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#Then they whine about whining that is not supportive of their PoSiTiVe good moral whining
maipareshaan · 1 year
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Again i am sorry i acknowledge this is petty and i don't actually support but lol i love when heller proshippers get harrassed, i hope they get hate, i hope they get into a blocklist and i hope someone makes a anonhateblog for them again shsnsbbsbsvzgzdbb
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kendrixtermina · 2 years
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Talking Style by Enneagram Type
I hadn’t put these on tumblr & it occurred to me that I probably should  
1: ‚Teacher-like‘ – sermons, lecture, life advice, evaluation, criticism, moralizing, matter-of-fact, straightforward, improvement suggestions, detail corrections, admonishing, enforcing rules, Voice of Truth(TM), expressing visceral disgust or outrage at bad deeds, lots of „shoulds“ and „oughts“, reminding of obligations, „thats not right/fair“, ultimatums and yes/no questions, focus on coming up with clear plans of action – they also ask advice & feedback more than other types.
2: friendliness, effusiveness, flattery, complimenting, personal, establishing rapport, supporting, checking on you, comforting, sympathizing, pitching in, offers, virtue-signalling, emphasized emotionality sometimes to the point of theatrics, giving advice sometimes to the point of seeming a bit pushy or bossy with it, laments on yours or a third person’s behalf, postive reinforcement, second person language
3: confident, professional, smooth, efficient, goal-focussed; self-presentation, mentions archievements, sucess stories & activities, what theyve been doing recently, promoting, boasting, motivating, encouraging, extolling, „advertising/selling“, praising, pushy, impatience, appeals to common cultural symbols/emotional associations like movies, job stereotypes, celebrities etc., plans, actions, short & useful questions, future oriented language, encouraging action & movement
4: Lamenting, yearning, longing, extolling somethong they idealize, whining. „bitching“, Breathy voice, Ellipses or trailing off, disdainfully lambasting while drawing distinctions. („Not like those people“) Lots of adjectives. Poetic/affected/deliberate phrasing, flowery, larger than life language. Regrets & talk of shortcommings. Talks about self & own experience, personalizes& specifies. If you catch them in a good mood they can also be somewhat hyper and witty.
5: Content-focus. Detailed explanations. Definitions. Systematic and ‚sectioned‘. Brings up topics that may seem out of context. Either short noncomittal statements or long rambly "treatises". Tangents, run-on sentences, adverbs. Descriptive comparisons. Arguments appealing to rationality, objectivity or neutrality. Quotes & proverbs. Low volume, formal language, jargon, technical terms. Few pleasantries, says little unless some relevant topic comes up.
6: Warnings. Limiting Statements. Formal but warm. Appeals to realism & common sense, bringing lofty talk „back down to earth“. Lots and lots of precise questions. Troubleshoots, problem solves, rants, accuses, defends, blames, complaints as a bonding method. Second-guessing, self-deprecating and/or dark humor, disclaimers & qualifying statements, worst case scenarious, „...but what if…“ uncertain or tentative, carefully chosen words, bouncing off suggestions
7: fast talking, verbosity, anecdotes, storytelling, future plans, analogies, energetic. enthusiasm, excitability, positivity, light-heartedness, humor, criticizes by mocking, tries to engage the listeners, may try to impress, charm or entertain others with knowledge, skill or experience, scattered or jumping between topics. Can appear distracted or talk about themselves alot. Sing-song voice. Socratic dialogues. „Wowwww how amazing!!!“
8: Short, direct to-the-point and hammer-like. Certain, clear & firm tone. Commands. Imperatives. Snap judgements („What youre doing wrong is...“) Laying trips. Glib, quippy statements. Teasing Profanity. Debating. Arguing, defiance, „unmasking“/calling out , direct confronting, „below the belt“ shots. Military or wilderness related metaphors. Informative, factual, pragmatic. Sometimes quite jolly or unexpectedly sentimental.
9: pleasantries, respectful, considerate, dreamy, meandering, generalizing, vague aphorisms, recounts stories in a lot of detail, may wait for the others to speak first and sort of mirror, sypathize with & validate what you say, usually good listeners, may have to think a bit if asked their preferences. Some can be shy terse or monotonous in new situations or big groups, but grow more animated in a chill familiar envronment/ with trusted ppl, unneccesary apologies
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riverrrrunredd · 1 year
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Hello! You may remember me from AO3~
I want to ask you a few questions while giving you a few ideas~
The question is how are you able to make a Dark!Dick~? I might struggle to write him like that because I always envision him as the fun big brother~
The ideas I want to share with you~ While I already did that in the latest chapter of your NSFW art, I want to expand a little more~ Raven would be wearing a maid costume when serving the Batboys, having Dick as Slade's apprentice to capture Raven, having Raven in the mercy of libertine Batboys in a historical France (without the more messed up parts), or dark!Domestic DickRae, maybe with a crib nearby~
I hope you like these ideas~
This is the supply my inspiration needs right now, thank you! Let me just hand them over to my muse who is going to fuse them with more twisted energy and reconstruct them into more desirable form >:))
The question actually had me taken aback lol, I'm never the best author to begin with and I constantly struggle to churn out non-awkward sentences, so being asked for writing advice is new to me :)))
I reckon that you're placing Dick on too high of a pedestal, thus writing him being part of a vile, diabolical scheme (even when he only had one foot in it and doesn't actually play any imperative role) seems like a dishonorable thing to do. The only feasible tactic when it comes to molding a dubious character is to change your perceptive of them, they are human, they are breakable, they are susceptible to the effects of the drastic shift in their environments. You have problem visioning him as anything but the perfect ball of sunshine who help people get back on their feet like a good brother, and that's interfering with you being able to stain that image of him.
Dick has demons flying in his head and a scarred heart full of troubles (this is already established in the comic, it's canon so don't worry about making him OOC). Exploit this, use it as a setup for your plotline, have him listening to the voices in his mind in lieu of tuning them out, and the important thing is, let him sink. Don't bother yourself with trivial concerns like 'Is this becoming of him' or 'Nah this is way to beneath our golden boi', he has to descend into madness, that's the whole point of choosing the negative arc over the positive one and build a dark character.
And don't mistake dark with being cold, standoffish, desolate or having an angsty vocabulary and always whine about their misery, because, I'll be frank, that's how you write an epic edge lord, not a crime lord. That dark part isn't their core personality or their entire nature, it's only the result of having something inside them snapped and leaving behind a hollow space, followed by a warp of their psyche. Nothing else, though. In other words, their morals are looser and they are more willing to solve matters in a more extreme methods than most idealistic characters, but they aren't necessarily evil. They can be kind and caring without having to pretend, they can give motivational advice and hold you as you cry in your darkest moment, they can spare beggars some changes on a good day. But if they are crossed, all Hell broke loose, and they simply go Hannibal on the idiot dumb enough to do that.
I personally enjoy the concept of sweet, lovable devils. They cannot even be considered morally grey with the shit they have done, but when they are not bathed in blood, they are gentle and supportive and draw people towards them with their calm, reasonable personality. They are not masking, that's simply who they are.
They're trickier to pull off than the typical raging idiot who never stop wanting people to know how life was hard on them and they have no other choice, of course, since their actions always seem to be in conflict with their nature, and one wrong decision can ruin them for good. But I think they are interesting characters to construct as long as you know how to handle their story and psychology.
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fantasyinvader · 7 months
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That recent post really makes me think about Steve Ditko's view of anti-heroes.
Ditko believed in objectivism, where right and wrong were clearly defined with no grey area. That A is A. A hero's job was to be a role model, a peak that humanity should strive towards rather than accepting compromise. Ditko would even argue that no-kill rules, such as Batman's, were in fact more immoral than killing the bad guys because killing the bad guy would wipe a force of evil from the world whereas sparing them gives them the opportunity to commit more evil and harm more people in the future.
Yet, Ditko didn't support the rise of anti-heroes. Yeah, Mr. A may kill bad guys but he's not an anti-hero in Ditko's mind, he's meant to be that ideal Ditko believes people should strive towards. If a character tries to make themselves out to be a victim of society, that them doing bad wasn't their fault, Ditko instead believes in telling them to stop whining because, ultimately, it was their choice to do those acts which, in turn indicates a moral or mental weakness on their parts. With anti-heroes, you start saying that those failings are okay provided they are in the service of “the greater good” (is there an echo in here?). But by doing that, you've justified acts that would otherwise be condemned. You've made them acceptable.
I feel like this does sum up Edelgard's worst defenders. That to justify Edelgard's “greater good,” they'll in turn have to justify everything she does in pursuit of that greater good.
That her hiring a bandit with orders to kill her classmates can't be taken at face value because 1) it undermines the claim she's only targetting Rhea and the Church and 2) it goes against how people read her character. That when she lies and manipulates those around her, it's not cause for concern. Her using the demonic beasts isn't immoral, it's “smart” because she's using the resources available to her (I have literally seen this claim). That Remire village and the acts of TWSITD are not her actions specifically so they can't be used against her. That killing Dimitri is okay because “he's a rabid dog” and she shouldn't trust Claude “because she doesn't know where he's from.” That Hubert's secret police putting down rebellions is meant to keep order. That her relaunching the Church under her own control isn't bad as she's making “a religion without religion.” There's all the claims that she does give power to the people rather than her canonically centralizing it on herself, in addition to her immediately stepping down from the throne rather than spending most of her life ruling. Any worldbuilding that undermines her or paints those she kill in a positive light is to be avoided as lies, all while wishing for worldbuilding to make the Agarthans out to be less cartoonishly evil.
To say Edelgard is the good guy, I have to ignore the evil she does, ignore what her ends actually are (especially in the Japanese text altered by the translation), ignore the fact she's trying to manipulate me, ignore the worldbuilding, and ignore the statements of the devs themselves. I have to ignore pretty much everything in the game to take her at face value that she's really the good guy here, all while dehumanizing everyone who stands against her or writing off her victims as a necessary sacrifice. And the scary part is, there are people who do just that.
I'm not going to say Ditko was 100% right on his takes, but he probably did have a point there. It's like, when I read the Elric saga and understand that at the time of publication Elric was a protagonist...who was also evil. He wasn't a hero despite facing even worse people, and would tell you as much himself. But nowadays, you have the comics from France needing to make him even more evil, make him do things the original Elric wouldn't do, in order to get that same point across. Melnibone went from a gaudy place whose extravagence hid the sadistic nature of it's hedonistic people, went from that to being inspired by the cenobites from Hellraiser.
So what the hell happened? It's like society has lower moral standards because we started celebrating the anti-hero concept, and it's to the point people will cheer for a villain so long as they can latch onto some form of “greater good” in doing so. And as this happened, the heroes of old were looked down upon as being too simple, too naive, too unrelatable. That, like Lex Luthor, we find it impossible to believe that Superman could have all that power... and use it selflessly.
I mean, even with Houses look at the other leads. Dimitri becomes the Savior King who provides for his people after he goes through his character growth, Claude became more of a “pure good guy” in order to become the King of Unification rather than manipulator he was before that, while Byleth goes from being an amoral mercenary to someone who works to support every soul in Fodlan (though the translation turns this into them being the arbiter, or judge, of every soul). These, actually, go against Ditko's beliefs, showing it's possible to lead people to the light rather than just cutting down everyone deemed evil provided they show that they are willing to change.
But to some, these are all worse outcomes than Edelgard ruling over all of Fodlan, reshaping it based on her beliefs. Beliefs that they put into her mouth rather than her own words. That Edelgard can do evil acts provided that they aren't for her own ends, but the ends the player wants. That so long as she cuts down who they want her to and reshape Fodlan the way they believe in, they'll support her. Like they're Agarthans themselves, except that's not what happens, as Edelgard simply uses them in order to rule the way SHE wants. Not how Thales wants her to, not how the player wants her to, but the way she wants to.
So, really, the only way Edelgard can win is if the player supports her villainy. It's the player's choice to be the bad guy, believing society is the problem and therefore what they are doing is justified only to show their own moral and mental failings. And all of this is in denial of what actually happens, believing they are the good guys even as they support genocide.
Really, makes the player out to be no different from the Argarthans if you think about it. We should really call that sub “online Shambhala” or something.
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twopoppies · 2 years
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Those ideas about how Louis is different from H are because Louis’ marketing is better than some people realise. You’re talking about the “fuck the rich guy” with 50 million dollars who wears designer clothes, has a new phone each year (does anyone remember when he once had a Samsung sponsorship, for the bag, and never mentioned Samsung again?), and sometimes rents a private yacht for holidays, not to mention that he plays the same industry tricks to boost sales. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t judge him and if I had this money, I would be the same, too, I am no better than this. But he just picks and chooses how he likes people to see him: the sad underdog who always has so much to deal with who “didn’t know” about the band split and whines about it years after that instead of trying to tell people who he is and why should they follow his career. He knows just as many rich and famous people as H does, but he won’t mention them or talk about them publicly because this is not his not-like-other-millionaires persona.
So, I don’t like how you articulated this, because I don’t think Louis was “whining”, nor do I think he presents himself as “the sad underdog who always has so much to deal with”, but I think the overall point is accurate.
I’ve been saying for years that what we see is a curated image that Louis is presenting to the world. I do think being “the underdog” is helpful to him, but I don’t think he wants people to pity him—rather, it’s an image that creates a sense of a grassroots organization that galvanizes them, motivates them to participate, and allows them to feel close and connected to him. Louis seems to genuinely love and appreciate his fans. But it’s naive to think that he’s not aware of how much value this fervor and loyalty brings his brand, so of course there’s going to be some catering towards it.
Louis can be rich and famous and enjoy the luxuries and privilege that brings, while still wanting to make positive changes within the industry and have a strong sense of morals and goals about how he wants to use his influence and platform. I just wish people would stop the constant comparisons with Harry because their images and careers are completely different. Assuming that because Louis is doing things you like makes him “good”, is just as silly as assuming Harry is “bad” because you don’t like his image. These are both images created to sell an artist to the public. You can choose to support them or not, I just wish people were a little less gullible when it comes to this aspect.
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Did you read the OIDAC (organisation against Intolerance and Discrimination against Christians). I am analyzing it for a german podcast and also because i wanted to be open minded about stuff i maybe havent heard or didnt recognize so far. But i all i can say is i had a good laugh. The persecution of Christians is a joke (i am not even sure if you can call it persecution at all)
No, I hadn't heard of that one. I'm just quickly looking through some of their stuff and what little I've seen is quite obnoxious.
For example, they could be talking about real problems in countries such as Nigeria - e.g. the murder of Deborah Samuel - India, Indonesia, Pakistan and others, where Xians are actively harassed and even killed, rather than left alone. Unsurprisingly, this is often because of Islam.
Here's an entire page of real problems Xians in the world face. Almost none of it in Europe. I'm just mentally comparing what they're doing to what EXMNA - Ex-Muslims of North America - are doing. EXMNA have a worldwide persecution tracker. But these people are complaining about the plight of Xianity in some of the most privileged and free countries of all. Many of them Xian-majority. For now.
For example, they whine about secular intolerance...
... can be understood as a dynamic coming from the ideological agenda of secularism to marginalise and banish religion from the public sphere."
Basically, they don't get to inject their bullshit into public policy. Further:
More and more often, the principle of separation between church and state is mistakenly understood to require a separation between faith and politics, with the result that it is becoming less and less acceptable to base one’s political positions on religious convictions. [..]
Examples of secular intolerance include intolerance towards Christian moral teaching, and the removal of Christian symbols from public spaces.
No, the mistake is theirs. The reason they don’t get to inject not just their church but their “faith” into politics is so that they don’t end up being subjected to policy created by Muslims, Hindus or Scientologists injecting their “faith” into public policy.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Secularism
Religious minorities and non-religious citizens in a country tend to support political secularism while members of the majority religion tend to oppose it.
[..]
There are many principles that are associated with political secularism. It typically promotes legal equality between people of different religions, opposing a legal hierarchy on the basis of religious belief or lack of religious belief. It is also associated with a separation of church and state, considering these to be two distinct entities that should be treated separately. State supremacy is a secular principle that supports obedience to governmental law over religious law, while internal constraint is a secular principle that opposes governmental control over one's personal life. Under political secularism, the government can enforce how people act but not what they believe. Similarly, freedom of thought is supported by secularism. Order is supported by secularists, specifically in that one's beliefs should not be permitted to disturb the civil peace. Religious tolerance is supported both for people of other religions and a lack of piety demonstrated by members of one's own religion. Political secularism also supports reason as a virtue. Secularists also support freedom from religion as an extension to freedom of religion.
What monsters! /s
The artistic and private spheres exhibit both a lack of sensitivity to, or direct provocation of, religious sentiment. One example is a “blasphemous” art festival held in September 2021 in Naples, Italy. The festival claimed to promote freedom of expression against “religious censorship”. Most of the art seen at the festival was anti-clerical or anti-Catholic. The event was spons.ored by the municipality of Naples and the Ministry of Education and Culture. Images from the event’s website show statuettes of two halfnaked Virgin Marys, and a drawing of the image of Christ with an erection in front of a kneeling child.
The problem with the festival is not the content, but the fact it was spon.sored by the state. That part is - or appears to be - a legitimate complaint. But is exactly the same reason this...
Examples of secular intolerance include intolerance towards Christian moral teaching, and the removal of Christian symbols from public spaces.
.. is unreasonable.
Whether they like the content or not is as irrelevant as whether non-believers regard their scripture as superstitious fairytales. They can post or write about not liking it while others who want to engage with it can do so, just as Xians can engage with their nonsense while we can post or write about how nonsensical it is.
The entire point of secularism is like the liberal “color-blind” approach to law, employment, etc. You don’t get to elevate one belief over another. And you shouldn’t make a law unless you’d be comfortable living by that law no matter what position in society you occupied. Including another belief system. Or none.
There’s a distinct irony of them whining that secularism is being imposed upon them, given that secularism is the basis by which they get to complain about other people’s beliefs being imposed onto them. They’re making an argument against secularism using secularism as its basis.
The upshot of it is that they’re just complaining about not being able to impose their majority will onto everyone else.
They also whine about "religious illiteracy," which...
... we define as a lack of understanding about the basic tenets of a religious tradition, the ignorance about the diversity of these traditions and the ignorance of the profound role that religion plays in the social, cultural, and political life of individuals.
Which is the arrogance that assumes that an individual can't live a full social, cultural or political life without their nonsense. And seems to function as a complaint about an inability to indoctrinate kids. Who will now grow up intellectually unmolested.
Notice too that they include "political", which again speaks to the slipping political influence they're looking to bolster.
There are some problems in European countries, particularly in regards to freedom of expression and "hate speech" laws. Many of these seem to be geared towards protecting the sensibilities of the most fragile and volatile Muslims. But this isn't "discrimination against Xians", it's a problem with overreach generally, and not sticking to liberal values. It’s not “discrimination against Xians” when atheists, ex-Muslims and everyone else is subjected to the hair-trigger rage of fundamentalist Muslims.
https://www.secularism.org.uk/opinion/2022/06/britains-de-facto-blasphemy-law-strikes-again
With cinemas pulling the plug on a 'blasphemous' new film, the ugly spectre of religious censorship has again returned to the UK. Citing 'security concerns', cinema chains have cancelled screenings of The Lady of Heaven, a historical drama concerning the life of Lady Fatima, the daughter of the prophet Muhammad.
Cinemas acted in response to a series of protests in Birmingham, Bolton, Bradford and Sheffield by groups of Muslim fundamentalists who insisted the film should not be shown.
Likewise, there are certain ideas around “social justice” - “antiracism”, gender ideology, self identification, DEI, etc. - that affect public policy which people of all persuasions have had difficulty being able to criticize, resulting in cancel culture. Again, this isn’t a burden put onto Xians alone, and it’s one of the reasons we frame it in terms of a “woke religion.”
These things aren’t impositions onto Xians, they’re impositions onto everyone. Xians are being treated the same as everyone. The problem is that everyone is being treated unfairly, but they’re playing the unique victim. This is a society-wide problem of left-wing authoritarianism, but comes after centuries of religious authoritarianism silencing dissent and criticism of Xianity under blasphemy laws.
It's a fascinating study of hypocrisy and pettiness. For example, in the most recent report, we find this under "Direct Insults and Mockery."
UK Member of Parliament James Dornan attacked his Christian colleague Jacob Rees-Mogg on Twitter after Rees-Mogg posted a video about the Nationality and Borders Bill. Mr Dornan commented: “Hope you remember this the next time you go to confession. You and your cronies are already responsible for the deaths of thousands and you’re now happy to see the most desperate people in the world suffer and drown. If your god exists you will undoubtedly rot in hell”.
A Twitter spat is not "persecution." There’s both Block and Mute buttons. It’s bizarre that something as minor as this was worth putting on a Europe-wide persecution report. Is this how minor their complaints are? I guess being told you're going to hell is a bit over the line, huh?
While social media platforms regularly ban individuals for alleged ‘hate speech‘ and not complying with their “terms of service”, the same platforms have often overlooked hateful comments against Christians. The Slovakian singer Sima Magušinová was the target of abusive commentary by journalists Petr Tkačenek and Rada Ondřejíček. Ondřejíček wrote: “She is a Christian. You shouldn’t make fun of disabled people,” as a response to Tkačenek’s tweet mocking the singer. After many politicians responded with support for Magušinová and Christians in general, Ondřejíček refused to apologise, replying that “any religious belief is a mental diagnosis from my point of view. Feel free to be offended’’.
Translation: “I don’t understand what hate speech is, but I want to use it as a cudgel anyway.” “We don’t like being silenced, but we want to stop people saying things we don’t like, please.”
The normalization of intolerance towards aspects of Christian moral teaching can lead to social conflict, discriminatory treatment, and perpetuate negative stereotypes about Christians.
So, Xians moralizing and quoting nonsensical fairytales is just a normal part of every day society, but someone clapping back on Twitter is just beyond the pale. “Insults and mockery” aren’t Xians being persecuted, it’s Xianity being treated equally with all other ideas. Which appears to be the real problem.
We’re not obliged to listen to them tell us we’re broken and evil without their god, or watch them stumble around trying to justify their god’s fetish for slavery. We have a right to ignore them, we have a right to push back on them, and we have a right to not have our public spaces littered with their superstitious totems. Otherwise, that’s how you get a Baphomet statue.
And on top of this, it comes alongside complaints about religious individuals being de-platformed for their views on issues such as euthanasia and abortion, and this is a legitimate complaint, one which hopefully now be rectified on Twitter. But pointing out the unfairness of being de-platformed for your opinions and expecting others to be punished for theirs is hypocritical.
Putting these two events together is disingenuous.
In October 2021, during the annual Freshers’ Fair at Oxford University, the stand of the pro-life group “Oxford Students For Life” was violently removed from the event by other students and activists. Peers threw the group’s material into waste bins and refused to let them set it up again, threatening to tear it down again. The pro-life group had previously been criticized on social media when they shared a picture of the stand.
Regardless of your feelings about the issue, they should have a right to a stand at the fair (assuming it was appropriate, and not like, the sports club fair), without violence or intimidation. But criticism of it online is in no way the same thing. Words aren’t violence. Conflating the two is what caused many problems, from Charlie Hebdo to Dave Chappelle.
It’s then weird that they complain about “buffer zones.”
Other legal developments include the establishment of buffer zones, mostly around abortion facilities across the UK, with the aim to “protect” women by preventing dialogue between them and pro-life groups. In these zones, gatherings, silent prayer and addressing women entering a clinic could be prosecuted, with a fine and/or prison sentence. This conflicts with both freedom of speech and freedom of assembly, by criminalising actions that, while in some cases upsetting, are not criminal offences.
They describe it as the benign “preventing dialogue” and “addressing women,” then admit that they know they’re deliberately being upsetting, and feel entitled to do so. I bet the Oxford Students for Life would have appreciated a buffer zone around their stand, though, to allow anyone interested in what they had to say or have available to go un-harassed by dissenters. Which will it be? 
The whole thing is as messy, contradictory, arrogant and incoherent as their scripture. There are some legitimate complaints in there, just as there are some, few legitimate lessons in the bible. But just as those lessons aren’t unique to the bible, neither are the complaints particularly unique to Xianity, and often come down to violations of the same secularism they complain about.
None of which comes down to the level of “persecution.”
For example, under the heading “Negative Stereotypes and Disrespectful Messaging,” they complain that:
In April, the online magazine Politico published Javier Sábada’s commentary “Evangelicals”, in which he describes the group as fanatics who put “magic over science”
What strikes me the most about the papers I’ve read though is that the language they use directly echoes that of Muslims and Critical Social Justice activists in framing their oppressive victimhood. For example, preventing unwanted intrusion of religious dogma into other people’s lives is described as an “ideological agenda... to marginalise.”
They’re learning. Everybody’s working from the same playbook, which is reason enough to stop pandering to it.
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iteratedextras · 2 years
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[ @captain-acab ]
So, hear me out. What do we think about radicalizing (or, I guess, de-radicalizing?) police-state-loving right-wing youtubers by swatting them?
Worst case scenario, they get murdered by a pig, which is the pig's fault. Best case scenario, they become vocally anti-pig.
How many times do you think this could be done before all those white conservative men whine and cry enough about it that something is actually done to reduce swatting at a policy level? In other words:
1 - Reduce the number of vocally pro-cop right-wingers (and possibly make some of them start leaning left) 2 - Decrease popular support of police in the general public 3 - Possibly produce some actual police reform (at least by reducing drop-of-a-hat SWAT calls, which would make everyone safer)
Love to hear everyone's thoughts about this completely-hypothetical proposal!
Well it depends a lot on what you're trying to accomplish.
If your goal is to convince Republican voters that they can't rely on the police to lower the rise in crime that followed the 2020 riots and they should switch to lynch mobs of angry Hispanics, saving huge amounts of money on procedural costs like "state-appointed defense attorneys" or "keeping people alive in prisons instead of just extrajudicially executing them on the spot" or "maintaining a chain of evidence instead of just going by what some asshole said on Twitter,"
Then this is a great plan. It will be absolutely awful for race relations and hate crime statistics, but if you think literally nothing has changed in the country since 1850 and that isn't just cynical bullshit rhetoric to convince low-information voters to support the latest plan to nationalize the health insurance system, then you think the situation couldn't possibly get any worse.
If your goal is to convince right-wing streamers that Communists want to kill them all and that they need to support whoever will kill the Communists first... well they already believe that in a sort of distant, general, abstract sense due to all those times Communists killed large numbers of people in the past. But you could convince them that Communists want to kill them immediately, right now, instead of some abstract distant hypothetical. A broad campaign to do this to lots of streamers would be effective here.
If your goal is convincing the government to finally cryptographically secure the phone system so that all callers can be reliably identified and sued, this might also have some effect on that. Republicans might even pass a law that sends SWATters to federal prison for 10 years.
As a positive side effect, the phone network would become usable again due to the reduction in spam calls.
If your goal is to convince right-wingers that it's a good idea, and that they are morally required to, permit crazy people with a dozen prior convictions whose lack of impulse control causes them to push women in front of subway trains, to roam freely among the rest of society out of some dipshit view that all human beings are perfectly identical and that such a guy is, like, a victim of Society, maaan...
It won't work for that.
"You morally have to accept getting a brain concussion from some lunatic because we've deemed him more marginalized than you" just leads to "fuck your morality," which is usually written "Based."
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causeimhappinesss · 3 years
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Warm me up, Captain - Chris Redfield (smut)
Pairing: Chris Redfield x reader
Warnings: smut + wrap your biscuit, please + slight spoilers (RE village) I guess?
Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)
***
"I'm so sick of this shit..." you sighed. You knew you couldn't give up on your efforts so easily, let alone so close to the goal. You had to find Ethan first to stop him from doing anything and no matter how many times you begged Chris to tell him the truth because Winters was known for never giving up, he refused to listen to you. What a stubborn man!
You chattered your teeth, it was so cold, much colder than you imagined in the Carpathians, in Romania. Although you were wrapped up in relatively warm winter clothes, it didn't change the fact that the snow and the freezing wind in the middle of the night made it difficult for you to move forward. Shivers kept running through your body. The only thing that kept you from being totally frozen was the activity, the running, the eliminating of enemies; it warmed you up.
"You look freezing... Are you going to be okay? "
"Yes, Captain. "
You had joined his team for good reason and you had fought to be one of the best, you didn't intend to let your fragility faced with temperatures get the better of you. When you entered Heisenberg's factory, that crazy German or Austrian guy, you quickly encountered enemies to take down and soon you found yourself running through this creepy place from the first to the last level... During the operation, the team members scattered, looking for the master of the place and possibly Miranda. Arriving at the fifth level, Chris and you decided to take a break and examine the tank at your disposal... Taking advantage of the calm and the refuge that the place offered for the moment, immersed in the darkness, you rubbed your arms in reaction to the shivers that ran down your spine.
"I'm going to look around, to see if there's anything interesting. " you indicated, in a solemn voice, in order to scan the place with your eyes. Then you started to look around, in case you find a weapon, ammunition, a grenade or something else. Why not find a new lead, which would allow you to meet your objectives much faster.
"A cartridge! "you exclaimed with a thin smile. You bent down to pick up the bullets and put them away, aware that you would need them. It wasn't out of the question that you might run out at some point.
Chris studying the tank, ready to call your name, turned and froze when his gaze lingered on your ass. Suddenly he felt hot and couldn't rest his gaze on that part of your body. You hadn't known each other for months, the situation was horrible and complicated, but he was an older man with good taste in women. He had always thought you were beautiful and you were in front of him, in an exciting position. He wished he could stroke your curves, fuck you here and hear your moans, even though it wasn't safe to do it here... Why was he imagining all this? Now? He wasn't a twenty year old with raging hormones anymore! While fantasizing about you for less than a minute, he felt his cock harden in his black pants.
"Shit..." he swore into his beard as he looked down at his nearly invisible boner before feeling himself. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to scroll through the most sickening images before his eyes that his brain could produce. His erection didn’t subside. When he opened his eyes, he swiveled slightly to the side, you had stood up and turned your beautiful and cute face towards him.
Without noticing his crotch problem thanks to the dim light and his dark pants, you moved closer to him, still rubbing your arms. It didn't escape his gaze and instinctively, he helped you to warm up with these frictions, much more efficient than you with his thick and chalky hands.
"T-Thank you, Captain..." you stammered, as your cheeks flushed with the closeness. You had always been attracted to Redfield, from the first time you saw him and talked to him. You liked everything about him: his kindness, his open-mindedness, his grumpy and stubborn side, his authority... Your face so close to his muscular chest, his hands on your arms, you dreamed of a simple hug, but you couldn't afford it... He was your superior! Suddenly, a bang and a shake from below pulled you out of your little bubble moment. You clung to his biceps, bumped into his chest and your lower abdomen pressed against his erection.
Your cheekbones flushed even more, if that's possible. You weren't that naive, you knew you were the reason for his erection. Your heart missed a beat. Your whole body was on fire. You had wanted Chris... for a long time. Some nights you dreamed of him, of him fucking you so hard. He was completely your type, even though you were in the middle of a major operation, you needed to kiss him, to enjoy the moment. Your breath quickened and you both stood up, bewildered
"I'm sorry, Y/N...” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck.
Too late to apologize, you wanted him to do everything you'd been dreaming of for months... Fuck you to the point you forget your own name.
"Kiss me." You cut him off, nervously. Was it right? No one could judge you at the time, but morally... You were a little confused. After all, he was your captain, your leader!
Without hesitation, Chris framed your face between his two thick, stubby hands. He pressed his lips to yours for a passionate kiss. One of his hands slid to your waist as your tongues danced wildly. It didn't feel wrong. You were ecstatic. It was as if you had known him for years and trusted him with your heart. Desire... Something that was hard to avoid. Hands everywhere, seeking body heat, discovering a new body. You admired his toned chest, tracing his abs and smooth skin with your fingertips, sensually.
It was a dangerous game to embark on a quick fuck, in such a place, that day, but you needed this. You couldn't imagine what was going to happen in the next few hours and you reminded yourself that life was short, especially these days... As much as possible, you needed to enjoy this sweet, sexual moment.
In a few moments, he ran his fingers over your body, pulled up your sweater, pulled down your bra to reveal your breasts, which he enjoyed titillating and kissing with fervor. Shivers ran through your whole body. Your pussy was getting wet and your wetness was sticking to the fabric of your panties. He got rid of your pants, while you opened his, lowered them, along with his boxers. With joy, you discovered a large and long veiny penis, reddish, twitching with desire. His kisses and embraces warmed your skin, feeling his lips brush against your chest, a teasing look on his face, to excite you like you'd never been before.
"Captain... Warm me up... I'm freezing..." you whispered in the hollow of his ear, mischievously.
His thumb traveled to your warm, wet center, between your thighs, before he gets ride of your panties. As he tickled your most sensitive part, you closed your eyes and a soft moan escaped your lips. He was experienced, that was obvious. He varied the pressure and movements on your clit to bring you up to cloud nine. His expert fingers plunged into your warmth, coming to tickle your oh-so-sensitive vaginal walls, while you craved his huge cock. You were trembling and exuding desire. You bit your lower lip to avoid being loud, at the same time you felt your first orgasm rising and before you could reach it, he stopped his movements. You opened your eyelids and came to caress his erect, hard member, its red head, covered with precum... You salivated with impatience. You made some movements of back and forth with your hand and if you dreamed to suck him, to make him beg you to make him cum, you knew that you didn't have much time, but you kissed the tip. Sighs of pleasure, almost inaudible, passed the barrier of his lips, as he threw his head back.
"Let me warm you up, Y/N..."
Finally, he stopped you in your tracks and with a simple gesture, you jumped. Your legs were wrapped around his pelvis as he supported you by your buttocks. With your back pressed against the wall behind you, you couldn't move as he was about to lead the way. The head of his pinkish cock titillated your wet, hot entrance, which begged him to take you. He knew how to drive you crazy, to the point where you dreamed of forcing him to impale you. Seeming to guess in your thoughts, to read in your eyes veiled with desire, he was in you with a single thrust.
"Oh fuck..." he moaned. You whined slightly together at the sensation. He let you adjust to his size before he began to move back and forth. The faster and more intense his thrusts were, the more you struggled to stay quiet. With one hand, he pressed his hand against your mouth as you tightened your legs around his hips, one hand on his buttocks to push his member further into you while the other played with his hair. You were drunk with love, with sex.
“Faster… Harder…” you wanted to say.
He quickened the pace, so much so that the pleasure became intense. Raucous moans escaped from his lips as you sobbed against his hand. You were gradually approaching orgasm, both at the same pace... At that moment, we could just hear your skins snapping, your faint moans, and the sound of your juices.
"You feel so good... So tight…" he whispered.
As your vagina tightened around his member during your orgasm, he lost control of his rhythm, he pounded into you brutally and it didn't take him long to ride his own orgasm. The feeling of intense well-being and euphoria took hold of him, letting his hot cum pour into your clenching pussy, filling you completely. Gradually, his movements stopped, although he was still supporting you... He finally withdrew, as droplets of his semen flowed from your orifice, reddened, until then martyred by his cock. A smile of satisfaction and euphoria stretched his lips.
"We should do this again when we leave this fucking village. " he annouced while sending you a wink.
***
Instagram (writer) : @carolinemertz_ 
AO3 : maybe one day? Still waiting to create an account aha
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hornime · 3 years
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HIT ME LIKE YOU HATE ME | IWAIZUMI HAJIME X F!READER
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a/n: hello everyone i just want to let you know that i have contracted a dangerously contagious disease called obsession-with-hard!dom-iwa and unfortunately there is no cure :( anyway here is a drabble because my brain is,, rotting
warnings: 18+, timeskip!iwaizumi, IMPACT PLAY (what can i say i’m a kinky lil shit), kinda dom/sub dynamics, use of “sir”
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thinking about olympic trainer iwaizumi that just had a shitty practice with the boys. the team was off their game and morale got even worse when some old injuries (that he swore he’d assigned the treatment for) flared up. the coaches were pissed, the players were pissed, and needless to say, he was pissed, because if there’s one thing that sets him off more than anything, its not doing a job right the first time. 
there’s a red hot anger that’s pumping like blood through his veins, and he needs to take it out on something.
or someone.
you’re scrolling mindlessly on your phone when the front door creaks open, barely able to lift your head and get out a word of greeting before his warm palm is pressing into your neck.
“had a bad day, baby,” he mutters into your hair, pulling you close with his other arm. he brushes his lips along the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “might need to be a little harsher than usual.”
you hum a little, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and trying to ignore the rush of arousal pooling in your stomach at the gravel in his tone. 
he steps back, allowing some space between the two of you so he can see your face. this grip on your neck slackens and he lifts your chin to make eye contact. “that sound good?”
you nod, leaning your head into his touch. he pulls his hand away and you let out a little whine. there’s not a trace of sympathy in his eyes as he speaks.
“words, baby. what’s your color?”
“green,” you whisper airily. you clear your throat, embarrassed at how desperate you sound. “green.”
something ignites in his pupils, and you swear you can see them glint with lust. “take your clothes off. face down, ass up on the bed.” 
you open your mouth to speak, but he’s already turning away and unzipping his jacket. you hear his voice call out to you as you make your way to the bedroom: “and hands behind your back.”
you pause, heart racing and clit throbbing at the implication of his words. “yes sir.”
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you’re in the position iwaizumi ordered you to be in, back arched at an angle that has your cheek smushed into the pillow and the curve of your ass teasingly high in the air. your weight shifts between your thighs in impatience, the hell is taking him so damn long, and you’re so caught up in your own head that you don’t even notice him entering the room.
“stop fucking moving.” you freeze as his gruff voice enters your ears, calloused fingers brushing against your trembling thighs. something leathery brushes against your skin and you gasp as the fabric of his belt is wrapped around your wrists, cruelly binding them together.
“sorry,” you breathe, exhaling onto the pillow below you.
his palm comes hot and heavy onto your ass cheek, and you yelp at the sudden pain flaring through your body. “did i say you could fucking talk?”
you shake your head weakly, biting at your lower lip to prevent yourself from making any more noise.
“that’s what i thought.” he smacks your ass again and you jerk forward, smothering your face into the comforter so that you don’t moan. “count.”
“one!” you cry out as he hits you again, a blunt soreness spreading through your backside. you shudder at the sensation of his palms rubbing the flesh, wishing he’d touch your neglected cunny instead, which is drooling pathetically into your panties.
“god, i had such a fucking shit day today. just wanna,” his palm makes contact with your ass again, your skin rippling at the impact. “just wanna break something.”
you choke out a “two!” as he’s hitting you again, your brain becoming increasingly jumbled as numbers tumble out from between your lips and the sounds of skin-on-skin fills the air.
at spank seven, your upper body collapses, and your knees barely support your ass as iwaizumi continues his barrage. each strike of his palm forces you forward on the bed, your frame being helplessly manipulated to his will. the push and pull of your cunt drags your clit just right on the blanket, and you barely comprehend the coil of an orgasm building in your pussy until spank thirteen. 
but by then, you’re too far gone to do anything about it.
a small “fifteen!” escapes your parted lips, glossy with drool, and you’re absolutely fucked, completely unable to control yourself as the muscles in your stomach clench tight and your pussy twitches involuntarily. a thought of holy shit i’m cumming flashes through your mind, but is quickly replaced by the overwhelming pleasure that’s shooting through your body. your wails and moans are muffled as your bury your head, your bound hands clutching futilely at air.
your mind’s far too hazy to notice that iwaizumi’s stopped his actions entirely, standing straight at the edge of the bed with his hands down at his sides as he gazes at you with a sick sense of satisfaction. 
“baby,” he purrs, his palms trailing heavily up your sides. there’s a semblance of amusement threading through the rough irritation of his voice that he’d entered the room with: “did you just cum?”
you nod, tears of humiliation and arousal streaking down your cheeks. “’m sorry sir, i didn’t mean to.” you tense as his touch leaves your back, preparing for another explosion of pain on your already-raw ass, this time as punishment, but you’re surprised (and slightly disappointed) when his hands move to your calves instead. 
he’s on his knees in front of your cunt, peering in wonder at the way your weeping hole tightens around nothing. you whimper in humiliation, trying to squirm away from the ravenous way he’s looking at you, like a predator at its prey, but he’s wrapped his hands around the front of your thighs, keeping you still.
“such a naughty girl, enjoying a spanking enough to cum from it,” he tuts, hot breath fanning against your pussy. you whimper out another apology, but he shushes you. “s’alright, baby. ‘m not in a bad mood anymore, anyway.”
you shudder as he flattens his tongue against you, flicking lightly at your sensitive clit. “actually, now i’m in a good mood.”
you can practically see his grin as he tugs you closer, teasing your hole with the pads of his fingers: “and you know how much i love making you cum when i’m in a good mood.”
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© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.
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jellyluchi · 3 years
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La Squadra x Gamer!Reader + spice
A/N: I’m not much of a gamer but I have been playing a few video games lately that gave me this idea. Edit: this was drafted mooonths ago when I was still playing Hades which I haven’t touched in a hot minute...
— Genre: nsfw, minors DNI
— Warnings: suggestive content, mentions of oral, fingering
Risotto
Tries to understand and play some of your video games if you decide to teach him, depending on the type of game he’s either really good or he sucks
Prefers to watch you play in either complete silence or let you talk and explain what the game is about
might ask you questions here and there because he’s a good boyfriend who takes interest in his partner’s fav hobbies!
enjoys relaxing decorative games or puzzle games the most. Also horror for aesthetics and good stories.
depending on whether he can tell if you’re in the mood (and yes he can tell) might tease you as you play
it starts with very light touches while you’re concentrating on the game and before you can even tell somehow you’re squirming!
very good at being stealthy when it comes to teasing his partners physically
might even use metallica to heighten your experience! your game is soon forgotten and you can’t remember if you beat the level or not
Prosciutto
Most likely to have you already on his lap when you’re playing if it’s his day off and he’s relaxing
a grandpa who won’t even try your video games unless you can somehow convince him with like.... a 45 slide power point on why he’d enjoy it, otherwise it’s just not to his taste
however, in the occasion that you do convince him, it’s truly a sight to see! This man is as intensely competitive as he is shit at games LOL (running in an fps looking at the ground with no camera control rip)
prone to giving up very fast unless you really walk him through it! Even then might not enjoy it unless it’s an interesting story or concept
will be more partial to games that tackle ethics and morals or are darker themed
But his favorite game is teasing you, you’re already on his lap and he loves giving you cuddles and if your having fun with your game why can’t he have fun with his?
It will be such a sensual and soothing experiencing you won’t realize when it even began before you’re panting a bit.
The best outcome is when you willingly leave your video games to go play with him instead
Pesci
Not big on gaming on his own but enjoys them very much when he plays, loves it if you invite him to play something!
Enjoys building and open world exploring type games the most (especially if the latter has some sort of fishing mini-game)
He likes to be creative with his building or wants to get immersed in some fantastical story
Is also chill with listening to you explain your games to him if he’s unfamiliar and loves watching you play
Now if you want some ‘video games and chill’ type situation you might have to be the one to initiate.
Whether it’s hinting at it verbally or physically he would need that confirmation
But once he knows what you want he’s not afraid to support you under the desk if you know what I mean.
Likes to hear your moans overpowering the video game music because it lets him know he’s doing a good job 
Formaggio
He’s already your video game buddy most likely, and he gets playfully competitive to boot
Likes FPS the most, especially if it’s multiplayer because that means he can go against you and keep score who got most kills
But if it’s a story based game he’ll goof off and sabotage missions on purpose to see how he can mess with the game (gfx, mechanics etc.)
Also just generally a fan of shooting things in game because it’s satisfying plus he has really good aim wit all his practice
when he’s not in the mood to play he’ll comment on your gaming and get close to rub your thighs slowly
if you don’t get the hint he’ll get bolder with his touches until they’re on your ass and interrupting your concentration
likes when you get frustrated from his touches and considers it a victory if you drop your game to make out with him
Likes to make bets like ‘if you score ___ I’ll dive between your legs’
Melone
Not partial to gaming but definitely has gaming experience, mostly with rhythm games rather than traditional console or PC ones
He really likes to know the details of games from you and can listen to you for hours explaining your favorite parts 
Gets into Sci-fi games the most, he loves the world building and the creative fictional technology that they come up with esp for space travel
His skills with the computer didn’t give him much gaming skills but it did allow him to get used to the controls quickly and he gets better with time
Touching you is something he’d rather do, even if its got an interesting concept because nothing is better than seeing you try to fight your moans
If you’re concentrated in gaming or explaining something he won’t interrupt you, but will invade your personal space till you get the hint
If you don’t, he will only inch closer till he’s touching you, first in innocent spots but eventually between your legs or your chest
Loves giving oral during gaming sessions, if you need support under the table he’s your man
Illuso
Never been much of a gamer but he loves to watch you play, especially when you get riled up. He’ll make lots of teasing comments about your gameplay to make you angry or irritated on purpose 
He pretends to look down on your gaming skills only because he knows the anger fuels your hormones
He gets bored quick when asked to play, is more into the avatar making section of the game than the actual game 
The type to run around in game going through the surrounding talking to random NPCs than actually playing 
His boredom from the games usually leads to other ideas, abandoning his console he, very sneakily, gets behind you. Like a snake he’s quickly wrapped around your body before you realize
You would only notice when he’s making quick work of your clothes, he’ll stop if you ask but if not, and usually you don’t, he’ll tease your inner thighs 
Doesn’t really putting his fingers between your legs unless you give him your undivided attention. If you whine, he just asks you what you want (may or may not give it to you depending on his mood) 
His goal is to make you sexually frustrated enough to abandon the game and let him finger you instead
Ghiaccio
A competitive gamer himself, you may find yourself actually challenged when playing with him. More likely to play FPS than the rest. 
He’s definitely vocal and focused when playing, comments on your every little move like you’re making the worst decision of your life 
Thinks bets are stupid (because he’s gonna win, obviously right?) and accept whatever challenge you throw at him 
Is super smug if he wins, but if he loses and you make him do something he hates he’ll be a sore loser and curse up a storm saying he’ll get you back for it 
Ghiaccio takes things at face value, he’s not going to think you’re here to fuck unless you actually say so (in which case he goes very red not realizing your intentions) 
If he’s particularly pent up though, he will wonder about the possibility of but won’t initiate it, you really have to be the one to rile him up well 
if you play your cards right, that is, letting him win, handling his attitude about it, getting him flustered enough, he will be open to letting you sucking him off, courtesy of winning the game 
the other much more fun route would be to win against him, tease him to hell and back and just saying “shut up and fuck me” in which case he will be more than happy to oblige after the stunt you pulled when playing 
Sorbet & Gelato
These two are actually pretty accustomed to old consoles such as the n64, having had grown up during it’s time however you will still have to help them navigate any gaming interface properly 
Most likely not used to PC gaming just yet but it’s terribly fun to have them watch especially if you’re playing horror and Gelato delights in the jumpscares while Sorbet really has no reaction 
Very much likes the morbid games psychological horrors with gore, their favorite characters are always the unhinged ones 
They’re both prone to comment if they’re playing themselves and it’s fun to watch as they’re barely phased by the atmosphere or general horrors of the game
Neither of them have much fun just observing you play your game, it’s more likely Gelato will get bored and whisper something lewd into Sorbet’s ear who smirks and they move into action
The plan is simple, they just want to see you squirm, won’t it be so much more fun to play if you’re taking Gelato from behind while Sorbet goes down your throat? 
Sure, in that case you’d be in no position to play by yourself but in perfect position for them to play with their little plaything
they’re really not much for subtlety and two of them and one of you, it doesn’t take much convincing nor man power to get you on your knees. 
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blu-joons · 3 years
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DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Kwon Soonyoung
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A ⇴ AFFECTION 
Soonyoung is always incredibly soft with any affection that he gives you, he loves to have his arms around you, whether it’s your waist, neck, or shoulders, he’ll take whatever he can get when it comes to being close to you.
B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 
You were instantly drawn the charming smile he had when the two of you first went to the same coffee store. He caught your eye in the queue, and you could only manage a smile back at him before the waitress called you forwards and took your order, aware that Soonyoung’s eyes were firmly watching you.
C ⇴ CONFESSION 
The two of you coincidentally kept bumping into each other at the store most mornings, almost as if it was fate. You never said a word to each other until one time you went to give your order only to be told it was already sorted. Soonyoung had learnt your order off by heart and paid for your coffee when he saw you walking into the store on the promise that you’d let him take you out for dinner whenever you had the time.
D ⇴ DATES 
You’re both fond of adventuring on your dates and exploring plenty of new places. Soonyoung will drive you around for hours to find hotspots for dates and quiet places. Sometimes just driving around is enough for the two of you, especially at night. You’ll stop by a drive-thru and order yourselves from food, turn the speakers up high in the car and just go in whichever direction you decide, making the most of the peace and quiet from it all and also the time that you get to spend with each other and just be able to talk.
E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 
Soonyoung had zero dating experience before he met you, and so he relied on those around him to give him a lot of tips when it first came to impressing you. You could tell that he was nervous when your relationship first began, he often mumbled apologies out of fear that he was doing something wrong or had perhaps missed a trick. It took a lot of reassurance from you to allow him to settle and trust that what he was doing was alright, but as he learned more about dating, he definitely began to settle in your relationship more too.
F ⇴ FIGHTING 
If there’s ever something that has upset you or angered you, Soonyoung is always very understanding and willing to help to make a change. He’s not someone who gets upset if you find yourself wanting to argue, he’s the first to admit that he’s not perfect, and if he can do something to make your life easier, then he’ll definitely do it. Similarly, with you, if something frustrates him about you, he’ll understand that the two of you are different people and at sometimes differences can appear, it’s just about working through it and moving forwards. It takes a lot to argue with him, or at least try and create a disagreement between you both.
G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 
Finding the time in Soonyoung’s busy schedule is hard to be able to meet his family, but whenever he has the chance, he’ll take you to visit his family. They’ve heard enough about you from Soonyoung to know that they’ll love you but meeting you in person far exceeds all of their expectations for the person that you are.
H ⇴ HOME 
He often spends more time at the studio then his home anyway, so Soonyoung won’t be too fussed wherever he settles. If it’s easier for him to head back to the dorm at night, then he will, or if yours is better, he’ll arrive there. Soonyoung is in no rush to find a place together, which you’re understanding of when he’s so busy.
I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 
When he came home from tour and reunited with you, Soonyoung couldn’t help but tell you that he loved you. He never imagined that he’d struggle as much as he did with not being able to see you, but as he thought about it, the emotions that he felt of not being able to be around you added up to one answer, that he loved you.
J ⇴ JEALOUSY 
Soonyoung is someone who is full of confidence, so he’ll pit himself against any other guy quite happily and know that you’d pick him, therefore he doesn’t tend to get jealous too often. He also appreciates that you have other people in your life who aren’t him, and so if you want to spend your time with someone else, then he’ll understand that and won’t allow himself to get jealous. Although he can’t hide the fact that he’ll be relieved when you get home to him, and answer all of his questions about how your day was.
K ⇴ KIDS 
The two of you talked about your future from time to time, finding it important to see if you were on the same trajectories. Soonyoung loved to tell you all about how he hoped to be able to teach his children dancing in the future, having kids was a huge deal to him, but having children that would hopefully follow in his footsteps was a thought that made him very happy, and very excited for a future with you too.
L ⇴ LAUGHTER 
There is never a bad day whenever you’re in Soonyoung’s company, he’s one of the main members who can help to create a light and happy atmosphere. He also hates whenever you’ve had a bad day and come home sad, he always works hard to pick up anyone when they’re feeling down, but especially you. He’ll work tirelessly to try and make you smile again, no matter how long it takes or how down you’re feeling. He cares a lot about making sure that you live a happy life with him, and will put all his efforts into making you laugh, cracking joke after joke and forever making cheeky remarks that will make you grin.
M ⇴ MISSING 
The true sign that the other members need to know that Soonyoung is missing you is when his own mood drops, and he becomes quiet. He’s always the one to pick the others up, so they’ll be the first ones there to pick him up whenever he needs it too. He’ll force a smile onto his face whenever he calls you, because he knows that you miss him. and he doesn’t want to make things worse for you. Not having him around to brighten the mood will be hard on all of the boys, they rely on him too, so they’ll try desperately to pick him up, not just for his own sake, but for keeping the moral of the rest of the group high as well.
N ⇴ NICKNAMES
You often end up calling Soonyoung, ‘energiser,’ because he just never stops. If he’s not dancing or singing, he’s talking or running around the place looking after you, he never seems to take a moment to breathe.  
O ⇴ OBSESSION 
He’s obsessed with your smile and making sure that you’re happy. Just the thought of you being down is heart breaking for him, so he’ll do whatever he can to make you smile.
P ⇴ PDA 
Soonyoung is confident in your relationship, so he definitely doesn’t mind about being affectionate with you in public. Whilst he doesn’t do anything to draw attention to the two of you, the way he holds you in public sends a clear message to those watching you both that he’s in love with you and a very happy guy too.
Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 
Whenever he comes up with a new routine or sequence, Soonyoung will often ask you about it and see what you think. Your opinion means a lot to him, and so any steps that get approval from you instantly go towards the group too.
R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 
His phone album is full of random photos of you that he’s taken over the years. Quite a few of them are unflattering and taken from the worst angles, but those ones are also Soonyoung’s favourites because even though you’re at your worst, he still loves the way you look. Every single photo goes a long way to helping him when he’s on tour and picking his mood up whenever he’s missing you, bringing a smile back to his face.
S ⇴ SEX 
Soonyoung has a lot of energy when it comes to getting intimate with you, he never tires, and never complains either. He’s always very physical around you, he loves to keep you nice and close and guide you into positions that he loves to get you in. There’s never too much distance between the two of you, and if you start to tire, then Soonyoung will encourage you to relax and let him do all the work to make you feel good.
T ⇴ TEXTS 
If he’s not able to see you throughout the day, then he’ll often send you videos of the things that he’s getting up to so you can still feel as if you’re there with him and take note of the places he’s visits for your future date nights too.
U ⇴ UNIVERSE 
Your support is by far the thing that means the most to Soonyoung, knowing that he has someone who is permanently backing him and pushing him to achieve his dreams is the boost he needs to make sure that he keeps going.
V ⇴ VACATION 
Going on holiday is a treat for you both regardless of where you are in the world. The two of you will often decide on a place, and if you can’t, you’ll take a globe and drop a pin in it, wherever it lands, the two of you go. As long as you’re adventuring then you’re both happy no matter where you are in the world.
W ⇴ WHINING 
Soonyoung tends to lean towards liking your attention, and whilst he can deal without it for a while, if you leave it too long, he’ll let you know about it.
X ⇴ XXXXX 
Kisses from Soonyoung are always soft and sweet, whenever he has you in his hold it becomes an instinct for him to press a kiss against your cheek or against the side of your head. For him, your kisses are another form of support, almost as if you’re sealing your approval that he’s doing well and reminding him that you’re right there with him. They’re incredibly comforting and reassuring for him to know that you’re there.
Y ⇴ YOU 
You’re his number one fan, always his cheerleader on the side-lines supporting him.
Z ⇴ ZZZ 
He loves to be close to you at night, it’s comforting for him to be able to feel the quiet sounds of your breath and the feeling of you wriggling beside him as you try to get comfortable, settling eventually in his arms.
---
Masterlist
182 notes · View notes
kpop-cakepops · 4 years
Note
hi !! i just thought of this really specific prompt where you and your best friend wonwoo go donate blood but afterwards he feels realllyyy sick and lightheaded so you hold onto him and help him walk bc he’s barely able to stand up. then you take him home to his bed and while trying to help him lie down, he kinda just passes out on you and he’s too heavy to move and you’re also rly tired so you kinda both just cuddle and fall asleep together
Hi Hi! This one sounds fun! Sorry I'm a bit late! I was a bit busy with my shop today! Enjoyyyy! (also I didn't get a chance to edit this so pls excuse any mistakes made)
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,328
Genre: Fluff
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Snuggle Donation// Jeon WonwooxFem!Reader
"Have I ever told you I hate blood?" asked Wonwoo as he cautiously walked out of the taxi and waited for his best friend to pay the fee for him.
"Yeah, like 20 times on the way to the clinic and 20 times on the way back home" Y/N assured him lightly. Her eyes watching him closely.
"You really don't look good, Woo. Do you need me to help you up to your place?"
He shook his head adamantly. "No. Absolutely not. I'm fine!" However, it took only two steps for the young man to go stumbling into the pole right in front of him.
"WOO!" Y/N'S arms flailed in surprise as she watched the tall man drop to the ground with a whine. "Are you okay?! Oh my goodness!"
"I'm fine! I'm fine! I just tripped is all!"
"Yeah right. I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it. Wonwoo, when I told you to come with me to donate blood, I meant I would be doing the donating and you'd be doing the moral supporting. I know you better than I know myself, you're deathly afraid of needles and blood" The young woman's annoyed grumbles were hushed by Wonwoo's chest as she awkwardly tried to help his weakened limbs into the apartment complex.
"It was for a good cause" he retaliated, but Y/N knew it was about more than that. "I wanted to be a good citizen"
"Being a good citizen shouldn't equal to your fear reflex causing your blood pressure to drop so much you get SICK!" Y/N's continuous nagging caused her best friend to roll his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, okay mom"
"Shut up" she snapped and pressed the button to his floor, people in the elevator looking at the two of them dubiously. "He's not drunk. He's just an idiot" Y/N assured but it didn't exactly help with the looks.
After what would probably mark Y/N's most difficult 5-yard walk ever, the two friends arrived at the tall man's door. "Where's your key?"
He smiled shakily. "Back pocket"
"Jesus Christ. You seriously owe me for this. I'm being so serious right now. You're gonna owe me so much you won't be able to pay me back ever."
She slowly moved her hand to the back of his jeans, carefully pushing her hand into his back pocket only to freeze when a loud gasp interrupted her from behind. "Oh my... Y/N, I didn't take you for a public loving kind of girl, my god. I get that we all know you two are lowkey getting it on, but wowza, aren't you two being a little bit bold?"
The embarrassed girl didn't even have to look over her shoulder to know exactly who was standing behind them. "You have got to be kidding me. Hey Seokmin, how about instead of standing there being an idiot, you help-"
"No no, I am really sorry about this. I won't get in your way. Don't you worry a single bit. Oh and Hyung? Just a word of advice, don't be silly... wrap the willy." Y/N could hear the smirk in Seokmin's voice as he slowly retreated until eventually, all she could hear was the ding of the elevator doors opening. "Goodbyeeeeeeeee lovebirds"
"LEE SEOKMIN!"
"Let him go. He's an idiot. He won't come back. He's got too much 'tea to spill' as he likes to say." Wonwoo warned. "I'm seriously about to pass out here. Can you please hurry it up?"
"Wow. Just wow. I could drop you here and leave, you know that right?" Her empty threats were met by Wonwoo's uncharacteristic playfulness.
"You love me too much to do that."
The flustered girl refused to acknowledge his little tease as she finally managed to push his front door open. The struggle to keep her best friend on his feet did not lessen as she huffed and puffed moving him little by little into his bedroom.
"You are heavier than I ever thought you'd be" she admitted.
"It's all muscle mass" he smirked.
It irked her that even when he wasn't feeling his best he still managed to retort. "You're seriously annoying, ever tell you that?"
There was no further opportunity for him to answer her, it seemed that what little energy her best friend had been running on was gone. He went absolutely limp on her causing her to fall onto the bed with the very tall and very heavy man on top of her. "Oh my god. Oh my God. Oh my god." Y/N cursed internally as she felt her friend snuggle his face straight into the crook of her neck causing her skin to erupt with chilling goosebumps.
"Jeon Wonwoo" her tone was stiff as she attempted to push him off her. "No, seriously, Wonwoo I can't get you off me." All she received in response was an annoyed grunt from her sleepy friend and yet another uncalled for dose of snuggles.
Y/N had done her fair share of activities with Wonwoo. Anything from reading, to people watching, to skiing in Japan, you name it, she'd done it... but cuddling? With Wonwoo?! Out of question! Never done it, never wanted to do it... or so she thought because as she continued to lay there under him an inexplicable feeling of comfort began to take over her. The slow and steady breathing of the giant boy that lay on her lulling her slowly until eventually she too surrendered to sleep...
"HYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNG!!!!"
However, that peaceful sleep was brought to an end 2 hours later by the same obnoxious voice that had caught Y/N with her hand deep in her best friend's back pocket.
Seokmin.
Both Y/N and Wonwoo stirred in their spot in the bed. They had somehow unknowingly shifted so Wonwoo was now lying next to her with a long arm draped over her top half, legs tangled in a sleepy mess. Anyone that happened to walk into the two of them would fOr sure get the wrong idea.
Seokmin was that anyone.
Wonwoo didn't even stand up to explain or even usher him out of the room. Instead, he grabbed the remote that was closest to him and flung it right at Seokmin's head. "I thought you said you weren't going to interrupt!" He hissed.
"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU TWO WERE ACTUALLY GETTING IT ON IN THE DOWN LOW?!" Seokmin's exclamation made Y/N shift.
"No one's getting anything on. I just happened to fall asleep." She grunted as she tried to pull herself up, but Wonwoo's arms held her down and against him.
"Get out, we're tired."
Seokmin's eyes got big in realization. Wonwoo was being serious. Seokmin could see it in the way his older friend's face flushed flustered. "I- okay..." the soft smile on Seokmin's face serving to assure Wonwoo that what he had just seen would remain between the three of them.
Y/N shifted in Wonwoo's hold as soon as she heard his front door click shut in the distance. "Um, hey Woo? You can let me go now."
"No, it's warm this way," he said. "I like it."
Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly. "Uh, okay. That's okay... then." She squeaked as she nestled back into position. Her mind was racing as she felt her Best Friend snuggle back into her.
Wow, he smells good... he's so soft... since when was Wonwoo warm?
"Go back to sleep" Wonwoo murmured, his words slightly slurred letting her know he'd be sleeping again at any moment.
"Uh yeah... I'm trying" she lied.
Y/N wasn't sure what was going on or why she was liking the way they were both lying in a tangle of limbs, all she could gather in her just awoken mind was that she really liked cuddling and that she could use a few visits to the gym in the future.
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moronic-validity · 3 years
Text
The Vincent Sinclair’s Boot x Reader Fic
okay so a few notes! 
1) Reader is a trans guy (like your’s truly) 
2) This is smut for the sake of smut, plain and simple.
3) I finished this at 2:30am and I have to be at work at 8. 
This Contains: dubcon/coerced consent, drugs, bdsm, dom vincent, a boot kink, typos, almost murder, masturbation, and car problems! Everything under the cut is 18+!!!
As the temperature gauge crept higher and higher, [y/n] had to kick himself. He had been told to check his oil periodically through the road trip, but more than that, he had always been told to keep an extra thing of 5-20 in his car. Both pieces of advice went in one ear and out the other.
Which left him here, in the middle of nowhere Louisiana, 30 miles shy of Baton Rouge.
The immediate reaction was to get out of his car and scream. Sure, it was near midnight, but there wasn’t anyone nearby, so what was the worst thing that could happen.  The flash of headlights on him and his car answered his question.
Great. Fantastic. Cool.
“Hey, sorry about the yelling,” he called out in the general direction of the headlights. “Any chance you have some 5-20, I’ll be right out of here if you do!”
No response. [y/n] sighed and sat on the hood of his car and watched the car. It was the middle of the night and it was still hotter than hell and humid to match. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his t shirt over his head and sat it on the hood next to him. What did it matter, he had a binder on anyway. Not like anything was showing.
The mystery driver flashed his brights at [y/n], then threw it in reverse and went back to where he came from.
Well that’s fantastic. I’m in the middle of nowhere and someone knows I’m stranded here. Perfect.
Without giving any more thought to it, he got back into his car and went to sleep, his t shirt thrown over his eyes.
The sun didn’t wake him up, the tapping on his window did.
[y/n] scrambled into an acceptable position and pulled his still damp t shirt on. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to see the man standing near his window. The man wasn’t intimidating or anything, but the situation was odd and [y/n] was immediately warry.
“Sorry ‘bout that, didn mean to startle ya or nothin,” The man with the green hat said with a small laugh, “it just looked like ya might need some help, most people don like sleepin in their car this time a year.”
[y/n] squinted at the guy. It wasn’t due to the accent or the look of him, the sun just happened to be right in his eyes. The perfect start to another fantastic day.
“Uh yeah, I’ve definitely had better days. Any chance you know where to get a quart or two of oil?” He asked, ending it with a still tired yawn.
“I could give ya a lift into town, ‘m sure Bo will help you out at the station,” The green hatted man offered helpfully.
“Actually, that’d be wonderful, thank you…” [y/n] realized that he just accepted a ride from a man who’s name he didn’t even know. His mother would be so proud.
“Lester, Lester Sinclair,” Lester said with an extended hand.
“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n]” He took the other’s hand and gave a firm shake. [y/n] was acutely aware of the tacky reddish-brown smudge that was now on his hand.
The ride into town was quite, aside from the rumble of Lester’s truck and the sound of tires throwing rock.
“So where’re you headed?” Lester asked, glancing over at [y/n].
“Ah, no direction, wanted to go up, down, coast to coast. Want to see a little bit of everything, I guess,” [y/n] picked at the skin around his index finger, “I’ve only broken down once, so I figure I’m doing okay.”
“Welcome to Ambrose, I know it probably isn where ya wanted t’ go, but there are worse places.” Lester said cheerfully.
The ride went back to being quiet.
“Oh shit,” Lester whined, more to himself than anything else, as he threw the car in park and jumped out, “ya wouldn’ mind givin me a hand flipping the hubs, would ya?”
What the hell does that even mean? {y/n] thought to himself as he hopped out of the car to help Lester with the task anyway. Help was a bit of a strong word for what [y/n] did, it was more get in the way and offer moral support. Lester appreciated the gesture and the company. Most people jumped out of the car and fled into town by this point.
The two got back into the truck and drove right on into Ambrose and parked in front of the service station.
“Now, you wait here, Bo ‘ll be ‘round soon,” Lester dropped [y/n] off with a wave then drove off to wherever he worked. It occurred to [y/n] that he never thought to ask.
It also occurred to [y/n] that he’d have to walk back to his car or hope that someone in town would be willing to give him a ride. Just one more thing. He sighed and sat with his back against the wall of the station.
At least there’s shade. It’s already starting to feel like the devil’s armpit, but at least there is shade.
Time passed, could’ve been hours, could’ve been minutes.
No, it was definitely hours.
Around the point [y/n] was sure that this Bo guy would have to pry him off the cement with a spatula, Bo happened to come down the road and up to the door of the station, near where he was sitting. Bo stood within arm’s distance as [y/n] pushed himself up off the sidewalk.
“I take it you’re Bo? [Y/n] [l/n], Lester said you might have some oil?” [y/n] offered the man he assumed to be Bo his hand. Bo flashed [y/n] a smile that seemed to try to hard to be charming.
“Well, I’d introduce myself but you already know who I am,” Bo chuckled. He was in a suit and tie, didn’t seem like he was dressed for his line of work. “ Let’s see if we can’t get you back on the road, hm?” He hummed to himself as he unlocked the door to let the two men into the store.
There was no AC, and that was the first problem [y/n] had with the station. The second problem was that there appeared to be no oil. Anywhere.
What type of station doesn’t carry oil. Oil. OIL. Walmart carries oil, DG carries oil. Why does this man not have oil.
“Uh….Hey Bo, any chance you have some oil in the garage that you’re willing to part with?” [y/n] asked, while squatting and looking at another shelf devoid of oil.
“I’m sure I could check,” Bo said, his voice drifting further away. [y/n] kept looking.
“So I’ve got some bad news, I don’t have any oil down here;” ,” Bo said as he re-entered the store, wiping his hands down on a grease rag, “Good news though, I got my restock shipment in yesterday and just haven’t gotten around to bringing it down from the house. I’m more than willing to let you wait here while I go up to to get what you need, but you look like you need something to drink.”
[y/n] thought it over. This would mark the second time in less than 24 hours that he went somewhere with a random stranger, but at least this time he knew the guy’s name.
Well, the south is known for its hospitality, so I might as well go and get something to drink.
“I’d really appreciate something to drink and thank you so much for the help,” [y/n] said, suddenly aware that his mouth felt like it was full of glue.
The pair were about halfway to the house, when [y/n] finally felt the need to ask about the suit.
“Okay so, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but why are you wearing a suit? Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Bo stopped moving at [y/n]’s question and seemed to consider a few possible answers before he nodded to himself and kept walking.
“Well, it’s not the heat that gets you, it’s the humidity,” he chuckled to himself, “and uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “My mom passed on, was at her service.”
“Bo, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave town,” [y/n] couldn’t help but feel intense sympathy for Bo.
He left his mom’s funeral to help me get some oil so I can get back on the road. Holy shit.
They walked in silence for the rest of the day, [y/n] was unsure how to comfort this stranger, so he just followed the other man’s lead. Silence.
Bo unlocked the door when they got up on the step and lead [y/n] into the house.
“Washroom is down the hall if you need it, the door should be open,” Bo motioned towards the washroom, “Make yourself at home.”  
With that, Bo was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of sweet tea. [y/n] decided to take Bo up on his offer of a washroom. Once the door was shut, he fought with his binder for a minute, before finally getting it off his chest, letting it hang loosely around his neck. At this point, it just felt good to take a few deep breaths. After a few minutes passed, [y/n] pulled his binder back into place, swore he’d keep it off until he hit the next rest stop, then went back out into the house and met Bo in the kitchen.
Bo handed [y/n] the glass of sweet tea, condensation already beading on the sides. Nice and cold and incredibly sweet, it even tasted southern. And a bit salty. [y/n] had never had homemade sweet tea before, so he assumed that maybe that just happened sometimes with the tea when it cooled.
The room started to sway.
“Hey, [y/n] maybe you should sit down, looks like the heat is getting to you,” Bo said, worry in his voice, but a smile on his lips, “maybe you ought to lay down for a bit.”
Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.
That was weird, he tried to say it out loud, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Bo helped [y/n] to sit on the couch and as his vision started to darken, [y/n] swore he saw another person enter the room.
When [y/n] came to, he realized a few things in short order. It was much darker, he was not on the couch, and he was restrained to the metal table he way laying on. Ever the optimist, he was thankful for the fact that he still had his clothes on and also for the fact it was much cooler wherever he was.
A tall man with long dark hair entered his line of sight. [y/n] had a few ideas of things to yell at him, but instead, took a different approach.
“So, either I’ve been asleep for a really long time, or you’re not Bo,” [y/n] said, turning his head to get a better look at the man. The man’s shoulders shook, like he was laughing without the noise.
Okay so he can’t talk. Noted.
The man turned around to face the table and made sure his hands were in clear view as he signed, “Vincent.”
The motions were smooth and [y/n] caught it near immediately.
“Vincent is a nice name,” he mused, giving Vincent a charming smile of his own, “I’m [y/n]. Now, I do have a few questions, mainly, why am I tied up?”
Vincent turned his back on [y/n] and went back to preparing the paralytic, deciding to make it a bit stronger so the man on the table wouldn’t have to be awake for the worst of it. When he turned around and [y/n] saw the needle, the reality of the situation began to sink in and things snapped into focus.
“Hey Vincent, I don’t know what’s in that needle, but I promise you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re about to do,” [y/n] tried to keep his voice level as he squirmed and fought against the restraints, “I know we don’t know each other, but I swear you don’t need to do this.”
Vincent watched him writhe on the table and considered his options.
“Please, can we talk this out, please,” [y/n] continued to beg, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and bruises already forming at both his wrists and his ankles from the jerking around. Desperation in one hell of a drug, because in no other situation could [y/n] see himself saying, “I’ll do anything to convince you.”
Vincent set the syringe back down and walked up to the head of the table and gripped [y/n]’s jaw and turned his head to make sure he saw when he signed “Are you sure?” he drew it out to emphasize the importance of the question.
Was [y/n] sure? No. No he wasn’t, but he wasn’t in a place that allowed many options. Behind door one? Death! Behind door two? A questionable fate that could very well still end in death!
Yeah, I’ll go with door number two, please.
[y/n] nodded, Vincent’s hand still not leaving his jaw.
Vincent considered the situation for a moment. He considered the number of girls that Bo had brought to him after he had had his way with them at the station. Girls had never really been Vincent’s speed.  There were plenty of attractive guys who had come through, but mostly they were either already dead or just spit curses at him. [y/n] was different. No threats, no insults, he was shockingly calm, all things considered. Vincent stroked up and down the side of [y/n]’s face, bringing his hand into the smaller man’s hair and pulling, eliciting a soft whimper.
“I want you to show me,” Vincent signed before undoing the restraints at [y/n]’s ankles. As for his hands? His hands were going to stay bound, but a change of position was still needed. Vincent kept eye contact with [y/n] as he undid his wrists.
[y/n] sat up on the table, moving slowly as to not startle Vincent. The last thing he wanted was to scare the guy who probably had a half dozen ways to kill him in arms reach. His wrists ached and were bleeding in some places. He rubbed at his sore joints before Vincent snapped his fingers, pointed directly at him, then down at the floor near his boot clad feet.
[y/n] had the opportunity to make a run for it, but instead knelt at Vincent’s feet. Vincent put his hand out and without thinking, [y/n] rested the side of his face against it. Vincent’s face burned beneath his mask, that was not what he needed the man to do. He pulled his hand away and gently slapped at the kneeling man’s face, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that that was not the desired action. The kneeling man was a quick learner and when Vincent put his hand out again, he reluctantly placed his wrists in the larger man’s hands.
[y/n] was not thrilled at this situation, but he was also a simple man, and for all the terror in the situation, Vincent was a large man with shockingly soft hands that were big enough to envelop both of his wrists, who had complete control over the situation. Should he be getting wet due to the situation? Absolutely not, but in the one psychology class he took in high school, it was mentioned that fear and arousal were close together in the brain.
Vincent saw the bruising and blood on the smaller man’s wrists and was careful when he rebound them. Sure, he was planning on killing the guy, but his plans had changed. He threaded a rope and carefully suspended his wrists so that his wrists would remain above his head.
[y/n]’s first thought was that Vincent wanted head. Most guys he had met enjoyed getting head, so it did make sense. He carefully pressed his cheek against the man’s crotch and nuzzled against it, then looked up and into Vincent’s eyes for any sign. Instead, Vincent just lifted his knee and pushed [y/n] off of him like he was a disobedient dog.
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as to what he wanted, if not a blow job. He was further confused when Vincent lifted his boot clad foot and pressed it into the smaller man’s pelvic bone, hard.
Oh.
The pressure of it was enough to lift him up just a little bit more and it had him wetter than he thought he could be in a situation like this. He pressed down onto the shoe and began to grind against it, shamelessly chasing the friction it created.
Vincent groaned. His cock twitched as he watched the man’s lewd display. He didn’t want [y/n] to touch him, not yet. There was still the chance that could go horribly wrong, what Vincent wanted was to see exactly how desperate the man was. Vincent began to palm himself, stroking through the fabric of his pants while he watched.
The answer was very. [y/n] was very desperate. [y/n] was desperate not to die and now, now he was also desperate to cum. He pressed himself harder against the toe of Vincent’s boot and rutted against it, groaning loudly when it pressed up against that bundle of nerves. He began to fall into a rhythm that hit every sensitive spot he could reach.
Vincent’s hand was now in his pants as he stroked himself to the same rhythm [y/n] was fucking himself to. God,  Vincent thought to himself, this man was making an absolute whore of himself. It might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Could make work slightly less taxing. Then the bound man made a sound that snapped Vincent out of his thoughts and almost made him cream his pants.
He was getting so close, he had thrown himself so into chasing his high that he almost forgot that the circumstances that brought him to this were less than desirable. He pressed began to rotate his hips so that bundle of nerves caught significantly more pressure and more friction. He let out a loud, needy whine.
“Please Vincent, please tell me I can cum, I’ve been such a good boy, please God, Vincent,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he was babbling and begging for a different release now. Vincent bucked into his own hand, listening to the whines and pleas.
Tears were starting to form in [y/n]’s eyes again, he was trying so hard to be good for Vincent, trying so hard to be his good boy. Sure, less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible, but God, he was so close to cumming and he just needed Vincent to tell him he had been good. Hadn’t he been good enough to deserve release?
Vincent pressed his crotch against [y/n]’s face and continued to jack himself off. He didn’t want the man’s mouth, but he wanted the proximity. He was so close to his own release. So so close, all he needed was-
“Oh GOD, sir please, I’ve been so good for you, please sir. Tell me I’ve been a good boy for you, tell me I’m your good boy, please sir; oh my God, please, please,” [y/n] continued to babble, now crying for release against Vincent’s aching cock.
Yeah, that just about did it for him. Vincent’s orgasm took him hard and left a sizable stain that leaked into the front of his pants and against the begging man’s face. Vincent closed his eyes, lost in his own release. When things snapped back into focus, he realized the other man was still whining pitifully, still having not came.
Vincent had to admit, he was impressed at the man’s willpower, it was oddly attractive to him that the man refused to grant himself pleasure without permission. This could actually work out wonderfully, Vincent thought to himself.
He took the rope in his free hand and yanked on it hard enough to knock the [y/n] off balance. He looked up at Vincent as he tried to regain balance. Vincent let go of the rope and let him drop onto his knees, but his eyes were still locked on his masked face.
Vincent thought about it for a moment before signing “I want you to cum.”
That was all [y/n] needed to hear before going back to rutting against the shoe, quickly going over the edge and coating the toe of the boot in his fluids. He braced himself against Vincent’s leg, mumbling thank yous as he came back down. Vincent allowed this to go on for a short while, before cutting the rope and pressing [y/n]’s face down to the still wet boot.
Vincent used one hand to yank [y/n]’s hair to make the blissed out man look up at him, with the other hand, he calmly signed “Clean it up.”
68 notes · View notes
thosewickedlovelies · 3 years
Text
The answer  |  Frankie Morales x GN!Reader x Santiago Garcia
Summary: Questions are asked and answered. Takes place immediately following “Ask me”
Rating: E for Explicit
Tags: SMUT, threesome, reader is penetrated; best friends who have always been a little bit in love with each other vibes (inspired by this photo)
Word Count: 1,743
A/N: I’ve been kinda wanting to challenge myself to do a gender-neutral smut piece, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so :) I’ve never written anything like this before (in terms of both the gender-neutrality and the gay vibes), so I’m open to (gentle) constructive criticism <3
--
“Worry about me later, baby,” Frankie urges. “Right now what I want is to take care of you.” Nectar drips from his voice like that fateful fruit, slicking your descent toward sweet surrender.
"Or watch me take care of you, anyway,” Santiago adds. Still crouched on his knees before you, lips glistening, the round of his spine suggests laser-focus, a predator about to pounce. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but the look in eyes is deferent as he glances over your shoulder to Frankie.
Your partner’s body enfolds you like a silk hammock, a warm, rippling sea in which you have no fear of drowning. Frankie’s chest is bare and smooth against your back, supporting you as if he’s only here to reinforce your pleasure, and not partake of it himself. Although if his words from moments ago were any indication, he was indeed getting his own enjoyment:
“Too good to me, baby,” murmured through sloppy kisses and removing clothes.
“Fuck, you look so good between us,” groaned into your ear while you squirmed, callused fingers on your nipples and Santi's mouth on your neck.
“Yeah, let me hear you,” satisfaction barely audible over the irrepressible moan that Santi drew from you as he slowly worked you open.
Meaningfully Frankie skates his palms down over your hips, dipping tantalizingly close to the burning between them before winging away. Fingers digging into the plush flesh, he spreads your thighs for Santi.
Again. The air vanishes from your lungs at Frankie’s gesture.
He keeps you pinned open as Santiago inches forward and you’re certain you’re trembling, even as fresh arousal wells in anticipation. This feels so much more, somehow- suddenly immediate and undeniable that you’re really here, about to be fucked by your boyfriend’s best friend while said boyfriend holds you open for him.
Perhaps because this isn’t just affecting you. You note, through the throbbing heat demanding your attention, the tension in Frankie’s body framing you. How careful Santi is about where he places his hands- on you or the couch, no longer bold and teasing with Frankie. The skitter of his gaze, like he doesn’t know quite where to focus now that he’s facing both of you so directly. You wonder where Frankie is looking.
When Santi is finally nestled to the base inside you, an inch for every panting breath, you’re not the only shaky one. His muscles quiver with the effort of holding himself over you, the feeling of you engulfing him threatening to overwhelm his good sense. For a moment there is only the strained rise and fall of your chests as both men wait for you to adjust. It’s akin to being rocked by the swells of an ocean, only in this case your anchor is Santiago, keeping his hips flush with yours, keeping you present on the delicious, searing stretch of his cock.
Frankie’s tongue on your neck makes you shiver, and Santi gasps when you clench around him. Smiling, you admire the gleam of sweat at his temples, the desperate lines around his squeezed-shut eyes. It’s difficult to maneuver yourself in this position, but you arch your body into his as best you can, giving him permission to move with a squeeze of his muscular ass.
A raspy laugh slips from him. It’s a bit clumsy at first- accommodating to the weave of limbs in which the three of you are entangled. Possibly this would be easier on a bed or even the floor, but it’s far too late to move now, lost in each other as you are. You know the boys would agree- even if you had the opportunity to be transported with merely a snap of the fingers, it feels right that this should happen here, on a slightly cramped couch, stifling smiles and snorts of laughter but never your eagerness for each other.
Santiago is impossibly beautiful like this. Every hard-earned muscle on display, working in harmony to the cadence that’s always swayed the three of you, however unconsciously. His eyes half-lidded and hazy, his little groans of effort and pleasure complementing Frankie’s caresses. It’s clear from Frankie’s own awed murmurs that he’s experiencing the same bliss you are, and he lets his hands linger on your front so his knuckles brush Santi’s torso. Like strings on a loom pulling gradually tighter, the design you three are creating becomes steadily clearer.
“Damn,” Frankie says hoarsely. The angle of your head prevents you from seeing his expression fully, but you make a wordless sound of wholehearted agreement.
“Mm?” Santiago hums in question despite his own daze, spying something in Frankie’s face that you missed.
“Just…it’s obvious which one of us aged better.”
Frankie’s voice is strained, his body tense. He’s been hard since the moment Santiago said yes, but a tangible slippery patch has grown against your back while the other man rocked in and out of you, long, measured strokes making an easy smear of Frankie’s cock.
Santi looks up, startled. Then his smile crooks. “Shut up, Frank,” he laughs, and the kiss to your shoulder doesn’t feel like it’s for you.
Frankie chuckles, raspy and affectionate, and it’s like the picture is finally identifiable, an outline of this potential future woven clear.
The turn of your head gets their attention. Santiago slows his hips as you stretch your neck toward Frankie, his lips just reachable in this position. But Santi’s thrusts still entirely when you face him next, your kiss brim-full of the same contentment you’d given Frankie. Something fraught flickers between the two men when you pull back; Santiago looks almost shy as, hesitantly and then all at once, he presses his lips to the corner of Frankie’s mouth for a lingering, reverent second.
Frankie’s eyes close and his head tips back as Santi drops his forehead to your shoulder. His curls catch on the bristly hair of Frankie’s jaw, steady, rhythmic again, and you’re not sure of the delineations between your bodies anymore. You feel full, in more ways than one, surrounded both physically and emotionally.
Frankie’s moans are music to your ears as you reach behind you, stroking his cock as best you can while semi-laying on it. Fuck, his husky sounds never fail to heat your blood- a new experience for Santiago, you’re guessing, from the way his eyes flare, fixed on his friend’s dropped-open mouth. There’s been no particular hurry to your activities thus far, but a sense of urgency is growing now, blossoming with every drag of skin on skin, every throaty plea weighting the humid air.
It’s not long before Santi’s grasp on your shoulder slips, flushed with sweat as you are. Fumbling, he braces himself on Frankie’s broader frame, and your partner holds his hand in place, unthinking. Santiago swears. He looks you over, eyes a little wild, then back up at Frankie, imploring.
Obliging, Frankie’s other hand snakes down your front, fingers searching, circling where you’re most sensitive. Distantly you’re aware of him rutting against your back, tiny whines scraping his throat with a familiar desperation. Everything in you tightens around the slick jerk of his fingers.
You cry out as you come, hips arching into Santiago, flattening Frankie’s hand between you. Santi gasps ragged and guttural as you spasm around him, and your rapture careens abruptly higher at the speed and force with which he’s suddenly slamming into you. A jumble of hands hold your shuddering frame in place as Santiago finds his own release, shoving the three of you impossibly deeper into each other.
For a moment it feels as if you’re floating, your body tethered only by the bruising clutch of your hands and theirs. As your awareness returns, you notice that Frankie is rigid behind you, still quivering, his lower half contorted as if to gain as much contact with your skin as possible.
Oh. There’s far too much wetness against your back for it to just be sweat.
A giddy, dreamy laugh wisps from your next exhale. Frankie doesn’t react, but Santi rolls his head to face you with a drowsy hm?
You disentangle one of your hands and lift it to gently rub Frankie’s scalp with your fingertips, tousling the curls as if scratching a pet’s ears. “Just glad we were all able to make it.” Your still-breathless tone carries your meaning. You twist your head to kiss the nearest bit of him, which happens to be his jaw.
Santi lifts his head, his expression somewhere between surprised and smug. Frankie only gives an airy shrug, inclining his head to mouth at your shoulder; the space now shared by both men’s faces.
“Meant what I said,” Frankie offers in his low voice. His gaze flits over what it can reach of Santiago’s naked body.
Surprise completely overtakes the smugness in Santi’s face, his mouth curving up as if he’s powerless to stop it. You observe in delighted disbelief. You know from experience how much it normally takes to make Santiago blush- yet here he is, all afluster at a few words from Frankie. Chuckling, Santi ducks his head again.
You wriggle sideways slightly so as to better see more of Frankie’s face, a shift that results in Santi leaning on him with his whole arm and flank. The thoughtful flicker of his eyes over Frankie’s further exposed torso doesn’t go unnoticed.
“We’ll see,” is all Santiago says; but his contentment is palpable, his tiny smile a confession. Frankie relaxes as the other man collapses again, this time with his head more on Frankie’s shoulder than yours.
The sun is past its peak now, longer shadows interrupting its shine through the windows, but the three of you don’t need it. You can all but see the afterglow illuminating, the way the filaments of a lantern gradually brighten as they warm, casting gentle light on the possibilities presented here.
You regard Santi with an indulgent smile. You sweep it up to Frankie next, softening at the sight of his unruly hair and the relief with which he returns it. There’s an unspeakable kind of gratitude mingling with the adoration in his eyes. As if his thanks could possibly be necessary; as if you would have ever denied either of them the opportunity to explore such long-contained feelings, no matter what your original proposition for this afternoon may have been.
“Next time,” Frankie murmurs, his lips brushing Santiago’s brow, “we’re doing this in a bed.”
--
Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb
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qqueenofhades · 4 years
Text
Okay, y'all. Time to do this one more time. Let the fact that there are so many of these posts right now reinforce the point. Many of you already know this, and I see and love you, but for anyone still ~undecided about their choice, should they be an American citizen of voting age on November 3, 2020:
Time to not be. It was time a long, long while ago, but I am going to have to say it again.
Primary season is over. The endless fine-tooth combing of candidates' policies and positions is over. We are all deeply well aware that the candidates on the Democratic ticket, being human beings and establishment politicians, are flawed. "BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS POSITION FROM 19/ 20-WHENEVER AS JUSTIFICATION FOR WHY IT'S TERRIBLE TO VOTE FOR -- "
No. Stop. Just stop. Stop threatening to hold the rest of us hostage, in the middle of a pandemic, the Great Depression, and racial inequality and protests on a scale not seen from the 1960s, because you did not get Barbie Dream Candidate. That is the behavior of terrorists and toddlers. If your supposedly enlightened morally pure ideology does not involve any action to mitigate the harm that is directly in front of you, it isn't worth a shit as an ideology actually devoted to helping people. If your approach to politics is to shout about how Pure your ideas are on twitter and tear down anyone working within a system of flawed choices to do the good that they can: you're not helping, and frankly, your constant threats to withhold your suffrage as a punishment to us aren't convincing the rest of us that we really need to listen to you or that you have anyone's best interests at heart. The Online Left TM is as much a vacuous, self-reinforcing noise chamber as the Online Right TM, and can sometimes tend to be even more dangerous.
I was saying this in 2016. A lot of us were saying this in 2016. I am just about to turn 32 years old and have been voting in federal elections for almost 15 years. For what it's worth.
This is not an ordinary election. This is not a contest between two flawed candidates who respect the system and want to work to enact their policies in the ordinary way. One is a flawed 90s era Democrat who nonetheless has already been pushed CONSIDERABLY left in his policies and platforms since the end of the primaries (and his existing platform would already make him the most left president elected, even more than Obama). The other is a fascist dictator who has openly spoken about refusing to accept the election results, his desire to abolish term limits and serve for life, and complete the pillaging of any remaining fragile American public funds for him and his cult of cronies. He does not respect the system. He does not want to do anything for anyone that is not himself. 160,000 and counting needless deaths of American citizens have already happened. Will keep happening.
This is the last time Trump has to face voters. This is the last chance the country has to repudiate his entire poisonous ideology and its marching Nazi minions. IF he steps aside, which is already far from guaranteed, he can ride off into the sunset as a vindicated two term president and probably be rehabilitated like George W. Bush was within a few years of leaving office. American political memory is very short. It will happen. Again, if he even leaves.
RBG is 87 and has cancer again. She will NOT survive another four years. Stephen Breyer is 81. Their seats could both come up in the next four years. The Supreme Court could be a right wing rubber stamp for whatever time we all have left before climate change and coronavirus kill us all.
"But if people just thought for themselves and did their homework and didn't vote the party line like sheep, we could support a third party/write in -- " Stop. Just stop. Attend a ninth grade civics class and learn about how politics work in America. Yes, the two-party system sucks. Yes, the Electoral College is a hot steaming pile of absolute bullshit. Magical unicorn fairy dust fantasies WILL NOT change that.
Do not vote for Kanye (who has pretty much openly admitted he is trying to play spoiler to Biden on behalf of his buddy Trump). Do not vote for godforsaken fucking Gary Johnson or Jill Stein who appear on ballots just to give sanctimonious leftists the illusion of virtue-signaling. If you want any chance of fixing the mess that 2020 has left America and the world in, you need to vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. The end.
Biden is a flawed old man who was our last choice, sure. He is also a distinguished public servant who has already been in the White House for eight years under Obama and thus we KNOW what to expect. He is an empathetic man who connects with people's personal tragedy and picked as his running mate a younger Black/biracial woman who directly confronted and called him out on past behavior. While the pundit class was simpering and whining about how it was Disrespectful and how could he consider her, Biden did so, and that speaks well to me of the fact that he is willing to learn, to take criticism, and not just accept it from a former Black female rival, but make her his second in command and the potential first female president of the United States.
Can you EVER picture Trump doing that? Not in eight thousand million years.
As for Kamala, we are all aware of her previous checkered history as a prosecutor (and even then, she did plenty of good things as well!). Since joining the Senate, however, she has consistently become one of its most progressive members. She is the co-sponsor of an economic aid package designed to give every American $2,000/month, backdated to March (the start of the coronavirus pandemic) and continuing at least a few months after its end. A Biden-Harris White House could make that happen. Especially if they are put into office with a Democratic House and Senate (for the love of God, Kentucky, kill Mitch McConnell with fire). That is just one example.
Harris's nomination is obviously historic. And Biden didn't choose another Biden (or another Tim Kaine, the blandest white man imaginable). He chose another Obama: a younger rising star of an immigrant background, a person of color, a former lawyer and someone who represents the diversity of the country that the white supremacists and the Cheeto in Chief have tried to paint as its worst and most degenerate evil.
A vote for Biden and Harris means getting rid not just of Trump, but Mike Pence, Vladimir Putin, Jared Kushner, Betsy Devos, the Trump crony destroying the Postal Service, the rampant coronavirus misinformation and bullshit, the destruction of Social Security and Medicare, the spread of Nazi propaganda from the President's twitter account, the likely two Supreme Court picks that would be as bad as Brett Kavanaugh or worse... on and on. Biden and Harris would be elected by progressive voters and thus answerable to them in 2022 midterms and 2024 general. They can both be, and already have been, pushed further left. They are reasonable and competent adults who have demonstrated experience and compassion. I KNOW about their flaws and past actions I don't agree with. But I'm frankly done with any more counterproductive straw man bitching about This One Bad Thing They Did and how it makes it a terribad awful choice to vote for them. Open your eyes. Look at the alternative. LOOK AT WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED AND THE FACT THAT THIS IS NOT EVEN AS BAD AS IT COULD STILL GET.
Check your registration or register at vote.gov.
DO NOT LOOK AT POLLS AND DECIDE "EH BIDEN IS CLEARLY GOING TO WIN, I DON'T NEED TO VOTE." THAT IS HOW WE LOST LAST TIME.
Unseating incumbents is HARD. It is even harder when the other side has openly laid out their plan to cheat in great detail, and there is nothing really stopping them from doing it. The only thing, in fact, is massive, unfalsifiable results on an undeniable scale.
So:
Vote.
Vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.
Thanks a lot.
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rocorambles · 4 years
Text
Love Conquers All
Pairing: Yandere Nekomata x Kuroo 
Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Manipulation, Moral Degeneration, Overstimulation, Cock Stepping, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Chastity Cage, Humiliation
Summary: Usually the term “love conquers all” is a positive thing, a beautiful thing. But in the case of Kuroo Tetsurou, it’s a damning thing.
A/N: Thank you for supporting me in this cursed pursuit as always and helping me beta read this chaos @sawamooora 
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Life is different after his 18th birthday, after that night with Nekomata. He should feel empowered, older, wiser, more mature now that he’s an adult, especially an adult who’s had his first sexual experience. But all he feels is lost and confused, unsure what to make of that night and he’s flustered, shy, a bumbling mess around his coach, internally cursing himself but unable to do anything about how he’s acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush around the old man. 
Was it wrong to have slept with his coach? 
He knows there’s nothing wrong with the act itself, nothing wrong with a relationship between two men. But with his coach? Someone who he’s always seen as a father figure? Someone so much older than him? 
But could something so wrong feel that good? Kuroo blushes, biting his lower lip when he remembers the blinding pleasure he had felt that night, something stronger and more intense than any nights spent jacking himself off to photos of pretty girls. 
Really, it’s silly for Kuroo to be surprised when Nekomata easily picks up on the new awkward tension between the two of them - despite how hard the messy haired man tries to hide it. But he still jumps, stuttering and fumbling over words when the older man corners him in the equipment room late after practice one night, asking him what’s been bothering him. He’s still trying to muster up an excuse when a rough finger is pressed against his mouth, instantly silencing him and Kuroo flushes at how suddenly close Nekomata is to him. 
“Nothing has to change between us, Tetsurou. I don’t expect anything from you if that’s what you’re so worried about. I wouldn’t mind continuing things if that’s what you want, but clearly you need some time to work things out with yourself first. Why don’t you take some time to...explore.” 
Stiff with shock, Kuroo mindlessly accepts the plastic bag Nekomata carefully places in his hands, still unmoving even after the older man ruffles his hair fondly before leaving him in the room by himself. But when he finally finds the nerve to open the bag and peek at its contents, he squeaks, trembling hands picking up the bottle of lube and the prostate vibrator before hurriedly dropping it back in the bag and shoving the parcel to the bottom of his sports bag.
The hidden package weighs heavily on his mind, embarrassment and intrigue swirling in a chaotic mess within him as he makes his way back home, taking a shower and freshening up from practice. The pressure of the pouring water soothes him, the steam wafting across his exhausted body relaxes him, and curiosity has his cock twitching as he dries himself off - carefully locking his door behind him before rummaging through his sports bag and pulling out the gifts. 
It’s...intimidating to say the least, to do this himself, no guide or encouragement to usher him along. And he feels incredibly exposed and vulnerable as he gets face down, ass up on his own bed, whimpering at the strange feeling of the cool slippery liquid coating his fingers, jolting when he comes in contact with his own tight puckered hole. It feels strange, but in a good way, and before he knows it, he’s panting as he circles his rim, teasing the edge and slowly applying pressure to the center, gasping when his first knuckle finally slips inside of him. Precum oozes from his tip as he groans from how tight his ass clenches and clamps down on just one finger, slowly shoving more and more of the digit in until he bottoms out. 
Then it’s all repeated as he works a second finger in, drool dripping from his open mouth as he begins to scissor his fingers, spreading open his passage the way he remembers Nekomata doing that night, cock rocking up and down with every shift of his weight. He feels full, something satisfying and arousing about having his fingers shoved up his own loosened ass. But it’s not enough and tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes as he desperately reaches and searches for that spot inside of him, the one that had wracked him with so much pleasure. 
But it’s no good, and the tears stream down his face as he wildy shakes his hips and humps the bed, desperate for the same addicting pleasure he had felt that night. In the midst of his writhing, something digs into his body uncomfortably and he looks for the cause, only to be greeted by the other device Nekomata had provided.
He whines as he pulls his fingers out, feeling empty and spread open, hole fluttering as he liberally applies more lube to the extension of the device that will go inside of him. But he cries out, eyes shooting open, back arching when he inserts the massager inside of him fully, the tip brushing against his prostate, both hands grasping the bed sheets tightly to ground himself. 
It feels exactly how he remembers it from that night and he nervously picks up the remote that had come with the vibrator, unsure how much more stimulation he can take. He’s already feeling close to the edge from all of his earlier foreplay and the toy currently nudging and pressing against his sensitive spot. And sure enough, he’s instinctively screaming, furiously burying his face into the bed to muffle his loud cries as the vibrations start, mercilessly assaulting his prostate, and his hand reaches to his leaking throbbing cock, body convulsing and eyes rolling back into his head as he cums all over his hand, his stomach, and the sheets, collapsing in his own mess, lewd moans still being forced past his lips as he scrambles to find the remote that will end his delicious suffering. 
He slumps down into the bed, post-coital bliss washing over him. But as the pleasure ebbs away, he grimaces at the stickiness of his cum on his skin, whining in discomfort as he pulls the cold hard toy out of him, curling in on himself as disgust and loneliness replace any pleasure he had felt. And he can’t help but wish someone was there with him right now, mind going back to Nekomata and how he had gently cleaned up Kuroo and held him close after their time together.
Even so, he doesn’t stop using the gifts, finding at least some temporary bliss from the pleasure they provide him, even if the empty loneliness that overwhelms him after each time feels like it’s slowly killing him. And it’s only made worse the more time he spends with Nekomata.
Kuroo’s always been known for being perceptive, but he wonders if he’s now just paranoid when it comes to the older man, swearing that it feels like his eyes are always on him, trailing after him at practice, sweeping over the length of his body and facial features. But he hates how much he enjoys it, hates how he unconsciously flaunts his body even more in front of his coach, hates how his heart soars with all the generous praises Nekomata lavishes upon him these days, hates how he melts into every subtle touch those rough hands gift him with at seemingly every waking moment they’re together. 
It only makes him needier and as he furiously pounds his own ass, turns the prostate massager to its highest setting, he imagines Nekomata’s face leering down at him, his voice praising him, telling him how gorgeous and wrecked he looks, his fingers caressing his body.    
Nekomata smiles when the usually bold captain hesitantly lingers behind as the rest of the team leaves, patiently waiting for his shy kitten to tentatively make his way towards him on long lean legs, noting how adorable he looks as he fidgets in front of him. 
“Can I help you with something, Tetsurou?”
Kuroo is really too predictable for all his reputation as a scheming captain. It was so easy to play him, digging into the praise kink he’d discovered the younger man had, resting his hand on the boy’s head, shoulder, back, subtly brushing the swell of his ass when he passed by. He had been pleasantly surprised by how receptive Kuroo was to all of it, almost kitten-like in the way he instinctively leaned into his touches, peering at him with a twinkle in his eyes with every nice word sent his way and it had taken everything in him not to accost the boy more...aggressively for all his accidental teasing. 
But he’s glad he waited, smirking at how hopeful and wanting hazel eyes already look when he pulls him into his lap, letting Kuroo kiss and explore his body all over again, sitting back and letting the eager athlete get his fill. And God, if this isn’t the most beautiful sight in the world, long sinewy limbs wrapped around him, a tight ass clamping down on his cock, Kuroo’s face broken in ecstasy as he desperately bounces on his lap like a wanton whore, chanting his name over and over again.
He almost misses his shy kitten. Almost. But there’s something darkly amusing about what a slut he’s turned the model student into and he has to fight back a chuckle every time he likens the slutty man shaking his hips in front of him to a cat in heat. It becomes routine for the two of them and the last footsteps of the rest of the team are barely out the gym door after practice before needy hands are clinging onto him, a long lean body draped over him, Kuroo’s voice whining and begging for his cock, his cum, his help in making him feel good. 
It’s flattering and filthy how content Kuroo looks even with just his pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, how debauched and aroused he gets from being covered in cum, a cute pout on his lips when Nekomata tells him he needs to clean off the sticky white liquid painting his handsome face. But it’s exhausting and Nekomata isn’t in his prime anymore and even if he were in his prime, he’s not sure if he’d be able to keep up with Kuroo’s libido. 
Who knew the tall captain would be such a sex-crazed mess? It’s like he was made to be used.    
So he gets creative, finding new ways to sate Kuroo’s never ending appetite, leaning back and resting in his office chair as Kuroo writhes on the floor, well as much as he can when his body is bound in a hogtie, ball gag in his mouth to keep his volume manageable, blindfold over his eyes to add to the stimulation as the prostate massager in his ass and the vibrators on his cock and nipples relentlessly buzz and force him into orgasm after orgasm, only releasing him when his body stills aside from uncontrollable twitches here and there, smiling at the boy’s dopey and blissed out face as he hinges on the border of passing out from the torrential pleasure. 
But maybe he had spoiled the boy too much and his brows furrow in concern when he’s contacted by Kuroo’s academic teachers about a significant drop in his grades, annoyance flaring inside of him when they tentatively question if maybe he should quit volleyball or at least take it less seriously. After all, it is his third year and he needs to think about college. But he politely reassures them that Kuroo will be just fine juggling sports and academics, that he’s just going through...something at the moment and he’s prepared to interrogate his captain about what this “something” is, sternly and expectantly waiting for Kuroo to come out of the locker room with the rest of the team so he can pull him aside to have a word. 
Except Kuroo doesn’t come out even as the rest of the team begins to stretch. Hell, even Kenma is already out on the court and he angrily barks at the team to warm-up as he storms over to see exactly what the hold up is. 
For a second he wonders if Kuroo had left, the locker room eerily vacant and quiet, but he spots the captain’s sports bag and snoops around the room. And fury like he’s never felt before crackles through him when he hears the oh so familiar lewd moans and whimpers coming from the bathroom stall in the far corner. If he weren’t in such a foul mood, he might’ve laughed at the high-pitched yelp Kuroo lets out when he pounds on the bathroom door, demanding that he open up. But he only sees red when his captain sheepishly opens the door, shoving the half-naked boy back into the stall and locking it once again behind him as he crosses his arms and glares down at the depraved mess in front of him, noting how three fingers are still shoved in his ass, his other hand wrapped around his leaking and erect cock. 
“YOUR team is out there working their ass off and you’re here doing what? Jacking off like an animal with no self-control? Did you know your teachers called me, telling me about your grades dropping? They want you to quit volleyball so you can focus on college applications. Is that what you want? Want to stop playing volleyball? Want to drop out of school? Want to just be a common whore?”  
At least the boy has the sense to look ashamed, tears pooling in his eyes as he sniffles and pulls his hands away from himself, placing them by his sides in clenched fists. But it’s not enough and Kuroo wails when Nekomata’s sneaker clad foot steps on his still erect cock, grinding the hard shaft under the heel of his sole. 
“Cum then, since you obviously want to so badly. Enjoy it while you can because starting tomorrow, you won’t be able to play with your little cock whenever you want to anymore.” 
Kuroo can’t even fathom the threat, not when his mind is delirious with pleasure and humiliation from the front row view of his cock being trampled on by his coach’s shoe, and really, it’s pathetic how quickly he cums, making a mess all over himself and the sneaker still digging into his groin. But he fights the desire to just melt in post-coital bliss, scrambling to lick Nekomata’s shoe clean, as per the older man’s growled orders, frantically nodding his head and wincing at the harsh smack planted on his ass as he passes the old man when he’s told to go to practice and act like the captain that he is. 
If Kuroo’s being entirely honest, he had completely forgotten exactly what Nekomata had said to him, too caught up in chasing his happy ending to fully comprehend the punishment in store for him. So it’s a shocking surprise the next day after practice when the older man holds up a tiny baby pink chastity cock cage, and smugly looks on as despair and regret washes over Kuroo’s usually confident features, reveling in how the taller man falls to his knees and begs him not to do this. 
“It’s too small! There’s no way my cock will fit in that. It’ll hurt!”
“You give yourself too much credit, Tetsurou. Your little cute thing you call a cock is going to fit just fine in here.” 
Nekomata smiles at the way Kuroo flinches upon hearing his degrading words, rolling his eyes as Kuroo tries another tactic, promising him that he’ll behave, that he’ll get his grades back up, that he’ll be a better captain. 
“You know how I feel about empty words, Tetsurou. Prove it to me through your actions. When you show me you can get your act back together, I’ll unlock you. It’s as simple as that.” 
He raises one eyebrow when the boy’s rebellious bratty side decides to make its appearance, unamused as Kuroo hisses at him like an angry kitten, telling him he doesn’t need to listen to him, that he can’t force him. But he smiles at how docile and quick to quiet the boy is when he just shrugs his shoulders, telling him that he’s never touching him again unless he listens. Nekomata can see the internal struggle in those gorgeous hazel eyes as Kuroo’s pride and his desire for love and intimacy battle for victory. 
But love conquers all once again and he fondly smiles as Kuroo shuffles in between his legs, downcast but pliant as Nekomata encases his flaccid cock in the pink cage. He secures the contraption with a click of the padlock attached to the opening, letting Kuroo sadly watch as he hangs the key on a chain around his neck, safely tucking it under the collar of his shirt. 
 He lightens the mood as he pulls the captain’s body closer to him, teasingly swirling a finger around the boy’s puckered hole. 
“Don’t look so sad, Tetsurou. You still have this hole you can use.” 
And this time he doesn’t hold back his laughter when Kuroo’s jaw drops open in disbelief and embarrassment. 
Although it had been meant as a half joke, Kuroo does try to cum with just his ass, over and over again, desperate for any release he can find even if it more often than not results in him babbling and sobbing in frustration as his cock strains against its confines. Even when he is able to cum, it’s unsatisfying, leaving Kuroo even more needy as he cries from his ruined orgasms, the only proof that he still has a usable cock the strands of sticky semen that drip out from the hole of his pink prison.
Nekomata is quick to take advantage of his protege’s predicament, sneering down at the distraught mess that’s thrashing around on the floor, forced to cum from just his ass over and over again as the prostate massager vibrates against his sensitive insides, cock painfully and futilely straining once again to harden. He ignores Kuroo’s barely coherent pleas for him to unlock him, scowling at the still less than stellar exam he’s holding in his hands before he turns his stern look back to the whining mess on the floor. 
“Be grateful I’m even letting you cum at all with these pathetic grades, you stupid slut.” 
Kuroo has no choice but to thank the older man, even if he’s far from grateful as Nekomata pounds his ass and paints his insides white, keeping his seed inside the used athlete with a humiliatingly girly butt plug, dazzling with a gem heart on its tapered end.
But while the punishment the older man inflicts upon him in private is bad enough as is, what Kuroo truly fears are the days when he’s performed particularly poorly, when Nekomata is in a fouler mood than usual. And his heart drops when his phone vibrates early in the morning, a terse message for him to come to the gym before school starts displayed on the screen. 
Who knew Kuroo Tetsurou was such a cry baby? But he can’t help it as he sobs, fat salty drops trailing down his face while he bends over Nekomata’s desk, forced to accept the gaudy plug being worked into his fluttering ass filled with a fresh load of cum. 
He whimpers at the playful smack to his ass, his signal to stand up, and he obediently stays still as Nekomata’s hands teasingly fiddle with both the pink cage at his front and the shiny heart winking from his backhole, making sure both are snugly in place before pulling up the boy’s trousers. 
“Maybe you’ll be able to concentrate better with your ass filled. Don’t even think about taking that plug out. Do you understand? You’re going to think this punishment is easy if I don’t see my cum still inside of you after practice today.”
Kuroo wishes he could call the older man out on his bluff, but he knows how serious the threat is. No, not a threat, a promise. He shudders before fervently nodding his head in agreement, unwilling and unable to imagine how much worse his punishment could be or test his coach’s patience.        
But it’s not long before he wonders if there could be anything worse than this, gnawing at his lip as every step has the plug moving inside of him, the occasional nudges against his prostate making his cock twitch in interest, only to be uncomfortably reminded of how restrained it is. And sitting is even worse as multiple heads spin around to see where the startling loud gasp came from as Kuroo’s hands clench around his desk, sucking in deep breaths to calm himself as the new position, gravity, and the chair underneath him work together to push the plug even deeper inside of him, the tip relentlessly pressing against his prostate. 
He waves off his worried classmates and teachers to the best of his abilities, batting their concerns away with bold faced lies of sore muscles from practice, using every trick in the book to keep himself as relaxed and focused on his classes as possible. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and when he finds himself unable to stop his hips and ass from grinding down on the plug inside of him and rocking back and forth as his cock strains against its restraints, he rushes out of the classroom with a strangled excuse of going to the restroom. 
It’s pathetic how desperate he is, slamming the bathroom stall closed behind him as he pushes the toilet seat cover down, not wasting any time before he’s seated on top of the filthy thing, weight squarely centered on the plug inside of him as he bounces up and down, trying to find as much friction as he can without actually moving the toy. But it’s no good and before he knows it he’s full out sobbing, loud anguished cries echoing throughout the bathroom as he edges over and over again, unable to find any release, attracting the attention of his classmates who are quick to usher the distressed boy to the nurse’s office. 
There he finally finds some peace of mind when he forces himself to sleep, forcing his mind and body to completely shut down as the nurse draws the blinds around his bed, leaving him in his own private white cocoon. 
But he can’t sleep forever, can’t escape reality forever, and he blearily blinks as he’s gently shaken awake, only to practically fling himself into Nekomata’s arms when he sees the man at his bedside, incoherently sobbing anew and clinging onto his tormentor and savior. And when the old man successfully signs Kuroo out and reassures the nurse that he can handle things from here, he whisks his poor suffering boy away from prying eyes, cradling his long curled up form and gently praising him for being so good as he pulls out the plug, sharps eyes transfixed on the white trail that begins to slither down toned thighs.       
Kuroo’s always been a good student, a fast learner, and Nekomata beams in pride when Kuroo excitedly rushes into his office a few weeks later, a perfect score scrawled on top of his latest exam. He lets the taller man affectionately nuzzle against him and sloppily plant kisses all over his wrinkled face as agile hips grind and hump against him, practically demanding to be freed of the hellish contraption still cruelly denying him. 
How can he deny his good boy after he’s behaved so well? 
So he pulls the key from under his shirt, chuckling at how Kuroo squirms in his lap in excitement, a sparkling smile on his attractive face when the cage unlocks with a resounding click, panting and trembling as Nekomata slowly strokes his beautiful cock to its full erection. 
He lets Kuroo take his time, letting his kitten soak in the sensations of being stimulated from his front and back again as he sensually fucks him, letting Kuroo do most of the work as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth on top of him. The younger man’s hands dig into his shoulders as he takes one of Kuroo’s perky nipples into his mouth and uses one hand to continue stroking the athlete’s cock to completion. He smiles at how giddy and content the boy looks as he lets out a long drawn out moan, cumming all over his aged hands, and he helps him ride out his orgasm as he continues to stroke the messy slick covered shaft, finding his own release as he spills thick spurts inside of the pert ass clenching around his cock. 
But his smile takes on a mean sharp edge as Kuroo begins to squirm in discomfort, trying to pull away as overstimulation begins to kick in, only to wail when Nekomata just tightens his grip on the softening cock in his hands, forcing him to stay put and remain close to the older man, confused and pained mewls escaping the younger man as tears prick his eyes. 
“You didn’t think we were done already, did you? You’ve been begging me to unlock this cute little thing so much that I figured we should make as much use of it now that it’s free.” 
And make use of it he does, taking turns switching hands when they begin to cramp as he relentlessly milks Kuroo of anything he has left in him, cruelly laughing when he cums so much that his orgasms become dry, his cock unable to even fully harden anymore, his body shaking and trembling from exertion. 
When people think of Kuroo, they think of his cocky smirk, his confident demeanor, finding something incredibly attractive about the way he holds and presents himself. But Nekomata thinks he’s most beautiful like this, tears, snot, and drool streaming down his face, incoherent lewd noises filling the air as he babbles on and on, torn between moaning and begging him to stop, so weak, so pitiful, completely at his mercy, a mere plaything. 
But playtime is over and Nekomata sighs as he looks at the clock on the wall, yawning out of habit when he sees the late hour displayed and he smirks as Kuroo continues chanting “no more, no more, no more” between weak pleasured moans. 
“No more, Tetsurou? You sure? But you’ve been so adamant about wanting this. I thought you’d be happier about being unlocked, but I guess we can lock you back up in your pretty little cage if that’s what you really want.” 
Maybe he really had overdone it tonight, surprised by how there’s not even a pause as Kuroo frantically nods his head, pleas of “lock me up, please, anything you want, just no more, can’t take it anymore” slipping past his lips. 
Well, he asked for it and Nekomata gently locks his spent cock in the cage once again, patting Kuroo on the head as the exhausted boy slumps in his embrace and silently demands to be cared for and cuddled which he supposes is the least he can do after the torment he’s put the man through.   
It’s a mental rollercoaster there on out for Kuroo and he can’t tell what’s up or down anymore, doesn’t know what he wants anymore as he alternates between begging to be unlocked and crying for his cock to be locked away if it means he can take a break from the painful pleasure he's constantly  drowned in. And he just sobs harder when Nekomata shakes his head at him in exasperation, mocking him for never knowing what he wants, for always changing his mind, all the while coaxing more and more pleasure out of Kuroo’s exhausted body, breaking down any defiance or internal safeguards he has in place with every touch until all Kuroo wants is whatever relief and pleasure he can provide him, existing to keep the older man happy by any means possible if it means that he’ll be nice to Kuroo. 
And despite the tears, the confusion, the humiliation, it’s worth it, Kuroo thinks, when he’s being wrapped in warm arms and held to a cushy body, practically purring at the litany of praises Nekomata showers him with as he caresses and cleans the messy boy after yet another session together. 
But he blinks back to attention when Nekomata begins speaking. 
“Tetsurou, aren’t you tired of your fickle desires and always chasing after short-term pleasure? Don’t I always make you feel better? Give me total control of your body, when you get to cum, when you get to use your cute hole, when you get to use your adorable little cock and I’ll make sure you always feel good, okay? You might be a man now, but you’re still too young and inexperienced to know what you want. Trust me. After all, I have decades of experience on you.”
And suddenly he’s alert, lean frame tensing and eyes snapping wide open at the implication of his words. 
“But-but, you already decide all of that for me! What more do you want?"
Nekomata chuckles, coaxing the apprehensive man back into his arms, gently stroking Kuroo’s back just the way he knows he likes, smiling when the boy instinctively relaxes, melting into his touch. 
“That’s true, isn’t it? But from now on, no more begging for more or crying for me to stop. You’ll take what I give you and be grateful for it. It’s not about what you want. It’s about what I want, what I think is best for you.” 
He softens his tone when he sees the uncertainty swirling in those feline eyes, pressing his forehead against Kuroo’s messy bed hair. 
“You know I only want what’s best for you, right? You know I love you, right? I just hate seeing you so desperate and in tears all the time. Why don’t you let your pretty little head be free of all those worries? I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t that sound good?”
It- it does sound good. To not have to worry. To be loved. To be cared for. And Kuroo absentmindedly nods his head, nuzzling his face into Nekomata’s chest, long limbs reaching to further wrap and hold the older man closer to him, ignorant of the dark triumphant smirk spreading across his coach’s face, ignorant of how he’s sold his soul to the devil. 
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