. an entire ordeal of figuring out how to ... redeem himself to multiple people.

screwed over a lot of people when they left ! from their plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend who they are, undeniably, still in love with - you can’t forget that feeling - to his friends.

isn’t ... aware that michael is in prison. isn’t aware that kieran is dead. hasn’t been told yet.

is high often ! says it’s just weed but ... it’s not !

hates cars and swimming and crowds - hates feeling trapped and will avoid it when possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

climbs trees when overwhelmed and needs a space to think - has a tall tree right outside of the window of his apartment, on the side opposite of the street if that makes sense ?? can be found there often. like - won’t leave a conversation to go climbin’ but. y’know.

feels the need to redeem themself to ... everybody, really. wants to avoid conflict and wants to be a better person - they’re trying really hard but not everybody believes them.

really .. wouldn’t be surprised if people from livingstone were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason - they don’t have the best track record anymore !

they’ve got a stutter that developed as a result of the trauma - their voice is damaged from screaming a lot. working on being less self-conscious about it, thinks there’s more important things to worry about. in general cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, generally unhealthy.

they can still definitely hold a conversation, and like i said they’re pretty…lowkey. soft, sort of. generally a quiet person and while they’re not the most social, they won’t be a direct asshole or anything. likes people! just…has low energy.

goes by he/they, doesn’t really care which one as he alternates pretty frequently.

very happy with being the owner of a bookshop - especially antique. feels more genuine than political science or whatever.

got really into the investigation of the cult he was part of - they got uncovered and arrested due to cain’s escape but there’s still branches out there - you could call him obsessed. willing to stick his nose where he shouldn’t, even though he really ... really shouldn’t.

wanted connections !!

so first and foremost - people who he’s grown up with his entire life. people he’s just. wronged. people who idolized him - people who envied him, who despised him, etc. etc.

would love ! a good amount of antagonistic connections because it fits the bill.

exes he’s dumped, old hookups, ex-friends, people he got into an argument with / fought before he disappeared last year.

ex-gf would be gr8 ! thanks ! will be holding american-idol-esque auditions.

any prominent families in livingstone that his family would know. family friends - family rivals. his siblings.

people he’s trying to redeem himself to - trying to prove his worth, that he’s better now. y’know.

old clients that he left in the dust !

people from his frat - people he used to go to the occasional party with.

people angry at cain, still. just. so mad. pissed completely.

some good ol’ reconnecting / reconciliation plots ! i’m a slut for slowburn friendships. enemies to friends.

people he used 2 bully.

wholesome shit, angst shit. i said slowburns but i love them. friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. anything.

no. hookups. please. only previous encounters. nothing in the present. for obvious reasons.

except MAYBE sexual tension but the kind that hurts. maybe a fun, casual sexting thing. they’ve got needs too.

people who just hate his dad b/c politicians suck !

i imagine a lot of conversations between him n other people start out ... aggressive, because they’re mad at him. :/

people who are soft for them ?? people who are hard on him ?? make his life difficult but also uwu him.

i’ll rly take anything !! just like this so i can slither in !!

#cult tw #drug addiction tw #drug abuse tw #abuse tw #heroin tw #mental illness tw #ptsd tw #livingintro

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