#You never know when they will see your art

[applejuicebegood]

Could you possibly write some more headcanons for how Jason Todd would slowly warm up to affection? I know you mentioned it briefly in a previous post if I'm remembering correctly but I just need more on him possibly not even notices how his behavior around reader begins to change!!!! (This is all prior to a relationship)

A/N: Mmmmm very sweet indeed, I love writing for this idiot sm. Thank you so much for requesting dude! I really hope that you like it!!

Masterlist

He first thought of it as impossible that someone as soft and as sweet as you could ever fit into his life of grit, violence and blood. He knew you as an opposite - a total contrast to the rough edges that fitted his body and world. But love is stubborn, and so were you.

The first major change you unintentionally enacted was the bettering of his sleeping habits. After your fifth date, you asked if he had been sleeping enough and if everything was ok. Your concern bubbling over at the sight of his lush green eyes now sunken in by a surrounding deep purple. His shoulders were slumped forward and his steps stumbled as you walked next to him down the library shelves. He perked up, the sweet trill of your voice drawing him out from his drowsy state. He was used to pulling all-nighters, his job practically required it. But it was the first time he felt guilty about it. He laughed it off, assuring you that he just couldn't sleep the other night.

Only when he clicked his apartment door close after walking you home, did he reflect on how little he actually slept in general. And never wanting to see that fearful empathy in your eyes again, he started sleeping at least more than an hour each day. It took time to fight back the creeping guilt of supposedly neglecting his duties in protecting Gotham but he would rather revel in that guilt then make you worry about him.

Once you two started officially dating, the second major change was his discovering of his love of your touch. The quickness of your shoulders bumping or you playfully hitting his arm in a fit of laughter was the purest form of electricity and warmth burrowing into his skin and settling into his bones. Your gentleness was so foreign to him. His skin throbbing in bruises or his muscles stinging in agony was familiar. The gentle brush of your warm hand over the side of his face, was not.

It took time for him to grow comfortable with your physical affection - but when he did, god, it was like discovering a limitless source of vitality, all wrapped up in the most flawlessly beautiful of persons. He longed for the closeness of your skin if he was gone for long missions. He would cry into the circle of your arms, all of his unexpressed gratitude and love for you boiling over in hiccuped sobs.

He leans into your touch like a cat leans into ear scratches. He'll nuzzle his cold cheeks into the softness of your palms as you brush his tangled black locks back up over his forehead. He squeezes your hand to silently signal when you both need to cross a street or just to remind him that your still by his side.

From you he learned how easy it was to smile at the world. You reintroduced him back into the reality of natural goodness existing around him. This translated back into his Red-Hooding, of now seeing a city worth protecting. Not just because your in it, but because he now knows of the beauty and the laughter it holds. Within the graffitied concrete walls and stretches of hidden art galleries and grassroots community centres. Of the small queer clubs and community bookstores both of you would frequent. He learned to fall in love with Gotham because he fell in love with you.

Before going public with your relationship to his family, the sudden shift in his stern behaviour was glaring. Jason was gentler and actually trying, although awkwardly, to deepen his connection to his little brothers and sisters. You said that he was going to be stuck with them anyway, so he should learn to see them as the family he always deserved to have. Tim and Duke tease him, egging him on to explain why he decided to show up with a Tupperware of hand-baked velvet cookies for Steph and Cass (no, he didn't let Tim and Duke have any). He could throw a pillow at them and chase them through the manor, telling them to shut their faces, but nothing could distract anybody from the fact that someone was bringing back a Jason both Dick and Bruce thought they had buried.

[kafkasmuses]

KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago. 

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 

ahem. 

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 

you blink at him, once, twice. 

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything. 

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right? 

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 

“whatever helps,” you remark. 

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 

“with tennis?” 

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 

“like your wife?” 

“like you.” 

art corrected you. 

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 

“what?” you frown, confused. 

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 

“what do you mean?” 

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 

“ready?” he hushes out. 

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 

[nana-au]

Best Friends Forever!

Suguru Geto ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: You’re Suguru’s bff and roommate. You know him like the back of your hand – and he knows you the same, if not better! Some people may think you two are too close, but they just don’t understand. When you have a date planned and need help picking out your outfit, Suguru’s your guy! ...What’s this? He doesn’t want you to leave?

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: minor mention of blood, mention of pet death, possessiveness, jealousy, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, making you beg, overstimulation, unprotected sex

₊˚ପ⊹ an: kicking and screaming and crying and throwing up and scratching my face I NEED HIM.

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 2.8k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

BFF! Sugu who’s been by your side since before you can even remember! You grew up neighbors and when you both went off to college you got an apartment off campus together. It was only natural to be with Suguru. He was the only constant in your life – your anchor. 

BFF! Sugu who is so protective of you. How could he not? You two experienced life’s firsts together. You were there when Suguru took a nasty spill off his bike. His tears were hot down his face as you stayed by his side. You used the water bottle you kept on your own bike to flush the blood off his knee, giving it a quick peck. “My mom always says a kiss makes everything better. Do you feel better Sugu?” He nods his head, wiping the snot off of his face with his t-shirt. He was there when you lost your first pet and even though you were preteens and everyone made you feel dumb being sad over a goldfish - Geto made it a point to hold a funeral in his backyard. He dug a small grave for it - picking out the perfect rock for you to write its name on to place on top of its resting place. 

BFF! Sugu who makes sure you’re safe. He would never allow you to pump your own gas. He’s seen the type of guys who prowl around the gas station close to your home. He’ll make sure you get to sit pretty in the passenger seat while he fills up your car. Don’t worry about the price – he’ll take care of it. He always takes care of you. 

BFF! Sugu who knows everything about you. He knows all your favorites. Favorite color, favorite season, favorite food, favorite tv show… there was nothing that you liked that he was not aware of. He knows about things you wouldn’t be caught dead telling anyone else – trusting only your best friend. 

BFF! Sugu who is so so sooooo protective of you. Any guy he thought wasn’t the absolute best for you was quickly kicked to the curb. He’ll admit – sometimes the criteria was a little strict. The guy from your art class? His haircut was stupid. Shithead from your after school club? Believe him – he was a tool. Worst of all was the douche on your school’s baseball team. Suguru had quite the time getting you to see his point of view, but he didn’t dare say I told you so as you cried in his arms retelling the embarrassment of catching him cheating. 

BFF! Sugu who learns to relax in college. You were a woman now – you no longer needed his constant guidance. He would genuinely smile as you talked about all the friends you were making in your major. How funny your coworkers at the concession stand job you worked every football game were. The fact you had a date with a friend of a friend – your girl friend had vouched for him. He was a good guy. Geto was glad you had people looking out for you. He couldn’t wait to meet him. 

BFF! Sugu who helps you pick out the cute little outfits for your dates. You were so beautiful, that guy was truly lucky. But even his luck couldn’t match Suguru’s as you put on a little show for him – trying on every tantalizing option. 

BFF! Sugu who loved watching you dress up so much he bought you more. You didn’t even need a date to have a fashion show! He just loved seeing that color on you. Oh! – And don’t even get him started on the skimpy little dresses with the ruffles. They were made for you. He couldn’t decide whether your plump butt or your squishy boobs looked better hugged by the fabric. He had to use his large hand to hide the bite he gave to his bottom lip when your cute little panties peaked through the bottom of a particularly short one. “Maybe that one is good for around the house,” he proposed. 

BFF! Sugu who had to swallow his need when you begged him to rate your lingerie. “I didn’t realize you two were at that point in your relationship,” he would try to laugh off his distaste. 

“I’ve told him no to sex for so long, I’ve been thinking maybe it's time…” you trailed off. You played with the hem of your dress as you stood in front of Suguru on the couch. He was sunk comfortably into the loveseat, legs spread wide and one of his muscled arms stretching across the back of the couch. The other on the arm rest. “Ok princess. Let’s see the options,” he spoke.

BFF! Sugu who couldn’t make it through the first set. The white lace left little to the imagination, a black bow adorned above your cute mound. “You trying to make me sweat?” A dark chuckle broke through his lips. “Sorry?” you asked him, not hearing him correctly. How silly you were to think that just because he was a friend that made him any less of a man. A hot blooded man at that – with eyes that glued to your nipples visible through the thin fabric. “The dresses were one thing, princess, but this? Don’t play dumb,” his dark eyes were now impossibly black. You were staring into the voids that indiscreetly roamed your body. It was entirely silly of you to now try and hide yourself from his hungry gaze. 

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t let you leave. You were no match against his strong grip as he pulled you onto his lap. “You’re leavin’ me no choice,” he assured you, pushing you down hard against his thigh. You tried to push away but his hands on your waist locked you in. “No choice,” he reminded you. You swallowed thickly, realizing you were completely helpless as he began guiding your hips up and down his thigh. The rough material of your panties rubbing deliciously against your clit. “Sugu s-stop,” you begged him, all breathy and hot against his ear. “You want me to stop?” Of course! He was your best friend. You didn’t want him making you feel better than you ever thought possible by just rubbing your pussy against his leg. “But you look so cute like this,” he pouted at you, “Humping my thigh like a puppy. I’ll let go – but you better stop moving your hips,” he tutted at you. You didn’t have it in you to keep your eyes open to watch yourself continuously rut against him even after he removed his hands. It wasn’t your fault his muscled thigh felt more pleasurable than any toy you could ever buy. 

Geto had plenty of girls at your school talking about their experiences with him. You spent your entire teen years hearing about his ‘magical tongue’ and ‘horse dick’. For the majority of your life you had little interest in getting to experience that part of your best friend – that was until the bastard from the baseball team. The absolute snore fest he put on for your first time was jarring. Maybe you were so used to hearing how life-changing Suguru’s hips were that you had high expectations... 

No – you were not purposefully trying to get Geto to want you. He genuinely gave good advice when it came to what looked good on you. Ok so maybe you were pushing your luck with the lingerie – but Suguru was always so level-headed. It was scary how quickly he caved.

It was even more frightening listening to his taunts hot in your ear, “Why aren’t you stopping?” You couldn’t stop now – but you would. Just a little longer. You’d find the strength to stop soon. “Tell me you want me, or I’m stopping this,” he threatened and your form shook. “Please don’t,” you begged him. “Don’t what?” he lifted your chin, making you look at him “Don’t s-stop t-this,” you squeaked out.  

BFF! Sugu whose rumors were true. His tongue was magical. His hands flew down to your hips, helping you roll deliciously against the fabric of his sweats while his wet muscle was hot against your nipples. He used his teeth to pull down the fabric so he could taste your bare bud against his tongue. He suckled and licked your sensitive nipple causing your arousal to seep past the lace of your panties. You began to soak his sweatpants but he wasn’t gonna have you stopping anytime soon. He pulled your hips into tight circles against him, overwhelming your nub. His teeth nibbled at your nipple and you jerked up at the sudden shock. His grip was bruising and you wanted – no needed more. “Sugu.. more.. need more” you sounded so pathetic. 

BFF! Sugu who was left with little choice! His princess wanted more and more she was going to get. His head kissed your entrance, barely pushing in past the tip. You mewled, nails digging into his shoulders as he teased himself into you. “You think you can take me?” he asked you and you nodded fervently. He was thick and long – even his tip felt like he was tearing you in two. You wanted to be absolutely broken. “M-more Sugu,” you begged, trying to move your hips to sink down further. He kept you still – only allowing you to move if it was him dragging you down against him. Your slick was dripping down the rest of his cock, you were completely overwhelmed by the little attention he was giving you. One of his hands moved from your hips down to your clit, rubbing slow circles – barely ghosting above it. You were clenching on his fat tip and whining embarrassingly loud. He wanted to have you crying for his cock. He clicked his tongue at you, “I’m not convinced enough you want my cock.” He looked so unaffected as you shook, “I do! I need it, Sugu,” tears fell down your cheeks as you desperately tried to convince him.   

BFF! Sugu whose hips slapped against yours at a brutal pace. He had you pinned into the loveseat, head down and ass up. A creamy ring formed at the base of his unrelenting cock. Drool was seeping from your mouth and onto the couch, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pounding into that gummy spot that made you dizzy. “No one could make you feel this way,” he promised you, “this pussy was made for me.” His pace was bruising, his balls slapping against your clit. He pulled your hips up farther, making you arch your back. Everything was so noisy – the sound of you meeting his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling in and out, and his grunts each time he felt his tip kiss your cervix. Geto looooved watching you take him so well. Each time his cock disappeared inside of you, only to reappear as he roughly dragged out of you. He didn’t know if you were purposefully squeezing him each time his hips pulled back. Were you trying to keep him buried deep? “Your date won't mind if I leave my cum in you, right?” he teased you – knowing full well you wouldn’t be going anywhere after he was done with you. “Dripping out of your pussy at dinner,” you couldn’t fathom him being able to laugh right now. “What would you even tell him?” he was imagining the scene playing out in his mind, “My roommate thought I was looking a little empty. Needed to stuff me full,” His smile lazy thinking about how he was claiming you tonight. He was fucking your tight little hole deliciously, making sure you could never be satisfied by anything other than his cock. You pushed your hips into his, making sure he reached as deep as possible. “You want to cum, princess?” he picked up his pace – which you didn’t even think was possible – your tits bouncing at each thrust of his hips. You nodded, pleading for him to make you cum. “God – cum on my cock. Want t’feel you squeezin me,” the rough pad of his finger met your clit, helping your pleasure meet its peak. “I’m cumming, Sugu,” you cried out to your best friend. 

BFF! Sugu who wasn’t done with you once you came. You tried to claw at his hands on your hips, begging him to slow down. The tension in your tummy snapped, cumming undone loudly around him. He paid no mind to your pleas, “You can take more. You’re a good girl, I know you can.” He didn’t ever want to leave your snug pussy. He would fuck you all day if that’s what it took for him to feel satisfied. “Give me another, baby. Cum on my cock one more time. I know you can,” he was so filthy. You never had a guy dirty talk to you the way Geto was. He was demanding and unrelenting. It was alarming how much you enjoyed the filth leaving his lips. “How could you tell me to stop when she’s gripping me so tight – pussy doesn’t want to let go of me.” he threw his head back, “”S your fault I’m pounding you like this. I couldn't let you get away with showing me that little number.” The lingerie he was referring to was on the floor below you two, ripped into pieces from when he tore it off your body. He completely pulled out of you – leaving your pussy uncomfortably empty before flipping you over and folding you in half. He placed the back of your knees on his shoulder, wasting no time pushing himself back into you. The new angle took your breath away. His heavy frame held you down as his cock was unrelenting. When you looked down you could see his length slide in and out of you, your cute little pussy lips swallowing him whole. Your arousal coated his cock – all thick and creamy. You felt like you could pass out from the sight – not thinking it was possible to be so wet. His thumb reached down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it. “C’mon baby. I’m addicted to the way you squeeze my cock. Let me feel you cum again. Need it, princess,” he begged. He was slowly losing all control. You were so perfect underneath him, taking him like the good girl he always knew you were. You were wrecking him. Your sounds were so cute – choking back sobs as he fucked you to another peak. You were begging for him to cum inside you. You wanted to feel him coat your walls in his sticky juice. “Gonna pump you full,” he promised you. “Gonna feel so good stuffed full with my cum.”

BFF! Sugu who can’t stand watching his semen leak out of you. You were completely fucked out – chest heaving as you laid on the couch. Geto was still holding your legs up, trying fruitlessly to push his juices back inside of you. 

BFF! Sugu who needs to make sure you keep all of it. He didn’t even wait for you to regain your energy before his thick fingers are deep inside of you. “Can’t let a single drop go to waste,” he tells you. He curls his thick digits, pushing against the squishy spot that makes you see stars. “No more,” you breathlessly say. “Just one more. Need to make sure it all keeps,” you are completely overstimulated. The feelings of his fingers are heightened by your two orgasms – which only makes you come undone even faster. His fingers are lightening fast and your pussy sounds like it's made of water. It’s so loud and wet and you just can’t help yourself from cumming again. You’re thrashing against his unrelenting fingers, crying loud enough that your neighbors definitely hear. “That’s it. S’good for me,” he’s emotional watching you come undone so many times by his doing. You were his. His, his, his. 

BFF! Sugu who doesn’t even have to tell you to cancel your date. You couldn’t pick your head up after he was done with you. You were staying home with him – where you belonged. 

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ruggie Bucchi - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ruggie: Can't believe I'm here bein' a supporter for some museum like this. Guess ya never know what life's got in store for ya.

Ruggie: I mean, I totally wouldn't've ever paid to see paintings that I can't even fill my belly with…

Ruggie: But I guess it's okay if I don't gotta pay. I wonder if they got paintings I've seen in my textbooks.

???: This painting… These are the hyenas from the King of Beast's legends. When the three of them are lined up like this it's kind of intimidating…

Ruggie: Well, yeah, they were out there patrollin' lava quarries 'n goin' out on scoutin' missions, so.

Trey: You sure know your stuff, Ruggie. I guess that would make sense for a hyena beastman to know.

Trey: But still… Both patrolling and scouting seems like painstaking work.

Ruggie: Oh, yeah. From the stories I've heard, they had some pretty tight scrapes…

Ruggie: Like there's one where while they were out chasin' some stubborn foe, they ended up runnin' off a cliff tryin' to catch 'em…

Ruggie: Which had 'em endin' up flyin' into some real prickly thickets.

Trey: If it were me, I'd probably hesitate, worried about getting hurt. Guess the hyenas who worked under the King of Beasts were just that brave.

Ruggie: Brave? Then I guess I'll take that compliment, too. 'Cause I've jumped into thorny thickets like that a buncha times!

Trey: You've jumped into the thorny thickets…? A bunch of times!? Why would you do that…?

Ruggie: Actually, did you know? In the Sunset Savanna, there's this real steep cliff that's become a bit of a tourist attraction.

Ruggie: It's the perfect place to catch the settin' sun, so a ton of tourists go up there to snap a pic, leanin' over the fences 'n everything.

Ruggie: And like, sometimes there's folk that'll get so focused on settin' up the shot, or that'll bump into others that they'll drop and lose stuff.

Trey: I'd expect they'd have to let their stuff go if they dropped it off the cliff… But how does this all tie into you talking about the thorny thickets??

Ruggie: Sheeheehee. So actually, at the bottom of that cliff, there's a huge bramble of thorny thickets.

Ruggie: It's off-limits, and it's pretty dangerous, so no one really heads down there.

Ruggie: So, that's why I'd sneak down in the dead of night, and pick up all the lost items!

Ruggie: Sometimes I'd find little wrapped pieces of candy, watches 'n accessories, and even wallets!

Ruggie: Well, it kinda depended week to week what dropped, but… That was a great way to make some quick cash.

Trey: B-But if you had gotten injured, would all that have been worth it?

Ruggie: Yeah, true. Back when I was just a kid, I could slip in 'n out pretty easily, but I had to stop when I started getting' bigger.

Ruggie: Not only was I makin' big bucks, but the cliff's environment was getting' kept clean. Felt like a win-win deal to me.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ruggie: Oh, this one… It's a painting of the thunder god and his son.

Trey: Yeah, according to the legends, he came to the human world just after being born, and was raised by adoptive parents.

Ruggie: Basically, that means he was raised apart from his actual dad, right? Amazin' they actually look like they get along good.

Trey: Haha… I wonder. Do you get along with your dad, Ruggie?

Ruggie: Nah, I don't got one.

Ruggie: He left back when I was a kid, so I don't remember anythin' about him, 'n I don't know what he's up to now.

Trey: Oh… Is that so? Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds.

Ruggie: Huh, that reaction's pretty different than what I'm used to.

Ruggie: Back home, there's a ton of kids just like me, so usually they'd just shrug and go, "Oh, okay" and move on.

Trey: And I guess it doesn't sound like they're saying that just to be considerate.

Ruggie: Obviously. Because the bigger problem is not havin' the money to buy food!

Ruggie: Granny'd take care of me, but there wasn't much we could do 'bout our empty bellies…

Ruggie: When I was big enough, I'd start working together with all the kids in my little neighborhood to scrounge up some food.

Trey: Kids running around trying to gather food on their own… That's hard for me to imagine.

Ruggie: There's a buncha ways to gather up food. We'd go into town and ask for alms, or drop a line in the river.

Ruggie: We were always pretty hungry, so we'd pretty much do anything… Oh, like we had a great time once digging for potatoes.

Trey: Is digging up potatoes that exciting?

Ruggie: WELL, YEAH!

Ruggie: There's actually a type of potato that grows in my country that can get as large as 20 kilos…

Ruggie: Around the time the potato harvestin' was finishin' up, we all snuck into the fields at night…

Ruggie: And we'd pick up some stunted potatoes that were left behind, as well as dug up some other forgotten potatoes.

Ruggie: We were all up in arms to pick every single one before the sun rose!

Trey: Why'd you go at mid… Never mind, I'm not going to ask.

Ruggie: And then, this one year when I was diggin', I hit the jackpot!

Ruggie: It was a potato so huge I wouldn't've even been able to carry it with both arms! It had't've been heavier than 20 kilos～

Ruggie: Didn't think there'd be any potatoes left that huge… Maan, I really lucked out then.

Trey: 20 kilograms, huh… With something that big, I don't think there'd be much to worry about eating for a while.

Ruggie: Don'tcha think?

Ruggie: I was thinkin', like, we could dry whatever was leftover and turn it to powder to make it last a bit longer…

Ruggie: But then Granny ended up boilin' 'em, fryin' 'em, and basically makin' a ton of dishes. It was a potato party extravaganza!

Ruggie: Me and the other street kiddos were just packin' 'em away, and little by little it started to disappear…

Ruggie: In the end, I couldn't make anything to save it for later.

Trey: Ah… That's rough.

Ruggie: And I never saw a potato that huge ever again. Guess good luck like that only ever hits once in a while.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Trey: Woah… This painting has a real powerful presence.

Ruggie: So, this is a painting of when the Thorn Fairy transformed into a dragon to fight, huh.

Trey: She looks way stronger than what her stories say. I bet I would be no match for her.

Ruggie: Eh!? Trey-san, you lookin' to pick a fight with the Thorn Fairy? It'd be waaay better to try 'n flatter her instead

Trey: Oho, but that might be the scarier route, don't you think? You might end up in deep trouble if you were to offend the Thorn Fairy instead.

Ruggie: Sheeheehee. Oh, but I'm pretty good with that kinda stuff.

Trey: Haha, well, I guess I have to admire that pluck.

Ruggie: But man, she's really something. She's the one that caused all that lightning too, right?

Ruggie: They say it was always thunderin' and lightnin' outside her castle as a way to keep intruders out… That's a huge undertakin', huh.

Ruggie: But with all those lightning strikes, I bet the bread prices were super cheap near the Thorn Fairy's castle.

Trey: Bread? …Ohh, right! Because when lightning strikes, certain particles are released in the air that helps plants grow.

Ruggie: Huh? Wait, are ya sayin' there's actually a whole science behind the whole "bread gets cheaper whenever it thunders"!?

Trey: Oh, isn't that what you meant?

Ruggie: I was just sayin' what Granny would always say…

Ruggie: Wait, so does that sayin' mean that 'cause more wheat gets harvested, more bread can get made, and that's why it's cheaper?

Trey: Yeah. Although, with how much we've developed our fertilizers nowadays, I don't know how much lightning strikes actually play a part anymore.

Ruggie: Cooool, I had no idea. Guess you Science Club folk know your stuff.

Ruggie: I bet Granny didn't really know the meanin' behind it like you did…

Ruggie: But I bet she saw with her own eyes the change in bread prices whenever there were tons of thunder and lightning.

Ruggie: But still… Kinda weird, huh. Sheeheehee.

Trey: Weird? What is?

Ruggie: Back when I was a kid, I only ever cared 'bout food, so there's no way I woulda been interested in learnin' why the bread was cheaper.

Ruggie: But now, I heard your whole spiel, and my reaction was to think it was pretty cool. Guess I'm maturin'.

Trey: Well… Maybe it's just that you can actually afford to take the time to listen now?

Ruggie: Maybe, maybe not. 'Cause my wallet's still pretty empty…

Ruggie: Oh hey, maybe this is just me bein' able to relax my stresses away, huh!? …Maybe not, heh.

Trey: Could be, if you're enjoying your time here, at least. Oops… Look at the time.

Trey: I think I'll head out to go check on how my dormmates are doing. See you, Ruggie.

Ruggie: 'Kaay, see ya. I'm gonna keep lookin' around this area a bit longer.

Ruggie: Hm? This painting… A lion cub's just lollygaggin' with a warthog 'n a meerkat.

Ruggie: I'm wonderin' if they even know all the scary things that can happen to animals that step outta their territory, hm?

Requested by Anonymous.

[cherryredstars]

OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.

[tempestgnostic]

i think the greatest and most unfortunate parallel i see in the therian community that i also saw in the trans community is a certain level of identifying with the pain of species dysphoria instead of identifying with what makes you a therian. species dysphoria can fucking suck but it’s not required to be a therian, it’s never been required, it never will be, and even those who know this will still lash out at the idea that some of us find joy in also being human. i could never share my art with the world otherwise. i’m part of this badass species that builds upon technology and preserves knowledge from over a thousand years ago. we have an incredible wealth of culture and experience available to us and that’s fucking magical!!

grieve as much as you need to. grieve the fact that you’ll never quite have the life you want. if you experience this pain, it’s very real, and you need to process it. and at some point, on the other side of grief, you need to let go. let go of wishing for the life you’ll never have, and figure out what you can do with the one you’re living, to bring it more in line with your authentic animal self. don’t take this chance for granted. this body is capable of many wonderful things. i felt the same joy about being trans when i recognized that this experience gives me a unique perspective on the world—and i realized that, had i gone through a different puberty, been raised as the other binary gender, i still would’ve been trans. i would’ve gone on estrogen. i would’ve pushed myself through the black morass of grief, discovering along the way that i’m in charge of becoming who i want to be. i would’ve found joy.

your pain is not all that you are.

[zeroeightzeroone]

homesick - han jisung

love collection

genre: comfort, angst? soft

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none?

wc ~3.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

you miss your boyfriend–you miss him a lot.

how could you not?

all you have wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is throw your arms around jisung and hold him close. you want to keep your boyfriend so tightly against your chest that you're encapsulated by the warmth radiating off his body, the warmth that never fails to comfort you, resting your head against his chest to listen to how his heart beats in tandem with your own. you miss the physical closeness with jisung.

stray kids has been on tour since late april this year, and the last leg of the tour is expected to end early april next year. while that's quite a long time for the boys to be away, they'd be back in asia in late july and on a break until the tour kicks back up in early september. it's currently the beginning of july.

thankfully, you weren't taking any summer courses. through the grace of whatever higher power there is up there, you managed to convince your boss to let you work remotely so you could join jisung and the boys for two weeks during the japanese leg of their tour back at the beginning of june.

you loved watching jisung perform. seeing him firsthand from the crowd, in his element when he's on stage, performing his art and perfecting his craft, makes your heart lurch; you fall for the man all over again, watching him up there. seeing it firsthand is completely different from watching videos of him–you can feel the energy radiating off him when he's up there.

at the end of those two weeks, you and the boys ended up in the same place: the airport. you were boarding a plane back to seoul, and they were boarding a plane to their first tour stop in america. due to the influx of reporters and fans waiting at narita international airport, your goodbyes to the boys and their staff had to be in the hotel, inside your rooms, hours before checkout time.

knock, knock, knock.

"come in!" you call whoever is on the other side of the door; if it's any of the boys, then they will be accompanied by jisung, who has the extra room key for your room.

you grunt in a squatting position as you move your luggage from laying on the ground, on its back, to standing upright on its wheels. you hear the keycard machine beep from the other side of the door in confirmation as you're hunched over, wheeling your luggage up against the wall before standing up straight and rubbing your palms against your jeans. you watch as the front door opens to reveal the eight boys, jisung in front, holding the keycard to your hotel room. behind them, the managers and some guards come into the room with them, but the bodyguards stay outside.

"y/n!" felix whines with a pout as he pushes forward, running to you and enveloping you in his arms, "fly safe, okay?"

you pat the freckled boy's back appreciatively as you nod.

"make sure you text ji when you land, okay?"

"i will, but you guys will still be in the air when he gets that message."

felix pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he looks at you, "still, it's the thought that counts." you smile and giggle at felix, who moves aside for the next couple of members to say their goodbyes to you.

your exchanges with jeongin, minho and changbin are on the shorter side; brief hugs with jeongin and changbin, who thank you for coming to support them in concert, meanwhile minho gives you a half hug and pats your head as he bids you farewell, thanking you for taking two weeks out of the many months jisung will spend talking about how much he'll miss you.

meanwhile, hyunjin, chan and seungmin's hugs last a little longer when you're swayed around a little bit and told to be safe, get a lot of rest on the plane and not miss them too much. chan lets you know that if there is any other time you're going to be free when they're on tour, let them know, and they'll arrange everything for you–from the plane tickets to where you're staying–anything at all.

seungmin, the member you're closest to after your boyfriend, whispers in your ear quietly to ensure it's kept between the two of you: "i know you're going to ask me to take care of jisung for you, so don't worry about that. don't worry about hannie; we all got him."

the reassurance brings a smile to your face, and your grip on seungmin gets tighter in appreciation. the boy sways your bodies back and forth, patting your back when you separate. when he pulls away, he steps aside to reveal your boyfriend standing there with a pout, his big, brown eyes glossy as tears build up at his waterline. you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing.

you were already feeling on the verge of tears when felix came rushing in and pulled you into a hug. chan's words about arranging anything and everything if you're free, then seungmin assuring you that they'll look out for your boyfriend while on tour and now, here's your boyfriend, your hannie, your jisung, looking at you with teary eyes.

you open your arms and jisung runs into them, prompting you to take a step back at the sudden impact, but jisung's tight grip around your waist protects you from any chance of falling backward. jisung buries his face in the crook of your neck while your arms are wrapped around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder as your eyes are squeezed shut. your grip on each other is tight, knowing that once either of you lets go, the next time you'll be in each other's arms is in two months.

jisung lets a choked whimper slip out that he tries to hide with a cough. you smack his back gently, "ya!"

you clear your throat, trying your best to stay composed and stern as you utter the next words.

"if you cry, i'm going to cry too!" your voice cracks and trembles as you speak.

"i'm not crying," he denies. though his voice is muffled from his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can clearly hear that it's softer than usual, shaky, and uneasy.

you let out a pained laugh, "liar." the tears flow down your cheeks as you hold him even tighter.

"i'm not lying!" jisung continues to deny. he lifts his head up from your neck, and you stand there, still in each other's arms, looking at each other, "see."

what you see is how jisung's cheeks are flushed, wet with tears that probably fell and landed on the fabric of the hoodie you're wearing, his lashes clumped together with tears as he tries to keep his lips pursed together when they're trembling and threatening to go back to that pout. on the other hand, your tears are freely falling as you stare up at your boyfriend through your fluttering lids, mouth opening and closing as you breathe heavily through your pouted lips, cheeks also flushed and damp. you smack his chest.

"what?" he whines.

you open your mouth to laugh at him, but instead, a sob comes out. you fall back into his arms and bury your face into his chest as you cry.

"look who's crying now," jisung retorts as his arms move around your body again, holding you close. one hand rests on the small of your back while the other caresses your hair.

"yeah, the both of you," minho teases and jisung glares at the boy, but the older one just smiles back.

the rest of the boys watch the exchange between you and jisung with a slight ache in their chests as they remember how hard it was to say goodbye to their friends and family before leaving. chan looks around and he gathers everyone to leave, wanting to give you and jisung a minute alone to say your goodbyes before the driver takes you to the airport.

pulling away, jisung moves his hands to your face and brushes your hair back, some strands sticking to your skin because of tears as you hiccup. even when your hair is out of your face, he continues to stroke your hair back while the other hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. the two of you stare up at each other, sniffling.

"i love you," jisung whispers, his voice hoarse from crying.

you nod, sniffling and hiccuping in return, "i love you too."

jisung smiles down at you, "hey, i'll be back before you know it."

your eyelids flutter as you blink quickly, and your hands play with the back of the sweatshirt jisung is wearing.

"i'll text you everyday," he reminds, "i'll call you as much as i can, and as much our schedules and the time zones allow for."

you sigh shakily, "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"i'm going to miss you so much too, my love," jisung brushes your hair back again, "god, i wish i could just take you with me. two months away from you? that's too long."

you snicker, nodding in agreement, "i do too. but hey, i'll get to see so many videos of you taken by stay, doing your thing on stage."

your boyfriend smiles, gazing down at you lovingly.

"i'm so proud of you. look at you," you sigh, lips curled up in a smile, "my boyfriend is going on a world tour."

"do you know what that means?" you tilt your head in confusion, "souvenirs from every stop that remind me of you!"

since he left, both of you have been sending texts daily and video calls whenever your schedules permit it and when the time zones line up enough so it isn't too early or too late for either of you.

sometimes your calls only prompt you to miss jisung even more, wishing he was next to you and that his voice wasn't just coming through a device while he's on the other side of the world, but the distance also means you continue to long for the day jisung comes home. you know his parents long for that day as well, his mother sending you texts every couple of days asking when you're free so you can go out together. as jisung likes to put it–spending time with her future daughter-in-law.

however, as the number of days away from jisung increases, the number of days before jisung returns also decreases. with that in mind, you try to stay positive and look forward to the day he comes home.

now that the boys are in america, they've been quite busy rehearsing, checking and then rechecking their formations and any technical details that could go wrong during the concerts, the process repeating at each venue as they sync up their equipment with the new venues. their team organizing and making sure everything is okay with the venue and other organizers. as a result, jisung has been too busy to call late at night as he passes out the moment he's in his hotel room from the venue, then waking up a couple hours later to hop on a flight to the next destination.

he sends you texts here and there throughout his day, sending random photos of himself and the members during rehearsals or before and after the show. on jisung's end, he sent a text over when he landed early in the morning, saying he could probably hop on a call quickly when he gets to the hotel, seeing as they're going to be in inglewood for a little over a week for two shows instead of one. you were about to leave work when the message came through. going home for the evening when the message reminded you of your phone call with jisung's mother.

"hello, eomeonim (mother-in-law)," you greet when the line connects.

"y/n, myeoneuri (daughter-in-law)," she speaks into the phone, her tone sweet as usual. she doesn't say anything for a moment before speaking, "is this a bad time? you don't sound like you're at home?"

"ah, sorry eomeonim," you apologize, "i just got off the bus, but i'm on the way home now. but don't worry, i can talk if you need me."

"ah okay, i won't keep you too long then, myeoneuri," she assures before continuing, "have you spoken to jisung on the phone recently?"

you hum as you think, "I think it's been a couple of days since our last phone call; why? is he okay?"

you hear jisung's mother sigh on the other end of the line, "i'm a little worried, if i'm honest," you hum in acknowledgment and she continues, "he sounded quite down on our phone call yesterday and the day before. he told me not to worry when i asked… i know this might be a lot, but would you mind talking to him? if it's you, he'll open up more–at least, he'll have talked about what's on his mind."

"yeah, yeah, of course," you agree, "i'll see if we can call tonight, and i'll check up on him, see how he's doing, eomeonim. don't worry too much, i'm sure ji is okay!"

she chuckles on the other end, "ah, you sound just like him, y/n. don't tell him i sent you!"

you laugh in response to her rushed addition at the end of her statement: "i won't say anything," she sighs in relief, "was there anything else you were curious about?"

she hums, "nothing else, thank you so much, myeoneuri. i'll see you on the weekend, okay? come over whenever you want! the door is always open for you!"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you smile, "thank you, i'll see you in a couple of days. bye eomeonim!"

"goodbye, myeoneuri! get home safely. i love you," she bids her farewells, which you exchange right back with her before she hangs up the call.

thinking back to that conversation, you wonder what worried jisung's mother about him; was it how he spoke? his tone? the words he used? was he quite active in the conversation, or did he seem more passive? you wonder what exactly she meant by jisung sounding quite down, but you guess you'll figure it out when he calls you in the morning.

it's around eight in the morning when your phone rings from the bedside table. yunjin should already be awake and ready for work, so the ringer volume doesn't wake anyone up except you. you roll around, feeling around the bedside table for the device. you accept his call quickly and place the phone to your ear.

a deep yawn leaves your lips before you say, "ji baby?"

you hear him hum in acknowledgment on the other end before he replies, "yeah, baby, it's me." a sleepy smile forms on your lips at the sound of his voice. " did I wake you?"

you groan softly as you flick the lamp on, the sudden brightness causing you to squint, "yes but i don't mind. i just wanna hear your voice. are you back at the hotel now?"

"yeah, we got back a while ago. i just wanted to be ready for bed before calling; this way i can fall asleep while you're on the line," jisung explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his sentiments.

he continues to talk about what they did today. you're gradually more awake and more attentive as the minutes pass, so eventually, you realize what jisung's mother was referring to when it sounded like he's been down. jisung is speaking monotone, his voice softer, and when he speaks, it sounds like his mind is elsewhere.

when he's finished, you decide to segway into that conversation, "how are you feeling?"

he pauses for a moment, taken aback before he shrugs, "i'm tired, it's been a long day of rehearsal. what about you? how are you feeling?"

"i'm doing good, i'm hearing your voice, so i'm doing great," you answer quickly before he tries to shift the conversation to you, "are you physically tired or?"

jisung is lying in bed as he speaks to you, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of his replies, "yeah. dancing and all."

"emotionally?"

"emotionally?" he repeats to which you confirm, "i mean… i'm okay–better now since i'm hearing your voice after a couple of days… it's been a busy last couple of days."

you nod, running a hand through your tangled hair as you listen to jisung on the other end. his tone is still distracted as his words graze over how he's feeling, avoiding delving deeper into it. realizing that maybe he isn't ready to delve deeper into his emotions, you allow him to shift the conversation to your life and what you've been up to while he's been on tour–asking you how work has been and if anything new has occurred. you answer jisung honestly; there is nothing new at work as it's the same job you've had since getting into university; the only new events would be the lunch you have on the weekend with jisung's mother, aunt and grandmother.

the latter part of your updates brings a smile to jisung's lips, his heart warming at the thought of the most important women in his life spending quality time together. but at the same time, hearing your updates about your life back at home, no matter how small you think they are or if they're the same things that always happen, has jisung's chest aching in a completely different way.

"ji?" you call, not hearing anything coming from his end, "did you fall asleep?" you pause to listen, to survey whether or not you hear soft snores or heavy breathing that indicate that he is indeed asleep.

instead, jisung responds after a couple of moments, "i'm still here. i'm awake."

"are you okay?" you wonder, "if you're tired then i can go–"

"no, don't go," he quickly interrupts, "sorry."

"don't apologize, i just wanna make sure you're okay," you reassure, and you hear him hum in acknowledgment.

"i miss you," he declares softly, his voice solemn as he speaks.

"i miss you too, ji," you sigh, instinctively clutching the pillow closer to your chest.

the boy on the other end ponders for a moment before continuing, "i miss you a lot. i don't really know how to explain it," jisung blinks up at the ceiling, "i miss you all the time, but when we get back to the hotel or when i'm not performing, i miss you even more."

jisung's eyebrows knit in frustration as he continues to explain himself.

"i love being on stage, i love performing," he states, "i can't explain how i feel when i'm performing either, but… there's a feeling of contentment or fullness? i don't know… i just know i love to be up there. but…"

"but?" you encourage him to continue as his words trail off.

"but when i get back to the hotel, or when it's all over, i feel tired: the adrenaline doesn't last as long as it usually does. but even though i'm tired, it's hard to fall asleep."

you aren't sure where to place jisung's words, unsure if you've ever felt the way he's been feeling lately, uncertain if you can relate, but at the least, you want to understand and reassure him that you're there.

"there's a feeling of emptiness that kinda just sits there when i'm not on stage," his voice is softer when he says the word 'emptiness' like it's a fragile word, one he's unsure of, "i wasn't sure what it was before but listening to you talk started to help me realize what caused the emptiness."

"something i said helped you realize?" you repeat for clarification.

"yeah, listening to you talk about home, work, the local cafes, the conversations you have with my mom–just everything about your life at home," jisung lists, "i'm feeling homesick."

your lips part in awe when the last word leaves his mouth, the singular word allowing you to reconceptualize what he said previously and gain a greater understanding.

"i tried my best to distract myself and rehearse more to combat those feelings of emptiness but nothing seemed to work; it just stuck there. listening to you helped combat some of my homesickness but…"

"but it's still there," you finish his sentence, and he agrees with a sigh.

"i love being onstage, i feel so alive when i'm up there," now, when jisung speaks, his tone is clearer, and his thoughts are clearer, the way he's speaking signalling that instead of being lost in his own thoughts he's got both feet on the ground and he's working through them, "but i miss home so much. god… i miss you so damn much."

you smile sadly when you hear him sniffle.

"i miss my bed at the dorms, the air fryer at the dorms that we don't even use. i miss the smell of your laundry detergent and shampoo, i miss being in your arms, and you playing with my hair. i miss being at home."

jisung cries softly as he speaks, sniffling and continuing to list off the things that he misses at home. it brings tears to your eyes; using your comforter to dab the tears off your face.

"hey…" you call into the phone, "would it help if i sent little voice messages throughout the day so you could hear my voice? i can send pictures of things you love here too? just a couple more weeks, and you'll be here, and i'll hold you so tightly you get sick of me."

"i'll never be sick of being in your arms," he remarks, "and if it isn't too much, i would love that, all of it." jisung smiles at your suggestions, appreciative of you and your ideas to help him combat his homesickness until he's back in seoul.

"i'll try my best."

"baby?" he coos, prompting a soft response from you, "do you think we can video call? i wanna see your face before i sleep. can you stay until i fall asleep?"

your cheeks heat up from your boyfriend's suggestion, and your heart feels giddy at seeing his face for a couple of minutes before he falls asleep. " of course, baby."

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn

♡♡♡

Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.

"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.

"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.

"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."

Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."

"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."

Benedict smiles.

"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."

Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."

"Mm. Fair enough."

"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."

"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."

They both chuckle.

♡♡♡

By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.

"What is it?"

Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."

Anthony drags his brother to his study.

"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.

Benedict didn't want that.

"And if you kill Hastings?"

"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."

Again, he didn't want that.

Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.

You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.

The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.

"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.

"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."

You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.

You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.

"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.

You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.

Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"

You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.

♡♡♡

You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.

Unfortunately they had already left.

You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."

"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."

Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."

He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.

All Daphne can think about is Simon.

"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.

"No. Sound him, surely."

"Good..."

"Are you worried?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you not?"

Colin doesn't answer.

By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.

"Stop!"

Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.

"Daphne!" Simon shouts.

"Sister!"

Both men run toward her.

Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.

"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.

"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.

"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.

"Says the man who just shot at me!"

"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"

"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.

Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."

Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.

"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.

"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."

"You could have been hurt," he says.

"No one got hurt, luckily."

Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.

"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.

Simon nods at him.

Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."

Everyone turns to look at her.

"The duke and I are to be married."

You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.

The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.

Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.

When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.

Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

[elismor]

I see a lot of posts going by about comments and kudos and hits and...well... I've been thinking about the three quite a lot lately--as both a fic author and someone who spends a lot of my professional life looking at web metrics and determining which are actually important/accurate measures of user engagement.

Mileage varies, of course. And this is all just MY opinion, so do feel free to ignore it wholesale.

What I think when I see someone say that sorting by a hits to to kudos ratio is a good way to find "good" fic:

Hits are a measure of quantity (how many times your story or art has been viewed), but without knowing how AO3 defines a hit, it's actually kind of a meaningless number.  We know that our own views of our work do not count toward hits, but...if my BFF looks at my story 7 times in one day because she keeps trying to read it but getting interrupted...is that one hit, or seven? And if it's seven, then the numbers are artificially inflated because it's really just Bestie trying to get her Codex fix. And...if Bestie looks at it three times today and four tomorrow...is that 7 hits total, or two? 

Some transparency on the part of AO3 could clear this up handily, but until we get that...shrug. All it is is a number that may or may not be an accurate reflection of how many actual people looked at the page your fic is on.  Did they READ it? Or did they nope out?  No way to know.

Kudos are intended to be slightly more qualitative, but there is no way of knowing why the reader gave them. (Similar to likes here on tumblr.) It might be that they loved the piece. It might be a simple acknowledgement that the reader was there. It might even be a pity kudo. We have no way of knowing. It's, again, just a number.

Obviously, everyone is free to interpret both hits and kudos as positive reaction/interaction. I might do that myself if I didn't spend my workdays explaining to people that 50,000 "hits" to the website could be 50K people who came to learn about us or...simply the result of the computer labs on campus having the university homepage set to default.

Bigger numbers are just that....bigger numbers.

Comments are the only objective way to judge how someone is reacting to your fic or art.

So, what then? Sort by number of comments?

You can do that, sure. (I think. I confess I have never once gotten the AO3 search to work as well as people rave about.) But do keep in mind that many authors answer their comments. So, something with, say, 20 comments may be 20 people telling the author they loved it. Or it might be ten people and ten author-replies. OR, it might be three people having a conversation in the comments. You have to look and see.  

Bigger numbers are just bigger numbers.

Okay, fine Elis. What am I supposed to do then?

Look, I'm not your mother or your therapist and you are free to assign whatever meanings you like to these things. I, personally, find "good" fic through a combination of things including: recs, the fandom grapevine, dumb luck, events, and just...reading some of it and not feeling guilty if I nope out for some reason.

This all sounds a little depressing when laid out like this, huh? Especially when you take into account the downward trends in interacting and the rise of folks treating fic and art as content to be consumed. 

Here's what I have learned from writing fic for 30 years (well, 28 and counting):

As an author (and an artist, I would presume), you have absolutely no way of predicting which of your work will land and take hold and which will not. It's alchemy and luck and the weird (and not actual) algorithm of fandom. Sometimes, the piece you whipped out in 30 minutes and posted on the fly will land in the right person's inbox and they will share it and their friends will share it and it will get big.  Sometimes, the piece you slaved over for weeks and weeks will do that...sometimes it won't.  Sometimes your genius manifests and resonates, sometimes it does not.

My personal favorite fic of my own--the one I think is probably the best thing I have done in SW fandom-- has like 8 kudos and 4 comments (2 of which are my responses). Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it an indication that the fic is objectively "bad"? No.

The mercenary in me suggests that if you want to get lots of comments and kudos, you should pick the pairing that is THE pairing in the fandom and write for that--because that's where the eyeballs are, because that's where the connections are.  But that is not why I write, so it's just that--a very mercenary way of looking at things. Not that there is anything WRONG with doing it that way. Supply and demand run the world. If the people want Codywan and you want the people....give them Codywan. No shame in that.

And there is no shame in wanting or seeking validation for your work, either.

But it breaks my heart to see authors (and artists) give up on themselves when they do not receive piles of kudos and comments. It's not you. It's...the luck of the draw. It's...fandom. It's...an artificial and murky set of measurements that have almost no basis in anything meaningful.

Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing. You are what you make, not how people respond to it.

[sanjoongie]

Duchess of Death!

☠Pairing: Butler! Jung Yunho x Duchess! Reader (f) x Cook! Jung Wooyoung

☠Au: the Duke of death and his maid anime, anime au, noble au

☠Trope: mutual pining, noble/servant

☠Genre: angst, smut

☠️Word Count: 2,136

☠Rating: 18+, MDNI

☠Warnings: the entire sexy body of Jeong Yunho described in various compromising ways, mxm, handjob, mutual masturbation, verbal instruction

☠Summary: cursed as a child to kill anything you touch, you're banished to your family's estate in the country with only your faithful Butler Yunho by your side. He knows of your curse yet does everything in his power to push your limits--just to see your reaction.

☠A/N: To the Ying to my Yang. may we never see eye to eye and always laugh despite of it 🤣🤣 you’re always there to match my level and i never feel more myself than i am with you. We may fight, and sometimes it’s nasty, but I'd like to think that sisters fight the way we do, so that always eases my heart. Please never change, you’re my world, my sun, happy birthday @mejuii

“Yunho!” You call for your butler at the piano. “My oral fixation is acting up again! Fetch me something to suck on.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Yunho bows his head and reaches for his pants.

You watch in horror as he unbuttons them and places both hands by his hips, about to pull down his pants, implying--

“YUNHO!” You screech, covering your eyes with your gloved hands. “Why are you like this?!”

Yunho began to button his pants back up. “Why, because your reactions are so cute, Your Grace,” Yunho chuckled.

“I'll cute you,” You say, a grumble and a warning in your tone, “without the e.”

“Oh no!” Yunho covers his mouth in a mock gasp of horror. “Not my hair, Your Grace, you swore you'd never let me cut it. Or do you mean to say you wonder if I'm cut or not? Do you think that changes the texture on your tongue?”

Your face heats up, embarrassment thrumming through your veins. “No, I did not mean that! Stop with your sexual innuendos.”

Yunho smiles, lips only pulled up at the corners in the slightest, his perfect cupid’s bow  the epitome of temptation. And you will never be able to feel them against yours because of your damn curse.

When you were but a child, a witch had casted a curse on you; anything you touched would die. So you had been banished to this mansion, far from your family, with only your butler as company. It had been hard at first, to be away from your younger brother and sister but soon Yunho was the only family you needed. He eased the ache in your soul. 

“Your Grace, should I prepare the afternoon tea?” Yunho wonders. “Surely you should start utilizing the new chef we hired.”

You perk up at the mention of the new cook but wilt upon realizing you couldn't even thank him properly for the meals he prepared. “No, Yunho, I’ll have my sucker for now.”

“As you will, Your Grace.” Yunho bent at the waist to bow and went to fetch the sweet concoction that would do nothing for your hunger pains.

Wooyoung, unbeknownst to you, is waiting outside the doors in anticipation. When Yunho leaves the sun room and closes the door softly, he shakes his head and Wooyoung’s shoulders fall. All they want is to serve you and you continue to keep them at arm's length--physically as well as emotionally. 

Still, you cannot deny that Yunho has your heart utterly in his grasp. Whether he’s aiding you in moving the plants around to capture the sun best, or he’s tucking a blanket around you when you fall asleep in front of the fireplace, too stubborn to move to your bedroom, he’s your constant. He never leaves your side and you have come to prefer it this way. But it is still torture to know that you will never be able to touch, to kiss, to hug the one you love the most. 

Then one day, a small reprieve is given to you. You had been walking the halls of your mansion, specifically making your way to the wing that held the wonderful pieces of art your family had accumulated over the centuries. They didn’t hold any value or interest to you per say, but it gave you a purpose on this day. 

You scrunch your nose in confusion, tilting your head to follow the complex lines of one particular painting. Your confusion only increases as Yunho pushes into your personal space. In fear, you back up against the wall, palms pressed to the wall. Yunho slams a hand on the wall beside your head and his lip twists into a smirk. 

“If I had known you wished to gaze at something beautiful, I would have volunteered myself, Your Grace.” Yunho speaks in a lilting, low voice and you feel as if you’re being hypnotized by your butler. 

“Yunho!” You squeak, eyes avoiding his own.

Yunho takes the moment to eye you from bottom to top. If you had bothered to meet his gaze, you would have seen the hunger emanating from them. “What I would give to be able to pleasure you with my own hands…Your Grace.” The formality seemed to be added only because of habit. 

You bit down on your lip, the feeling mutual. You breathed quickly, inhaling his dark scent that belonged only to Yunho. “Me too,” you whispered as if you couldn't bear to say it louder. 

You hear pitter-pattering of feet, the screech of the sole of shoes along marble, and finally Wooyoung turns the corner. He braces himself against his thighs as he catches his breath. “....you bastard… Jeong Yunho…starting…without me!”

This causes you to meet Yunho’s eyes finally. His eyes mirror your own, wide and worried. “What is the meaning of this?” You demand.

Yunho backs off, but only slightly. “We should retire to your bed chambers first, Your Grace.” He uses his hand to point the way, bowing to a small degree and waiting for your feet to move. 

You sent a look to Wooyoung, attempting to read his face, but it’s cheerfully blank now. He sends you a winning smile, however, but it only causes you to grumble. The only way you’re finding out what’s going on is by following Yunho’s lead. You’ve been down this road before.

Once in your room, Wooyoung bounced on the balls of his feet while Yunho stood still. “Your Grace, we have figured out a work-around to you not being able to touch me.”

Your eyes flew open in excitement. “You figured out how to break the curse!”

Yunho winces. “Not exactly, Your Grace.”

Wooyoung whistles, seemingly innocent. “We figured out the next best thing!”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at Yunho. 

Wooyoung caught his tongue between his teeth naughtily. “You tell me what to do to Yunho. I’ll be like an extension of your hands.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

Yunho moves into your bubble, practically cutting off your view of Wooyoung. “I can tell you what I’d want to do to you. You would move your hands to my command. If you willed it, Your Grace.”

“Yunho…”

“Please please please!” Wooyoung begs, poking his head around Yunho’s broad body.

You take a step back and wring your hands through your gloves. “I don’t know…”

Yunho places a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder to halt his movements. “It’s fine Wooyoung. I told you she wouldn’t want to see me in a debauched state with your hands on me.”

Your face flames up and you slap your hands to it. The pure and unadulterated image of Wooyoung grasping Yunho’s cock in his hand and Yunho’s head cast backwards in ecstasy cannot be erased from your mind’s eye. 

“Wait…”

“Your Grace?” Yunho cocks his head, always waiting for your command. 

“You should show me. A demonstration is in order,” You order.

Wooyoung gleefully giggles and then he’s zooming to your bed. Yunho sends you one more unreadable look and then he is moving towards your bed as well. He sits against the headrest like he belongs there. Wooyoung raises his eyebrows. “Well?”

Oh, right, you had to instruct Wooyoung. “Ummm… unbutton Yunho’s shirt first.”

Wooyoung clucks his tongue at you. “Tell us how you’d do it, Your Grace.”

“I…I would lean in to take in Yunho’s smell and then unbutton his shirt. Slowly.” How were you going to do this and not end up a puddle on the floor?!

“Ooooh!” Wooyoung leans towards Yunho’s neck and takes a deep breath. “He does smell good.” Wooyoung’s deft fingers pluck at Yunho’s vest and shirt until it’s gaping open for your viewing pleasure. “What next, what next?” Wooyoung looks at you eagerly.

You find yourself climbing onto your bed, legs splaying under your body at the foot of it. Wooyoung unbuttons Yunho’s trousers next and pulls him out. Yunho is already hard and impressively long. 

“I’d torture him. I’d run my hand up and down his shaft for hours, to hear his pretty moans just for me,” You whisper and then you clamp your hands over your mouth.

Wooyoung’s smile couldn't have been more full of teasing. “Your Grace knows exactly what she wants.” Wooyoung wraps his hand around Yunho and strokes him slowly, achingly slow.

Yunho swallows loudly and lets out a devastating moan. It’s exactly like you imagined in your bed, late at night, when you would touch yourself after a hard day of teasing from Yunho. It was exactly what you wanted to hear. 

“Your…Grace…” Yunho attempts to pull himself out of the lust he’s feeling from Wooyoung’s hand. “Please imagine my hands skimming up your legs and playing with your most intimate parts. I want to see my fingers pushing in and out of your sweet hole.”

You press your lips together in nervousness. Could you really touch yourself in front of both Wooyoung and Yunho? Wooyoung jerks his chin, as if to say “get on with it!” and you scowl at him, sticking your tongue childishly at him. Still, you remove your gloves, a wary eye on how far the two men are from you.

You pull your petticoats up, spreading your legs, and let your fingers play along your thighs. They skim and tempt and then finally you reach your mound. You move your hands to your hips to pull down your undergarments but Yunho’s grunt stops you.

“Don’t,” he says hoarsely. “Keep them on.”

You push them to the side instead, wetting your finger along your folds, before pushing one into you. “Wha-what next?”

Wooyoung is biting his lip, tempted by both the pleasure he’s giving Yunho and the picture you’re giving him, fingers inside of yourself. Yunho’s chest is moving up and down quickly, like he can’t catch his breath. “I would bring you to as many orgasms as I could give you,” He growls.

Wooyoung tsks at Yunho this time. “She needs direction, Yunho, not a prediction of your sex life.”

Yunho spares Wooyoung a harsh glare before focusing on you. His eyes follow your fingers and you swear he gains some energy and confidence from it. “I would make you feel every inch of my fingers inside of you.”

It’s your turn to gulp. “Fingers?” You squeak.

Wooyoung grins. “You heard the butler. Better put another finger inside of yourself, Your Grace.”

You groan as you stretch yourself with two fingers. It feels good to do as Yunho says and you get a little excited, pumping your fingers inside of you faster. “So good.”

“Your Grace,” Yunho moans, “Please, can you play with my head?”

“Oh Yunho,” You gasp.

Wooyoung, after a quick nod from you, rolls his palm along the head of Yunho’s cock, causing Yunho to jolt. His hands fist your expensive Italian silk sheets in response. “Your Grace, your hands feel lovely on me. I’m sure they’re soft and small but so good to me.”

“Yun-Yunnie,” You mewl in response. “Need you. Need you so badly.”

“Co-come with me, Your Grace. Let us climax together!” Yunho cries out.

You focus purely on coming from your butler. You thrust your fingers in and out of your sopping hole. You aggressively rub your clit as well, chasing that high that’s just out of the reach. Wooyoung’s fist quickly makes good work of Yunho and soon the two of you are coming together. Yunho’s gravelly groan makes your cunt clench around your fingers and you come with a long, drawn out whine. 

All three of you are panting in need but you are well aware that there is no step after this; this is as far as you can go. Until you break the curse, until you can touch Yunho without killing him, this is the most you can manage.

“We’re doing this again,” Wooyoung, of all people, declares. “I’m going to make us food. You two talk.” And with all the energy of a whirlwind, Wooyoung is gone with the quiet hush of a closed door.

You push your skirts down and Yunho tucks himself back into his pants. “Your Grace? Was that enjoyable for you? Please tell me it pleased you.”

You smiled through unshed tears. “It was wonderful, Yunho.”

“Your Grace.” Yunho’s voice is hoarse. He reaches out but lets his hand fall before he can touch you. “We will break this curse. I will marry you and we will be together in every way we’ve always dreamed.”

“I hope so Yunho, I truly do,” You sob.

The two of you sit there, embracing each other with your eyes only, for that’s all you can do. Until Yunho suggests that he touch himself again to get you to stop crying. That is when you choke out a laugh and throw a pillow at him. And all is well in the household of the duchess of death and her butler. 

[gremlin-cryptid]

( @ya-boi-haru its done!)

Kaleidoscope content

Minor panic does occur

Chat Quixis being touch starved and Malitae not having that

————

Malitae hummed watching Quixis move around his island. They noticed how the other hovered slightly above the ground. Frowning Malitae moved to stand near them.

“Masterpiece? You alright?”

“I dont want to ruin your art”

“You won't ruin anything masterpiece, you make beautiful art!”

Malitae thought for a second before she weaved a pair of gloves. They silently handed them to Quixis, smiling.

“You sure?”

“Quixis my love when was the last time you touched someone or something?”

Quixis went silent at that. It had been a long time, probably since before their world collapsed. Probably not since the hug they had gotten from [Glitched] before everything went wrong.

“I don't remember…” they mumbled as a response. Malitae moved closer to them but Quixis flinched away. They didn't want to hurt her.

“You won't hurt me masterpiece, it'll be okay,” Malitae soothed gently tugging the gloves onto Quixis’ hands. Quixis realized in that moment how long it had been since they had gotten a hug. Or any sort of affection. Quixis felt the complete exhaustion wash over them as they leaned on Malitae. “See? You're not changing anything love,” Malitae whispered in their ear.

Quixis had forgotten how comforting it was to be held. They had long since forgotten the feeling, the feeling of being loved. But they had Malitae now, they had a wonderful partner. For at least a little longer.. Quixis knew this world would eventually crumble, they all did at one point or another.

They knew not to get attached.

But they had, they'd gotten attached to her, to the wonderful deity who was still reminding them that they hadn't hurt him. Quixis felt themself get picked up and carried somewhere. They were nervous at first but once they realized it was just Malitae they relaxed. They didn't know why the wack wouldn't touch her. But currently they didn't care.

For the first time in a very long time spanning longer than this world, Quixis felt safe.

————

Malitae watched from her building, Quixis was supposed to be back soon! They had had to leave to check on Icarus whom she had learned was their tether to this world. There was a flash of color at the edge of his vision. Malitae turned to see one of the blocks in their room quickly changing between various red blocks. Normally Malitae would see a block or two change when Quixis was about to show up but never this many or this quickly.

It seemed like they were warning her….

The reasoning behind was quickly answered as Malitae heard people landing outside. A quick glance outside said it was three people

The one who went by Ven, Creations kid, and Creation himself. Wait, why was Creation here? Malitae grew nervous. Quixis appeared next to them.

“I- I tried to stop them! Mal your in danger! I couldn't- I couldn't stop him!” Quixis rambled, panic filling their voice as they looked up at the taller. Malitae looked down at the smaller and pulled them into a hug.

“It'll be okay Masterpiece, they haven't found me before and they wont this time,” Malitae soothed running his hands through Quixis’ hair. Malitae could hear the intruders walking around looking for him but he couldn't care less. They wouldn't find her not while she had someone to protect.

————

Quixis had fallen asleep on Malitae while they waited for the intruders to leave. Malitae smiled and silently played with their hair. Fable had long since left their island and Malitae was relieved. Malitae felt herself drift off to sleep content to spend time with their love.

[bear-momma]

Benefits of an agere Journal! 💛

It's therapist approved! It's good to learn the triggers of your involuntary regression, and keeping a journal can help keep track of when it happens, how it happened, and any external factors that incited it. It's also good to keep track of voluntary regression, as the reasons you regressed/needed to utilize a coping mechanism are just as important!

Writing helps put emotions into words. It's often difficult when regressed to communicate what we need or how we feel. Journaling provides a neutral space where you can write anything you need to, and no one will see it unless you show them. It's a good way to get negative emotions out in a healthy way rather than a harmful one. And it doesn't just have to be words, using scribbles or stickers can be as effective as words when it comes to getting your emotions out.

It can be tedious to keep all your arts and crafts in one place, but it's very easy to put them in a journal! Coloring pages, worksheets, and holiday crafts can easily be glued into a journal for safekeeping. Sticker pages are some of my personal favorites, since I always have stickers and never know where to put them!

Feel free to add reasons why your journal helps you!!

[ozzgin]

I don't know your gender- but I had to assume it's a girl from your art with pigtails since I couldn't find a post that told about your gender, if you're not a girl, I'm sorry for misgendering you!

Ozz, the iconic haremer of all time, was a very pretty lady. She was very adored, had at least 9 quadripilition wifes and husbands. At this point, literally everyone was worshiping her and begging, no, DYING to be with her.

However, one anon was very annoyed by this. The 💠 anon. 💠 anon liked Ozz very much, but Ozz was busy with her harem, which made 💠 anon angry. Jealousy flashed through 💠 anon's eyes. “Why them, but not me?!” 💠 anon mumbled to themselves, as they watched Ozz being happy with everyone.

It was sickening to 💠 anon's stomach. Seeing Ozz get along with everyone except 💠 anon.

“What do they have that I don't?!” 💠 anon said to themselves again. Ozz didn't give 💠 anon not even a drop of attention, it made 💠 anon so angry… to the point they started thinking of kidnapping or breaking into Ozz's house.

It was 1 AM now, 💠 anon knew that all of them were asleep right now since they observed Ozz and her wifes+husbands a lot because Ozz wasn't giving them attention.

“Show time.” 💠 anon said to themselves. They quietly got in the house, they already stole the key since Ozz was too tired to realize she left the key literally at door.

It was quiet, everyone was sleeping and Ozz was at the right side of bed- so it was easy for 💠 anon to get her out of bed silently and without getting caught.

Ozz was still sleeping, when 💠 anon has kidnapped her. Well, respectfully of course. Nothing freeky or NSFW was involved. 💠 anon isn't that kind of a weirdo.

After 5 hours, Ozz woke up. “Wait… where am I? Where is my harem?” She said to herself as she looked at the floor in shock. She couldn't move nor go, since she was tied with many chains.

💠 anon giggled,

“That's what you get for ignoring me, Ozz. Even after my many warnings, you still continuously ignored me to the point that I had to kidnap you.” 💠 anon said.

“Now you'll never ignore me even if you wanted to.” 💠 anon said and smiled. With a gray bow on their head, and another gray bow on Ozz's head that 💠 anon gifted.

“We'll be together forever.”

-The 💠 anon.

Ngl I kicked my feet a little reading this. As my eyes scanned this masterpiece, I couldn't help but remember an old saying.

You got me here, 💠 anon. Hell, this could be a Yandere Heaven drama CD. Touché.

[ellecdc]

Mother, serious question mainly for my own self-esteem 😮‍💨😅

How do you think the boys (any of them really) would view a partner with like all sorts of facial piercings and like rat tails in their hair and funky colors(truly best describes as a queer little gremlin lol). Cause I know Marlene and Sirius have an alt rock aesthetic (I don't think I spelled that right) but as much as I love these characters I never feel like I would have fit in with them if I was really there ya know?

Idk it's kinda stupid but just curious on you're thoughts on this. They're just so cool and I would hope they would like me enough to at least be my friend if they were real 😮‍💨😖

okay first of all, love the title queer little gremlin; let's all capitalize those letters and add them to surveys when they ask you how you identify plsss??

Here's my take:

James:

I love (and follow religiously) the headcanon that James is pansexual but I believe that expands beyond just gender identity, if that makes sense?

It doesn't matter if you're male or female or anywhere in between or beyond or both or all

and I feel like it doesn't really matter what you look like to him

I feel like he loves people for their hearts, their minds, their interests, etc

I feel like he'd maybe be worried because....those had to hurt??? you do that on purpose? doesn't it hurt terribly? his poor sweet angel????

I also see him as the type of bf who would be like "oh! are we changing colours? which one's? can I help?" and will dutifully like, adorn gloves and sit in the bathroom breathing in dye fumes and chatting away with you while the two of you talk about everything and nothing - I think he'd love spending that time with you and it would be special bonding time

(also, have you seen the James fan art with him with a nose ring??? fuck me sideways)

Sirius:

you're so right re: alt-rock aesthetic etc

I think he'd find the facial piercings awesome tbh, you might even have inspired him to get one or more of his own

I think he'd make it almost a competition of who can dress the most grunge that day hahaha - but the two of you would make quite the couple

also? you look like the kind of person his posh, prissy, stuck up parents would hate seeing him with - that's totally a bonus

I see this guy as someone who loves hair care and would be horrified at how much/often you change your hair colour and would insist on helping you/buying the more expensive products/ensure you're doing it right to save your hair from too much damage

that's the only 'problem' I see him having

Remus:

idk, I kind of see him a little bit like James tbh; looks would be a little less important to him? like he doesn't care how you express yourself in terms of style and clothes

what would be important to him is that you're kind and patient, that you're openminded and considerate of others

I mean...he's littered with scars, is he not? He doesn't exactly look "normal" (derogatory) and would probably feel very similar to what you've described; like he doesn't feel he particularly 'fits in' with his friends

I see him having like, not long hair but like a decent head of curls, and he'd totally love if you braided a few little pieces of his hair like your 'rat tails'

I think he'd find the hair fun; you'd show up one day with new colours and I could see his face lighting up like 😃 "that looks great love; so fun"

Regulus:

he's tricky because he's so posh and stuck up lmfao

BUT

people also ship bartylus and I see so much Barty fan-art somewhat similar to how you've described yourself and if Reg likes Barty - he'd certainly like you too

Barty:

as mentioned above, I could totally see him having like a green streak in his hair or something

perhaps some piercings (I think he'd get piercings down below.....), tongue piercing, nose piercing, eyebrow piercing - I feel like he'd be down for it all himself, so he wouldn't mind it on you at all either

and again, as a guy with daddy issues, he'd be a lot like Sirius and think the better chance he has at dating someone who would sooooo piss of his dad - the better!

thanks for your ask babes <3

[sister-lucifer]

What Do The Magic Items Do? 

Did you see this poll? Curious to finally find out what your gift does? The wait is over! Here’s what your mundanely helpful magic items do: 

Glass Rose 🥀 

You’ve been given a beautiful glass rose! When you set it on the window sill to be displayed, the sun filters through it’s delicate glass petals and shines mysterious runes onto the floor and walls surrounding it. Your home is now imbued with plant magic; never again will a house plant, succulent or flower wilt on your watch, and never again will your fruit trees be barren! 

Ancient Tome 📖

You’ve been given a dusty ancient tome! The moment it touches your fingers, you can feel its power coursing through you. The veil between life and death has been lifted in your eyes only. You can now see, communicate with, and sense the spirits all around you, in your home and the earth itself. They aren’t all that interested in most small talk, but they give great advice. Listen to them and spread their wisdom! After all, no one understands life like the dead. 

Quill Pen 🪶 

You’ve been given an authentic quill pen! When you sit down to use it for the first time, you find yourself working with passion and fervor like never before. It’s as if your hand moves with a mind of its own! Never again will you have to battle art or writer’s block, nor will you be dissatisfied that your creation does not compare to the vision. Go forth, and create! 

Sea Glass 🌊 

You’ve been given a smooth piece of sea glass! When you take it into your hands, you immediately feel a sense of calm flow through you from the glass itself. The spirit of the ocean soothes you, melting away all of the day’s stress and allowing you to complete that task you’ve been putting off for days. If you listen closely, you may even hear the faint sound of a siren song that has been imprinted on the glass itself! 

Blank Scroll 📜 

You’ve been given a mysteriously blank scroll! When you take hold of it, it doesn’t immediately do anything, but the next time you wonder aloud where a lost object is, it starts to glow. In a moment an image of the object’s location has formed, and the closer you get to it, the brighter it glows. Never again will you spend hours searching for a hair tie or the cap that fell off your drink bottle or that one specific sweater! 

Golden Bracelet 💛

You’ve been gifted a priceless golden bracelet! Never again will you be left without the proper outfit or accessory for an event. This magic piece of jewelry can transform into anything that can be worn; earrings, a dress, shoes, what have you, and it knows exactly what you need for that special night out. You’ll forget what it’s like to feel underdressed! 

Bejeweled Dagger 🗡️ 

You’ve been given a wonderful bejeweled dagger! The impossibly strong metal of its blade can cut through anything except flesh. Duct tape, annoying clothing tags, plastic packaging, none of it will ever slow you down now, and never again will you have to explain the embarrassing story of how you sliced your hand open while trying to get the Amazon box open! 

Preserved Moth Wings 🦋 

You’ve been given a perfectly preserved pair of moth wings! They’re frozen in their resin case, but their magic is not lost. Clumsiness and a heavy-handed nature are no longer your foes. Never again will you accidentally swipe something off a shelf or make the embarrassing mistake of running directly into a countertop while visiting someone’s house. You’re as light as a moth!

Obsidian Mirror 🪞 

You’ve been gifted a spotless obsidian mirror! Do you have memory problems? Do you often forget important objects, events, or tasks? Are you often frustrated because you know you’re forgetting something, but you don’t know what? Not anymore, you don’t! When you hold this mirror in your hands and stare into it, it shows you a vision of what you’re forgetting. It also functions as a regular mirror, which is pretty helpful too!

Vial of Glowing Liquid 🧪 

You’ve been given a small vial of glowing liquid! If you often find yourself too indecisive, tired, or short on time to make food, this little bottle is going to be your best friend. Just a drop on a plate will instantly transform into the meal you’ve been craving; steak cooked exactly how you like, a PB&J without that one bite that’s just peanut butter! No more fighting sensory issues or a lack of energy just to have a meal. And don’t worry, it’s magic, the vial will never empty!

Antique Pocket Watch 🕰️ 

You’ve been given a hand crafted antique pocket watch! If you’re often scrambling to meet a deadline or finish that awful task when there’s just not enough time, this magic watch will take a weight off your shoulders. Just click the button once and instantly circumstances will warp in your favor. Your boss just extended that deadline! Your friend wants to come over for dinner, they’ll help you do the dishes in half the time! Sometimes life just goes too fast, everyone needs a bit more time now and then! 

20 Sided Die 🎲 

You’ve been gifted an ornate 20 sided die! Except…all the sides are blank? That is, until you ask a question and give it a good roll. In an instant the die will come up with advice to aid you in your endeavors! Whether you need to choose between two amazing outfits or figure out how to gently reject that guy from the supply store, this little roller always has just the thing. 

What object did you get? How will you use it? And most importantly, will you use it wisely?

[pezberrywhoreee]

'Controlled'

pairing: dom!janis imi'ike x sub!regina george

words: 2,685

content warning: harddom!janis, puppyslutsub!regina, bdsm, d/s dynamic, hypno kink, puppy play, forced puppyfication, cnc, strap, humiliation, corruption, oral fixation, orgasm torture, overstimulation, frottage and grinding, spitplay (drool)

summary: she doesn't know what's good for her, but she'll learn

note: any tist's or people that do hypno (whether erotic or not), i want to make it clear that it was an artistic choice to not include dialogue of each suggestion of triggers that janis gives. i thought that it would get too repetitive and it could've potentially made the reaction a little underwhelming. however, i fully understand that suggestions must be made in order for a trigger to essentially function. i don't know if im overthinking it or not but im really not out here trying to misrepresent the art that is hypnosis with my subpar knowledge :D

"What makes you think you can talk to me like that?" Janis stalked behind the taller girl, her voice eerily calm and collected by her neck.

Regina only scoffed in return, finding the girls attempt at intimidation humorous at best.

"Kneel right now" the brunette ordered, her low tone already tickling Regina's inherent need to submit to the woman. "Fucking kneel!" Janis raised her voice when the blonde gave her an unimpressed look.

They had been playfully arguing about how Regina would make a beautifully pliable puppy, to which the blonde counter argued that the brunette was crazy to think that she would ever have such little dignity, especially in front of someone who knew her to be so confident in the way she held herself.

It was when Regia kept insisting a little too seriously that Janis was "delusional" that the brunette knew it was the perfect time to start the scene.

Janis grabbed the girl's wrist and dragged her into their shared bedroom. Not one part of her was surprised when Regina didn't put up a fight. She would never admit it but she arguably preferred submission over dominance. It was very obvious but she liked to think that it wasn't.

The blonde held the fierce eye contact that the brunette threatened her with, her peripheral catching how the girl's chest heaved in rage. Regina couldn't help the way her eyebrow cocked along with the smirk that pulled at her lips, which ultimately drove Janis to quickly push the girl onto the floor by her head, forcing weight on it until her knees gave out and she dropped on the hardwood.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" the blonde exclaimed as Janis forced her arms behind her back and gave her a warning and expectant look to stay put.

"You don't know what's good for you, Regina" the brunette hummed, controlling the rage in her voice as she moved to retrieve a couple of accessories to aid what she was about to put the stubborn girl through.

After Regina collected herself from being called her name by her girlfriend, she scoffed once more at her words. "So you're going to force me to find out what is?" she challenged, cocking her head though she kept her position.

"Oh please, don't act like you don't want it!" Janis retorted as she stepped back in front of the kneeling girl.

Regina rolled her eyes because she knew that the girl was right.

Janis joined the blonde on the floor, sitting in front of her to bring her to eye level. "Deep breath" she commanded as she forced eye contact with the blonde once more. She smiled as the girl complied, seeing a bit of her reserve dissolving. "Relax your body, untense, let your knees and arms slack if they need to" the brunette tapped into the familiar soft, monotone part of her voice.

On the exhale, the blonde allowed her body to relax. Her head dropped slightly and her arms unlinked, falling by her sides. Her weight fell into her hips, pushing down into her thighs.

"Good girl, one more time~". Janis encouraged as she mirrored the action, hopefully pushing the girl to feel more comfortable. "Let those eyes fall, listen to your body", she hummed as she kept a close eye on the girl's breathing.

Regina slumped on the exhale further. Her head closer to lolling but still not fully dropped, her stomach more pushed out as her chest hallowed.

"Such a good girl. Every time I say 'good girl' you are going to feel yourself relaxing deeper into that safe, secure place. Don't resist it" the brunette continued, smiling as she saw the girls eyes starting to flutter shut and become one with her breathing.

"Now, every time I touch your forehead and say 'stop' you're going to return to your normal state. Your breathing will be normal as if you just woke up. When you hear a snap, you're going to fall two times deeper into that safe, dumb, thoughtless place. Nod if you understand". Janis hummed, pleased with how quickly the girl was falling into trance.

The blonde gave a slight nod, showing the brunette that she was actively listening.

She brought her finger up and tapped her forehead, humming the release trigger. Regina blinked her eyes open, a tired smile on her face as the brunette came into sight again. "Very good~. How was that, baby?", she asked as her hand reached to stroke at the girl's thigh.

Regina gave her a less powerful scoff. "Do you think this is actually going to work?" she got out just before the snap resonated in her head and she instantly dropped deeper into trance.

Janis let a soft laugh leave her at the irony of the moment. "I'm going to touch your forehead and you will undress unknowingly. It will feel instinctual and natural and you will not realise until I point it out. You're doing so well, baby" she suggested, her tone becoming a bit more commanding, but still recognisable to the tranced girl.

As soon as Regina felt the touch to her face, her eyes fluttered open and she took in the girl's pleased face. She reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head and handing it to the girl in front of her. Janis took it with a chuckle at which Regina furrowed her brows.

The blonde pushed back on her ass to peel off the boxers that she was wearing, handing that to the girl too. Janis took a moment to acknowledge the light sheen of arousal that glazed the girls cunt. She waited for Regina to kneel again before piping up.

"Notice anything?" the brunette gestured to her body, fighting a smirk.

Regina looked down, taken aback by her naked state. "Oh fuck...I'm getting wet" she mumbled, feeling the growing throbbing at her cunt. She fought the confusing urge to let her hands fall between her thighs.

Janis let that smirk make itself known. "Well that was quick, huh?" she teased lightly.

"Shut the fuck up—" Regina just managed to retort before that snap triggered that familiar response that now become muscle memory.

The brunette took this opportunity to secure a leather collar around the girl's neck, making sure it wasn't too tight but tight enough to always be felt. She also slipped a leather harness onto her hips, fastening the buckles in the front snugly.

"When I touch your nose and say 'puppy' you are going to only think puppy thoughts. You will act like a puppy and nothing will exist besides following commands and being a good girl.". Janis hummed, feeling herself really getting into it now.

The trigger elicited a low whine in the back of Regina's throat as she came back into something akin to reality. These puppy-like sounds continued as she planted her fist against the ground and pushed her back up, now on all fours with her back arched.

She briefly shook her head, as if to rid of the hazy feeling in her body which Janis found endearing.

The blonde looked up at the shorter girl, her tongue threatening to loll out.

"Let go, puppy" Janis encouraged softly as she moved to stand back up. She hummed when the girl let her tongue hang out, little pants accompanying the act.

Regina started to barely noticeably wiggle her ass along with her panting but was encouraged by the hummed "good girl" that once again fell from the brunette's lips.

The brunette watched as the girl began to lightly shake from the amount of attention she was getting, a satisfied grin appearing on her face.

She reached for the attachable toy that connects to the harness as she spoke. "Puppy's don't think. You're too dumb to think on your own and you need someone smarter to think for you, isn't that right?" Janis hummed, her tone now mocking.

The blonde nodded, a wide smile obstructed by her tongue.

"Such a good girl-" she hummed before tapping the girls forehead again "in heat: 8". A shit eating grin appeared on the brunette's face as she attached the toy into the rings of the harness, quickly averting her attention back to the panting girl.

Regina sunk into the ground with another throaty whine, her tongue disappearing periodically to whimper. She looked up at the other girl with begging eyes, her ass pushed out.

"Please, mommy" she whined as she dropped her head, hopefully muffling the desperate plea.

The brunette tried to hide her surprise at the infrequent honourific that so beautifully rolled off the girls tongue.

"Uh uh, puppy's don't speak, you know that! Be a good girl and bark for me. In heat: 9" the brunette played around with triggers, laughing sadistically when the girl quietly barked as her face was tapped.

Janis marveled at the panting girl, in love with how deep in her mind she already was. Her eyes caught how the blonde was pushing her hips into the air, cocking a brow.

"Come here, puppy!" her voice jumped up an octave as she sat down on the edge of the bed, patting her lap enticingly.

The brunette hummed contently as Regina crawled over to her without question. She was rewarded with a few a scritches behind her ear which she leaned into. Janis couldn't help but find it endearing to see the girl give into what they both knew was good for her.

"What are we going to do with this mouth?" Janis teased as she ran her fingers along Regina's lips, pushing them into her practically drooling mouth and collecting some saliva to spread on her chin.

She chuckled as the vibrating girl's eyes went between her face and the toy resting on her pelvis, her eyes intense and eager.

Janis gave her a challenging look at which the blonde took the opportunity to nuzzle against the leather decorating the girl's hips, whining while doing so.

"Oh—do you want something?" the brunette taunted as she continued to softly stroke the girl's head. Regina let her tongue loll out once more before giving a low growl in frustration.

Janis knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to not think. She needed to turn her brain off. Now there's no reality in where she would admit this but the brunette could see right through her, and besides they had excessively talked about it during negotiation.

"Is the puppy all bothered? Is she not getting what she wants?" the brunette mocked as she slipped her shin between the girl's spread legs. She gave her a gentle nod as desperate eyes looked up at her.

With a growl the blonde lowered her cunt against the girl's leg, her eyes fluttering and another whine resounding in her throat. "You better put that mouth to use, baby" she purred as she took hold of both the girl's head and the toy, running the tip along waiting lips.

Janis bit her lip as the girl stuck her tongue out and took the silicon tip into her mouth, her hips starting a rather quick rhythm as she rubbed against the brunette. Her eyes squeezed shut at the heightened sensations that were powering her body.

The blonde started to feel thoughts fading away, her mind slowly becoming empty. This only increased her already debilitating arousal.

The shorter girl's hand found a comfortable grip on the girl's jaw, lightly forcing her to take the strap deeper into her mouth. She wanted to show her that filling her holes could potentially make up for being blank otherwise.

"All it took was a little coercion and mocking to get you right where you belong. To get you doing the only thing you're good for. Good girls only think about pleasing" she purred as she stared down into lidded eyes that held nothing but space. A heavy groan left her as she felt whines reverberating through the toy and push against her own cunt.

Just as Regina took the girl into her throat, she felt a grip on her wrist that elicited a stuttering of her hips, her eyes rolling into her skull and her jaw falling slack from its previous suction.

The grip on her jaw tightened "Who said you could stop?" the brunette taunted as she held her grasp on that wrist, prolonging the sudden orgasm.

Muffled moans fell from stretched lips as she instinctively continued to lave her tongue over the toy, eyes begging for mercy.

Janis let go of her wrist, a satisfied smirk plastered on her flushed face. "Good girl! You took that so well~" she hummed.

Regina panted around the length on her tongue, her eyes falling closed at the slight suggestion of falling deeper into trance. Her hips started up again, momentarily jumping due to the sensitivity of her cunt.

The brunette threw her head back as the girl resumed her eager sucking, the flat of the harness continuing to press against her.

She waited until the girl took her into her throat, her eyes fluttering at the fullness. "Statue" Janis hummed, tapping the girl's forehead once again and sighing contently when she completely froze.

The brunette chuckled as took a hold of the girl's hair and started pushing into her esophagus mercilessly, her breath hitching as she forced past the blonde's gag reflex. She stared down at the frozen girl in awe as she was literally transformed into a manipulatable subject to be used.

"Good girl" Janis groaned as she gave her a couple of deeper thrusts as to feel that friction against her aching cunt. "Such a good, pliable puppy" the soft laugh turning into a breathless moan.

A new wave of arousal shot through her as she caught sight of Regina's teary eyes, the trigger having had disabled her from blinking. Reluctantly she tapped the girl's head again, muttering a release before giving the girl some control over her own head.

An agonised cry left the blonde as she felt a grip on her wrist once more. Her thighs grasped at the shin between them. The soft touch of the brunette wiping the tears from her cheek made her realise just how sensitive her skin had become.

"Oh is it too much, puppy?" Janis mocked, feigned care in her voice as she let go of the shaking wrist. She couldn't help but admire how the girl trembled beneath her assault just like she was meant to.

The brunette guided Regina's lips away from the toy to allow her to fill her lungs and clear her uncomfortably empty throat. The blonde looked up at her with dead, watering eyes that begged to be consumed by the other girl's essence, to have someone make a decisions for her.

"Go ahead, baby" Janis whispered as she felt the girl's hips regain its effort in rutting against her leg. Regina wrapped her arms around the girl's thigh to brace herself before her hips took control over her being.

Her lips fell open in a pant, causing a steady stream of drool to pour out of her vacant mouth. A quiet growl left the brunette as the thin liquid made contact with her thigh, watching as a needy tongue pushed out more of what was left of the blonde's brain.

"That's it~ my undignified girl" she purred as she aided the humping girl by flexing her leg against her core. Janis knew that Regina would have scoffed at the comment if her mind wasn't currently leaking out of her holes.

The whines in the blonde's throat increased in pitch which was Janis's cue to press her forehead one last time and utter "In heat: 10", causing the girl to instantly tumble over the edge of another wrecking orgasm. Unintelligible pained sounds fell from drooling lips as her head collapsed in exhaustion, hips stuttering reluctantly.

"Such a good girl" Janis hummed, stroking the blonde's flushed face.