#a cocktail of your inquiries

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [14]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 13 | Fic Masterlist | Part 15

"J-Jinjoo? Is that you?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you observed the scars scattered across her body, wounds that hadn't been there the last time you saw her. The severity of her punishment was evident, and judging by the marks, it seemed unlikely they would fade anytime soon, if ever.

The younger girl smirked bitterly, "Are you happy now? All five of us have been beaten nearly to death, left with scars that will likely never fully heal in this lifetime. Mother will serve until the day she dies, and the three of us will pay for a good chunk of our lives!"

As if anticipating your inquiry about the former minister, she shook her head and balled her fists, "Father has endured enough beatings and torture to render him almost paralysed, and guess what? He's been exiled to god knows where. If you want more details, perhaps you should ask your husband about it."

Your heart sank at the mention of Seonghwa, "Wh-what do you mean? Your punishments were determined by His Majesty. Why would my husband be involved—"

She scoffed incredulously, "Did you truly forget who General Park really is? He sat back and enjoyed the show while we suffered, allowing the torture to happen. That absolute monster—he did this to us; he ruined our lives forever. I mean, sure, we weren't great to you either, but look at you now, Lady Park. It's all thanks to us that you're who you are today."

Noting your silence, she continued with a sly edge, "Though I wouldn't celebrate too soon if I were you. Who's to say when he'll show his true colours once he's grown tired of you?"

Before you could respond, Hongjoong appeared at your side, his tone laced with disbelief, "Worry about yourself first, peasant. Oh, the audacity of this young lady. Do you even realise who you're addressing? How dare you try to twist this around and play the victim? You and your family got what you deserved. Count yourself lucky that you're still alive and well, hm?"

The dressmaker turned to signal the factory owner and the elderly man immediately rushed over anxiously, "S-sir, what brings you to this part of the factory? P-please, allow me to escort you out."

Halting the man, Hongjoong gestured towards your stepsister, "This one right here was being disrespectful to Lady Park. Would you mind teaching her a good lesson for me? Otherwise, I may have to reconsider our choice of fabric supplier."

Suddenly realising her mistake, Jinjoo trembled like a leaf under the owner's stern gaze. He bowed repeatedly at you and your friend, "O-of course, sir! Rest assured, I'll ensure she never forgets her manners again. You have my word!"

As Hongjoong guided you out of the store, you remained silent, your thoughts swirling from the disturbing revelation that the general had been involved in the punishments of your family.

Walking alongside the dressmaker, the weight of the revelation bore down on you like a suffocating blanket. The image of Seonghwa, once your loving husband, now tainted with the sinister aura of someone who could watch others suffer without flinching, haunted your thoughts. Sure, you were there to witness him extracting the confession from your father, but you never fathomed that he would actually be involved in the subsequent punishment.

Your stepsister's words echoed in your mind, stirring up a cocktail of dread and uncertainty. Could it be true? Have you really forgotten the true nature of General Park? The man you had once trusted implicitly now appeared in a new, unsettling light. The realisation sent shivers down your spine as you contemplated the implications.

Fear gnawed at your insides as you entertained the chilling possibility that if he could inflict such cruelty upon your family, what would stop him from doing the same to you if ever he grew displeased? The thought sent a chill down your spine, leaving you questioning everything you once believed about the man you loved.

Throughout the remainder of the day, you remained unusually quiet, your thoughts clearly elsewhere. Hongjoong opted not to pry, deciding to wait until you were back within the safety of your home before broaching the subject. Despite his efforts to lighten the mood and draw a smile from you, it seemed futile. He was acutely aware of the impact Jinjoo's words must have had on you, especially given your delicate emotional state. After enduring years of mistreatment, he could see how trusting others fully must be an immense challenge.

Later that evening as you sat down for dinner together, he finally broke the silence, setting down his chopsticks with a sigh, "What's on your mind, Lady Park? You know you can talk to me, right?"

You paused at his question, pondering whether to confide in him about your inner turmoil. How would he respond? Would he be disappointed in you? After all, the general was his close friend. It seemed likely he would take Seonghwa's side and defend him. Though your husband hadn't given you any reason to doubt his affection thus far, his decision to hide this information from you must carry some significance.

"It's nothing, Hongjoong. Maybe I'm just feeling a bit weary after our day out," You mumbled, resuming your meal and hurriedly stuffing more food into your mouth to avoid conversation. He frowned at your behaviour and gently intervened, placing a hand on yours, "Hey, hey, slow down. The food isn't going anywhere; it's all yours."

With his arms crossed over his chest, he shook his head disapprovingly, "Who are you trying to fool with that lie? You might be able to deceive anyone, even your dumb husband, but not me. You were perfectly fine until you ran into your... into her."

You froze, caught red-handed in your attempt to deflect. You should have known better than to think you could fool Hongjoong with such a feeble excuse. Instead of scolding you, he softened, uncrossing his arms and leaning in, his eyes full of understanding.

"Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't there by your side to defend you earlier. I should have prevented all of that from happening today; it's entirely my fault. When I heard what she said to you, I knew it would affect you. And now, seeing you like this, I can tell I was right. Don't you dare believe any of her ridiculous words, you hear me?"

Setting down your chopsticks shakily, you turned to face him, despair etched clearly on your features, "But Hongjoong, what if there's truth in what she was saying? Wh-what if he eventually grows tired of me? Will I end up suffering like all of them too?"

The dressmaker didn't have the heart to berate you, understanding your doubts despite the internal frustration he felt at your stepsister for undoing all the trust you had in Seonghwa with just a few words.

He released a deep breath and offered a smile, "Have you forgotten everything I've told you about how he's different when it comes to you? He would never do anything to hurt you; I can vouch for him. As ruthless as General Park can be, he reserves that side only for those who deserve it. Your family deserves every bit of the punishment they received for the harm they caused you. You shouldn't feel any guilt for them, you know?"

Hongjoong leaned in closer, his tone softening, "Trust me, she's just jealous of you. It's obvious she's envious of the life you have now, and she's intentionally trying to stir up trouble between you and your husband. Don't let her get to you. You and Seonghwa have something special, something she'll never understand."

As his words sank in, you felt a slight sense of relief wash over you. It did make sense that Jinjoo would resort to such tactics out of jealousy. After all, her resentment towards you had always been evident. You felt ashamed for entertaining the possibility of your husband hurting you when he had only ever been good towards you.

However, the memory of the scars on your stepsister's body lingered in your mind, knowing the ones on your father and stepmother were even worse than what you've seen. While you recognised that your family deserved the consequences of their actions, the realisation that Seonghwa had played a part in their suffering made you feel sick to your stomach. Your emotions were in disarray; it was difficult to act nonchalant after learning the unsettling truth.

Despite the turmoil raging within you like a storm, you didn't want to add to your friend's concerns. Putting on a smile, you nodded, "You're right, Hongjoong. I must be silly to let her words affect me like this." You forced a light chuckle and went back to your meal, hoping to change the subject.

Though the dressmaker felt somewhat reassured that you acknowledged his advice, he sensed you were still troubled by what you had learned. He could only hope that with time, you would be able to move past Jinjoo's words. The last thing Seonghwa needed upon his return from war was to find his beloved wife fearful of him.

Damnit, I shouldn't have taken her there.

"General Park hasn't arrived yet, you say? Well, who would have thought he'd become such a loving husband? This Lady Park must be quite remarkable for him to—"

Rolling his eyes, the general heard the familiar deep voice gossiping about him from outside the main tent, where meetings would take place. With a loud clear of his throat, he pulled open the flap and entered, his presence immediately causing everyone in the room to straighten up, "I'm here now, Mingi. It would be great if you could cease your idle chatter and get to work at once."

"S-sir! It's been a while, you look good—"

"Save it, Officer Song."

Acknowledging the command with a salute, the taller man swiftly proceeded to the central table, laying out numerous documents detailing the strategies he had developed, "Yes sir, here are some of the plans I've drafted thus far."

Seonghwa nodded approvingly and approached him. As he listened to his colleague's explanations, a satisfied smirk graced his lips, affirming his keen judgement in promoting the right individual.

General Officer Song had risen to become one of the most esteemed military strategists in Joseon, all thanks to General Park's recommendation. Your husband was notoriously difficult to impress, but Mingi's exceptional talents caught his attention during a particularly challenging battle many years ago. Despite being a mere low-ranking soldier at the time, he devised a brilliant plan that ultimately turned the odds in their favour, leading to an epic victory.

"Ruhon is known to be rash in their decision-making; their impulsiveness is evident in their sudden attack plans," The taller man explained, his fingers tracing over strategic points on the map, "We can capitalise on this by striking where they least expect us. Through my research, I've identified blind spots that will catch them off guard. May I have authorisation to deploy troops to these locations, sir?"

The general nodded decisively, "I have faith in your judgement, Officer Song. You've never let me down in all our years together; I'm confident this time will be no exception."

"Thank you, sir."

Once all the necessary arrangements had been finalised and everyone had been briefed on their roles, the meeting came to an end. While the other officers and soldiers hurried off to relay the information discussed and carry out their assigned duties, Officer Song lingered behind, sharing a knowing look with the general.

Taking a seat beside the person he considered his friend and mentor, Mingi offered a genuine smile, "Congratulations on your recent marriage, hyung-nim."

Returning the smile, Seonghwa gave the taller man a pat on the back, "Thank you, Mingi-yah. I hope you've been well these past few years. Once this is all over, might I hear news of your own wedding?"

Blushing faintly, the strategist shook his head, "Unfortunately, I haven't found my one yet. But I am happy for you, general. Everyone in Joseon seems to know about your new wife and her difficult past. I'm just glad you found each other. I heard you were granted a few days with Lady Park before coming here. How is she holding up?"

The mention of his wife brought a pang of discomfort, evoking memories of your heartbreaking farewell. Throughout his journey to the war site, your husband couldn't shake the image of your tear-stained face, "She's... she's handling it better than I expected, or maybe that's just what she's showing me. When I told her about my departure, she didn't break down. Instead, she smiled at me with understanding and simply asked when I would be leaving."

"Huh, did she really?" Mingi mused, a hint of admiration in his tone, "I suppose now I understand why you're so smitten with her. It seems she's truly as delightful as the rumours claimed." Even from the snippets of what he had heard, the strategist could tell that Lady Park was indeed an extraordinary person, and he could see why Seonghwa held you in such high regard.

With a nod, the general's expression grew sombre, "Indeed, she truly is. But I won't lie and say I'm not worried about her," He admitted, "When she first arrived, I treated her poorly. I mistook her for just another spoiled brat, only to learn she's suffered a life far worse than mine. I'll never forgive myself for that. From that moment on, I vowed to give her nothing but the best. You know, I had plans for a grand wedding, a chance to make up for everything..."

Officer Song's face mirrored your husband's solemnity as realisation dawned, "Then this war happened..."

"Yeah, but that's not all," Seonghwa continued, his voice heavy with worry, "I just... God, what if I don't return to her? I've only just found her..."

Bowing his head, the general felt overwhelmed by his concerns. Mingi placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "Have you forgotten who you are? You're General Park of Joseon, the King's most trusted warrior. If anyone can make it out of this war unscathed, it would be you. Trust me, you will make it back to Lady Park. And you better invite me to that wedding of yours." The strategist said, his words laced with a touch of humour.

Despite the weight of his worries, your husband chuckled softly, nodding gratefully at the reassurance, "Of course, Mingi."

Before the two could continue their conversation, a soldier barged into the tent, panting heavily, "General Park! Some of Ruhon's troops have been spotted approaching. We need you out there!"

Alright, let's get this over with.

Meanwhile, back in the general's estate, you found yourself in your usual spot in the pavilion. Lady etiquette books lay scattered around, forgotten as your gaze drifted distantly over the tranquil lotus pond.

Regardless of the overwhelming emotions that had consumed you the day before upon learning the truth about your family's punishments, you couldn't deny the longing in your heart for Seonghwa's presence. Being alone in the pavilion now felt even lonelier than before. Accustomed to his warm embrace, his absence left a void that seemed impossible to fill.

However, as you contemplated the absence of your husband's comforting presence, conflicting emotions surged within you.

No matter how hard you tried, you simply couldn't shake the unsettling realisation that the same hands that held you close were also stained with the blood of countless others. Hongjoong's reassurances echoed in your mind, yet a nagging doubt persisted. While he assured you that the general would never harm you, your moral compass grappled with the knowledge that he was capable of inflicting pain without hesitation, regardless of justification.

It just felt so... wrong.

"Ah, is this the famous lotus pond you've mentioned, Miss Jang?" The unexpected voice startled you out of your thoughts. Turning to confirm your suspicions, you let out a loud gasp at the sight of the fourth prince standing before you.

You scrambled to your feet immediately, performing the formal bow, "Y-your Highness! What brings you here?"

Rushing up behind Yeosang, the head maid panted heavily, bowing deeply before you and shooting an apologetic glance, "Mistress, I am so sorry for not alerting you of our guest! His Highness showed up spontaneously without making an appointment prior and wouldn't allow any of us to announce his arrival."

Eunsook nearly had a heart attack when one of the maids informed her that the prince had arrived unannounced, waiting to be greeted at the entrance of the estate. Jongho was absent, having gone out with a few other servants to replenish household essentials. Rushing over, she found that Yeosang had insisted on surprising you personally, leaving her flustered and anxious. With her master now at war, it was evident to her that His Highness was attempting to make an advance on you.

The prince couldn't help but grin at how adorably confused and caught off guard you looked, "Yes, that's right. I wanted to surprise you, Miss Jang. Are you surprised?"

Quickly regaining your composure and summoning the poise of a noblewoman, you nodded, "I guess I am, Your Highness," You said before turning to dismiss the elderly woman with an assuring smile, "It's alright, Eunsook. I was growing slightly bored anyway. Come, Prince Yeosang, let me show you around, and you can tell me why you've decided to pay us a surprise visit."

Recalling his fondness for flowers, you led him through the winding paths of the estate's gardens, each turn revealing a new burst of colour and fragrance. Sunlight danced through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the well-tended flowerbeds, "Now, I know our humble garden obviously cannot compare to the ones in the palace, but I am very proud of our servants' hard work. What do you think, Your Highness?"

While your eyes remained fixed on the colourful flowers, the prince's gaze was captivated by you, his admiring gaze lingering on your graceful movements amidst the blooms.

"I agree; I think it's absolutely enchanting. While it may be humble, it surpasses the beauty of any of the palace's gardens." He remarked, his words carrying a subtle double meaning. He wondered if you could discern the implied compliment; he was indirectly comparing you to the royals in the palace. In his eyes, you outshone any of his sisters, his father's concubines, and all the potential candidates ever presented to him.

Yeosang found himself torn between amusement and slight disappointment as you appeared genuinely oblivious to the deeper meaning of his words. Your reply, however, pleased him, "Thank you, Your Highness. It seems you have good taste," You attempted a joke. Fortunately, he laughed in response, "I think I do too, my lady."

He halted his steps and turned to you, "I have a question," He said, and you nodded, encouraging him to continue, "Go on. Ask away, Your Highness."

"Even with all these beautiful flowers here, is your favourite still the lotus?" Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the lotus, a symbol closely tied to memories of your husband. Determined not to show any hint of turmoil, you nodded and answered steadily, "Of course, my prince."

The prince kept his smile intact, "Hmm, I see. Is it solely because the general dedicated a pond full of them to you?"

When you remained silent, he clarified, "What I mean is, if you had the freedom to choose, which flower would truly be your favourite? Instead of accepting what's given to you, I believe you should have the right to make your own choice." It was another subtle suggestion that you should be able to choose your own path, including your life partner, rather than conforming to arrangements made for you.

It appeared that you had grasped the underlying meaning of his words this time. You blinked rapidly as you gathered your thoughts before letting out a chuckle, "Ah, I suppose that hadn't crossed my mind," Shifting the topic, you continued, "Anyway, let us move on from idle chatter. Why don't you enlighten me on the purpose of your surprise visit, Your Highness? With my husband away, I'm unsure if there's anything I can assist you with."

Sensing your slight discomfort, Yeosang decided to get straight to the point, "Right, I'm aware General Park is currently away, bravely fighting for our country. That's precisely why I'm here—I was hoping you would be able to represent him at my upcoming birthday banquet. Her Majesty, the Queen, has also expressed her desire to meet you in person."

Your eyes widened at that, "Sh-she has?"

« Preview of Part 15 »

Feeling like you were left with little choice but to agree, you accepted the prince's invitation to his upcoming birthday banquet, scheduled just a week away.

Since bidding him goodbye, you had confined yourself to Seonghwa's study, burying yourself in your studies. The weight of the upcoming royal event weighed heavily on you. It would mark your debut in royal circles, and facing it without your husband by your side added to your nerves. Could anyone fault you for feeling anxious?

You contemplated seeking help. While Eunsook was supportive, her knowledge of palace affairs was limited. Would Hongjoong or Yunho be able to offer insight? Perhaps Jongho, with his years of service to the general, might have some valuable advice.

A light bulb went off in your head when you remembered San, the King's royal secretary. Surely, he would be the most knowledgeable about the matters you needed help with. However, your enthusiasm waned when you realised you had no means of reaching out to him. Moreover, you doubted he would have time to spare for a little woman like you, given his busy schedule.

Palming your forehead tiredly, you suddenly noticed a shadowy figure loitering suspiciously outside the study. Their silhouette, visible through the paper walls, didn't resemble anyone familiar, and it sent a shiver down your spine. If it had been one of the estate staff, they usually would have announced themselves.

Jumping to your feet, you instinctively grabbed the inkstone from Seonghwa's desk, preparing to defend yourself. With cautious steps, you approached the entrance where the unknown person lingered, apparently trying to catch a glimpse of you, "Who's there? I know you're not one of my staff. If you do not reveal yourself, I won't hesitate to hurt you!"

Your yelp escaped when the individual abruptly swung the door open in response to your words, "Woah woah, it's just me!" He reassured, causing you to pause with the stone halfway raised as you blinked in recognition, "O-oh, it's you..."

Scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, he apologised, "I'm sorry for startling you, Lady Park. In case you forgot, my name is Wooyoung. I'm here on the general's orders to assist you should you need anything."

Dun dun dunnn! Wonder what Prince Yeosang has up his sleeves heeheeee anyway, I just wanted to tell y'all that I'm about to have another crazy week ahead. So, like this part, the next one is probably gonna take a while too😭

Also, Happy Lunar New Year to those of you who celebrate it! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[byullielle]

Drunk Antics // SKZ!Bf x Reader

how i imagine the kids when they're drunk. (still waiting for the day one of them drink with youngji)

Tags: Alcohol Consumption, Fluff, Est. Relationship

Disclaimer: click on the pictures for a clearer resolution ₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝⁠(⁠　ﾟ⁠∀⁠ ﾟ⁠ ⁠)⁠◟⁠ ⁠⁾⁠⁾

hyung line

bang chan

chan is one of the group lightweights. i said what i said. i know he seems like the drinker but i beg to differ—but really it depends on what he drinks, he can take three cans of beer with a few shots but if he goes out to a bar he tends to be carried away with 2 cocktails and a bunch of shots that render him weak in the knees after an hour and a half.

a flirty drunk. will wink at you, spew out the most flirty and corny picks to man. "wait i need to breathe, you're taking my breath away,"

"you're missing something," and when you ask what is it he'll slip your hands in yours and wiggle his brows, "my hands,"

"your lips are kinda dry," he points out and you simply raise your brows in inquiry before he puckers up, "i know what can help,"

when you get back inside you're too tired to lug around a man twice your weight so you both end up in the couch, with him snuggling up to you the best he could before ultimately dozing off to sleep.

both your backs ache the next day but you love him regardless.

lee know

minho isn't a lightweight but he chugs alcohol like its water he ends up hammered so quickly it goes from a literal 0 to 100. when drunk, he screams, he shouts and he chases small critters around until he passes out. the most chaotic drunk if you ask me.

when you pick him up he's gained some resemblance of sobriety, but he loves to babble incoherent sentence because not talking would make him feel like he'd combust any minute now.

"do you know that soonie is like felix?"

"how cute are you? i want you to be my cat,"

"what if i chase jisung around, im a predator animal," and when you correct him that he's a rabbit on skzoo basis he'll fight you.

you fondly roll your eyes at him and entertain him like a sugar rushed toddler unable to stop the motor that is his mouth. it's between an existential crisis or kids show questions which throws you in for a loop because there's "what if people didn't have gravity," to "do we really know what happens when we die?"

the moment you get home, you help him with his shoes and he heads straight to bed, unable to further lift his head and simply passes out face first. you have to roll him sideways so that he doesn't suffocate.

in the morning, he has the worst hangover you help nurse.

changbin

thinks he knows his limit but kinda goes 3 drinks over. but it's fine because once he realizes he doesn't feel too well, he'll stop. and he is the most likely to throw up after drinking. the first time it happened, it shocked both of you and he couldn't face you for a week even after assuring him its alright. however this time, he throws up and you still help him through it, now with less shame than when you both first started.

the softest drunk ever. loves caressing your face and just looking at you with unbridled adoration and love as you drive him back home. he's quite the flatterer when intoxicated and would render you a blushing mess the moment you get home.

"do you know you're the prettiest human I've ever laid my eyes on?"

"you know, when you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're concentrating, you look so pretty,"

"but your pretty any time of the day regardless,"

so on and so forth.

when you get home you help him brush his teeth per his request. while you run the brush through his mouth his hands are on your waist, drawing comforting circles around with his eyes closed. "binnie, baby, you have to spit it out," you cajole the nth time because his brain is getting fuzzier by the minute. you manage to put him in pajamas after and despite you normally being the little spoon, its his turn, curled up against you, face nuzzled by your chest as he dozes off peacefully.

hyunjin

he's a silly little guy when drunk. a kiss monster too. he loves pressing kisses all over your face, on your hands, on your lips and you could mildly taste the tequila on his lips. before you could even drive off you're already making out with the man. you have to stop him and he gets all sulky but you promise more kisses when you both get home.

hes inseparable from you when drunk, having both of you waddle back to your front door because he's clinging onto you like a koala bear. he isn't the most vocal when drunk because he already feels like shit after letting the drinks settle but is whiny.

you give him the promised kisses but only pecks and gentle presses lest you wanna end up in disaster with a drunk person. he will conk out when he gets dressed in his pjs and you just cuddle with him as he dozes off. most likely to wake up in the middle of the night or early morning and then goes back to sleep.

maknae line

han

jisung is the lightest weight amongst all 8 of them and he knows it. he can't take more than 3 bottles of beer before tapping out. the moment he feels anything beyond tipsy he's ready to head home and simply relish in your embrace. there's something about being drunk that he doesn't particularly like, and he doesn't like falling asleep intoxicated either.

his introverted nature and social anxiety works double time when intoxicated so you try your best to make it there as quickly as you can. he's a little weaker to pressure when drinking especially when with JYP.

so when you get home a movie and some snacks to fill his tummy are ready and you watch a round of Ponyo and Howl's Moving Castle before he's ready for bed. he gets a bit restless when intoxicated so he politely requests you to be the big spoon for tonight and play with his hair as you help him off to sleep.

you two don't wake up until noon and its alright since by the time you're awake, breakfast is ready for you. it isn't the most complex breakfast but eggs and bacon would suffice. "thanks for picking me up last night,"

"not a problem honey,"

felix

chaotic drunk, only comes second to lee minho. there's something about felix that just entertains you when he's drunk because unlike minho you do less of the picking up the pieces and more of partying in the car with felix. you guys sing your heart out to lady gaga and ariana grande on the ride back home and it turns into a dance party when both of you are getting ready for bed.

he also requests that you put a face mask on him and have some snacks before you head to bed. and you do, you give him those shitty animal print face masks and start dancing to slayyyter while heating up some dino nuggets you find in your fridge.

this is how the 'bro' side of felix comes out, in contrast to his sweet and gentle loving he loves tackling you to bed and tickling you because the alcohol gives him such a rush. both of you pass out on the bed sprawled against each other after the face masks and wake up with your head hanging off the bed, with felix completely on the floor.

seungmin

softie + "no im not drunk" drunk. doesn't wanna bother you so doesn't message you to pick him up, and that usually leads him to denying he's drunk when you say you're picking him up. although when he's extra tired he'll just give in.

he tries his best to not act drunk, not taking your offer to help him in the door and unlocking it, insisting that 'he could still do it,' but fails miserably, the key slipping from his hand and he'll just stand there with a pout like a lost puppy and you simply can't help but fondly laugh at his clumsiness.

once you get in, he starts to brush his teeth and get himself in pajamas before you give him a glass of water. he has to hold your hand while drinking the water which is one of his cutest drunk habits before you guys go to bed. he wordlessly pulls you to his arms and presses you against his chest then its lights out for him. not the most chaotic affair to say the least.

i.n

competitive drunk. and given jeongin's chaotic history, he has definitely drank underage before. he'll make sure to challenge all his hyungs who can drink most and it'll ultimately backfire against him because he is the strongest drinking out of all of them but is also the flimsiest drunk. he cannot walk, for the life of him, and in minutes he's stumbling all over the place.

it is a challenge for you to take him back to the car but with enough chanting of "left, right, left, right," you manage to get in the car with minimal casualties (aside from that trash can he nearly knocked over).

his brain is working just fine, its really his motor skills that are put to the test because he could barely lower the car windows, having to do it yourself. getting him in the house is another challenge because jeongin isn't light by all means, especially his added muscle mass overtime but you power through it and by the time you get him to bed, you're sweating like crazy.

what a big baby, but he's your big baby.

if you wanna send in a prompt or an ask or just say hi feel free to do so!!

[wandashousewife]

Dear Child (Chapter One)

Pairing — Wanda x Reader

Synopsis — Your father was notorious for going on failed tinder dates for years after your mother had left for her own reasons which she never told you. You never actually thought your father had a chance in the vast sea of relationships until you found out that one of his friends knew a European woman a couple years older than you who wanted to marry him. Strange.

Warnings — Failure dad, absent mother

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

You observed with a heavy heart as your father slumped onto the worn-out couch, his tired eyes scanning aimlessly through the channels, seeking solace in the flickering images that danced across the screen. The familiar routine had become a somber ritual ever since your mother's departure, leaving behind a palpable void in the once lively household.

You couldn't fault her for seeking refuge elsewhere, considering the tumultuous nature of your father's existence—a tumult that often mirrored the chaos of a raging inferno. Despite the turmoil, you couldn't help but yearn for the warmth and tenderness your mother once enveloped you in, like a comforting embrace during your tender years. Her absence loomed large, casting shadows of nostalgia and longing over the mundane moments of everyday life.

The room was engulfed in an oppressive silence, punctuated only by the relentless drone of the sports channel emanating from the television's speakers. Amidst the stifling stillness, your father's gravelly voice shattered the tranquility, his words slicing through the heavy air like a dull knife. Each syllable seemed weighed down by the burden of his existence, tinged with the stale odor of cigarette smoke that clung to his every exhale, staining the air with a sickly sweetness that made your stomach churn with disdain.

"Y'know my old buddy Chad?" His inquiry hung in the air, thick with the acrid tang of regret and longing, a bitter reminder of past connections that had soured over time. The mere mention of Chad ignited a simmering rage within you, a visceral reaction to the memory of a man whose arrogance eclipsed even the most brazen displays of confidence. Chad, with his smug demeanor and unwavering self-assurance, epitomized everything you despised in a person—a toxic amalgamation of conceit and entitlement that grated against your very core. The thought of him, swaggering through life with unchecked bravado, filled you with a potent cocktail of resentment and loathing, a sentiment that mirrored your disdain for the pungent stench of your father's breath and the bitter taste it left lingering on your tongue.

“Sadly.” You mumbled under your breath, putting down your phone.

“Well, he finally found me a wife!” Your father's booming voice reverberated through the house, brimming with an infectious excitement that seemed to electrify the very air around him. Wait, what? Chad found him a what?!

“You’re joking.”

"No! He said it’s absolutely real, plus it’s one of those European girls," your father declared with a sly wink, his tone laden with a hint of lasciviousness that left a bitter taste in your mouth. The subtle leer in his eye betrayed a lingering penchant for lewdness, a facet of his personality that never failed to incite your contempt and disdain.

"And he said that she should be here today," he stated proudly, his chest puffing out with a sense of accomplishment. The suddenness of the revelation caught you off guard, prompting a surge of incredulity to bubble within you.

"So you just bought a wife?" you queried, your voice laced with skepticism and a tinge of disapproval, unable to fathom the notion of acquiring companionship through such transactional means.

"Not exactly, apparently he has a buddy from his traveling days who was offering his daughter to someone rich. Great sob story though," your father explained, his tone tinged with a hint of cynicism as he recounted the dubious origins of this supposed arrangement. The mention of a wealthy stranger peddling his daughter as a commodity stirred a sense of unease within you, prompting a cascade of questions about the morality and ethics surrounding such transactions.

The sudden ring of the doorbell shattered the tense atmosphere, signaling the arrival of the anticipated guest. With an almost childlike eagerness, your father sprang from his seat, his footsteps echoing across the floorboards as he hurried to greet the visitor. As the door swung open, you caught your first glimpse of her—a striking figure adorned in luxurious attire, her long, brown locks cascading effortlessly down her shoulders. Despite her undeniable beauty, an air of unease settled over you as you realized that this poised woman standing before you was the embodiment of the arranged alliance your father had so eagerly embraced. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you resigned yourself to the inevitable complications that lay ahead.

“Salutări, numele meu este Wanda. Esti sotul meu?” The woman greeted, with your father just eagerly nodding along, most likely not even understanding her.

"I have no idea what you just said, but you are gorgeous," he declared boldly, his words dripping with unchecked admiration and a brazen disregard for propriety—a trait of your father's that never failed to incite a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation within you. The unabashed forwardness of his compliment served as a stark reminder of the stark contrast between his cavalier approach to social interactions and your own more reserved demeanor.

"Oh, sorry. I said that my name is Wanda, and are you my husband?" she translated, her voice carrying a gentle warmth as she offered a soft smile in response. Your father's eager nod and reciprocated smile seemed to mask an underlying sense of satisfaction, one that hinted at ulterior motives lurking beneath the surface—an unsettling realization that sent a shiver down your spine as you observed the exchange unfold before you.

"Why yes I am, and this is my dear precious daughter, Y/N," he proclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of forced enthusiasm as he introduced you to the stranger standing before you. The subtle nudge from your father prompted a strained smile to tug at the corners of your lips, though beneath the facade of pleasantries, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions churned within you—a tumultuous blend of resentment, apprehension, and reluctant compliance.

Wanda's lingering gaze bore into you with a curious intensity, her eyes probing beneath the surface to unravel the enigma that lay hidden within. The faint hint of intrigue reflected in her expression stirred a flutter of uncertainty within you, prompting a momentary self-reflection as you pondered the possibility of harboring hidden depths that had captured her interest. The notion of being perceived as intriguing by this stranger ignited a spark of curiosity, compelling you to reassess your own sense of identity and the mysteries that lay shrouded within your being.

“She does look like a precious little girl.” Wanda smiled, laughing.

The sudden rush of flustered unease enveloped you like a suffocating cloak, its oppressive weight pressing down upon your senses with a stifling intensity that left you reeling in discomfort. Unlike the whimsical tales of fanfiction where sparkles danced in the eyes of enigmatic strangers revealing their true identities as vampires, the reality of the situation was anything but romantic or fantastical. The notion of Wanda possibly being a vampire, while momentarily amusing, quickly faded into the background as the sheer embarrassment of the situation washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning out any fanciful musings with a stark reminder of your own vulnerability and discomfort.

Despite your father's insistence on giving Wanda a tour of the house, her gaze continued to stray in your direction, each glance feeling like a subtle yet probing exploration of your very essence. The intensity of her scrutiny seemed to linger on you like a weight, igniting a flicker of discomfort that danced along the edges of your consciousness.

The notion of her seemingly feeding off you with her eyes, while possessing an undeniable allure in a different context, now felt uncomfortably inappropriate given the newly formed familial dynamic. The juxtaposition of attraction and familial boundaries blurred into a disconcerting haze, leaving you grappling with a tumult of conflicting emotions and unsettling thoughts.

Despite your repeated protests and fervent attempts to dissuade your father from venturing into your private sanctuary, his relentless insistence persisted, leading the procession towards the one place you had hoped to shield from prying eyes.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you watched helplessly as he swung open the door to your bedroom, exposing the inner sanctum of your personal space to Wanda's curious gaze. The air hung heavy with a palpable sense of intrusion, as the boundaries of privacy blurred and the carefully curated refuge you had crafted for yourself lay vulnerable to the scrutiny of outsiders.

Wanda's gaze locked onto yours once more, her eyes alight with a mischievous glint that seemed to pierce through the veil of your embarrassment with unnerving precision. The knowing smirk that played upon her lips betrayed an acute awareness of your discomfort, a silent acknowledgment of the boundaries you had sought to uphold and the vulnerability you now found yourself exposed to.

As the evening unfolded, Wanda seamlessly integrated herself into the household, her presence casting a newfound sense of warmth and vitality over the once somber atmosphere. The tantalizing aroma of her culinary creations wafted through the air, filling the space with the enticing promise of a delectable feast. With each savory bite of the Romanian delicacy she had prepared, the rich flavors danced upon your palate, leaving a lingering impression of culinary excellence that spoke volumes of her culinary prowess.

Yet, amidst the conviviality of the dinner table, Wanda's unwavering gaze remained fixated upon you, a constant presence that seemed to defy explanation. The intensity of her scrutiny bore into you like a relentless tide, leaving you unsettled and acutely aware of the unspoken tension that lingered between you. With each passing moment, the weight of her gaze pressed down upon you, an unspoken question lingering in the air, begging to be addressed yet remaining shrouded in enigmatic silence.

[doumadono]

Morning, how are you? Are you taking requests for Sinful Sunday? If so, could you please write a drabble about Hawks and thigh high stockings with a female reader?

A/N: hiya, dear nonnie, I appreciate your inquiry. I'm actually doing quite well these days, and I genuinely hope that you're also in good spirits!

SINFUL SUNDAY

You were adorned in a seductive little black mini-cocktail dress, designed to accentuate every curve of your body. The fabric clung to your form so snugly that your pert nipples were daringly evident, all without the concealment of any undergarments. The dress tantalizingly flirted with the edge of immodesty, barely reaching your mid-thigh. With every subtle movement, the black thigh-high stockings you wore became a teasing secret, visible if you happened to bend over just right.

Hawks couldn't help but revel in his decision to visit the bar that fateful night. His sole desire that night was to revel in the pleasure of the moment, and it seemed fate had introduced him to someone who shared that very same longing.

"I want you to murder my pussy," as you spoke, your words were laced with the remnants of tipsiness after you stepped into his apartment. You cast your eyes around Number Two's impeccably decorated apartment, a testament to his refined taste and sophistication. The ambiance exuded an air of elegance that matched the allure of your attire, creating an atmosphere charged with desire and intrigue.

Hawks replied back, "You're a little tease. I love it." His hand fleetingly caressed one of your thighs, his fingertips sensually gliding over the smooth, nylon texture of your stockings. "Incredibly sexy and delightfully soft," he murmured appreciatively.

Soon, your hands were exploring each other's lustful bodies as you kissed passionatelly.

As your lips finally parted, you gazed deeply into Takami's eyes, your desire evident. The words spilled from your mouth, "I want you to destroy my cunt." Your hand delved beneath his pants, wrapping around his considerable hardness, your mind racing as you measured the sheer length and girth of his cock.

Hawks responded with a wicked grin, spinning you around and guiding you towards the inviting bed. He tore off his shirt with a fierce eagerness, unzipped his pants, and discarded them along with his boxers. You obediently assumed your position, hands resting on the bed, your body poised for him. Glancing back with a sultry look, you beheld Keigo, now fully disrobed, his substantial manhood aimed squarely at you. "Unbelievable," you breathed in awe, your dress lifting to reveal the curve of your derrière. A delicate thong barely concealed your pussy, and with a swift, hungry motion, Keigo set it aside, exposing your moist, yearning folds to his ravenous gaze.

Hawks leaned in and took a long lick of your pussy from behind, which was already wet. "Wow, I love how these stockings cling so snugly to your soft, inviting thighs. It's making me absolutely crazy for ya, just looking at it. Not to mention your juicy ass, fuck. You're so goddamn sexy, princess."

You barked back, "Hey, save that shit for later. Shove that big motherfucking cock inside me now."

Takami's mischievous grin widened as he firmly grasped himself at the base of his cock. With precision, he aimed the tip at the entrance to your warmth and eased the head inside. Both of you released synchronized sighs, a harmonious chorus of pleasure filling the room. Keigo persisted, gently pushing deeper, gradually overcoming the subtle resistance offered by your velvety, tight embrace.

Keigo withdrew his member, leaving just the tip nestled between your quivering, heated folds. His strong hands found their place on your hips, fingers gripping firmly. As he lowered his gaze, a mesmerizing sight met him - his shaft adorned with the glistening traces of your arousal. With determination, he plunged back in, every inch of him sliding smoothly into the depths of your eager, snug intimacy.

The intense sensation that surged through you was almost overwhelming. It forced you to stifle a gasp, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you pressed your face into the soft, inviting embrace of the bedsheets.

When Hawks was fully immersed within your dripping core again, your head lifted, and a breathless plea escaped your lips. "Oh, yes… God, yes. Give me every inch of your fucking cock, Number Two Hero. Unleash your fervor, and claim me completely! do it!"

Keigo happily obliged as he wrapped his hands around your waist and began to slowly slam his cock in and out of you.

You started to moan and scream, your fingers tightly clutching the bedsheets into a ball around your fists. Initially, your cries of passion were soft and restrained, but as Hawks increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts, your subdued expressions of pleasure quickly escalated into an uproarious chorus of ecstasy.

Hawks thrust forcefully into you, eliciting unrestrained cries of pleasure from your lips. "Oh, goodness… Oh, goodness… YESSS!" Your fervent exclamations grew more intense with each electrifying moment. Finally, overwhelmed by the overwhelming sensations, you could no longer contain yourself. Your body convulsed, and you pushed forward, causing Hawks' eager cock to escape from your dripping core.

You breathed heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the intense rhythm of sex left you gasping for air. "Oh, goodness," you moaned, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of the experience, "It's incredible… almost too much… my body is aflame, fuck you, Hawks!"

Hawks gazed down at his throbbing, rigid member. It glistened with a luscious, creamy substance, with copious amounts of white essence cascading down his shaft and pooling at the base of his dick. The sight stirred an insatiable desire within him, compelling him to complete the passionate act. "Oh, you naughty shit." He couldn't contain his lust any longer and demanded, "What do you think you're doing?" With a primal urgency, he positioned himself on his knees at the edge of the bed behind you. Swiftly, he guided his engorged cock toward your eagerly awaiting, dripping core, plunging it deeply and fully in you, once again.

Once again, an unrestrained cry of pleasure escaped your lips as you were overwhelmed by the sheer size and girth that ignited every nerve in your body. Hawks, driven by unquenchable desire, didn't stop at merely holding your waist - instead, he entwined his arms with yours, securing them behind your back as if you were his willing captive. The force of his thrusts sent your body soaring, melding it with his. His hard member remained deeply embedded within you, maintaining a relentless, fervent rhythm of upward motions. This time, there was no escape, as Keigo's potent power held you firmly in its grasp, leaving no room for resistance.

"Ah…aaahhhh! N-no, it's too much. I'm going to fucking cum…I'm going to cum all over your fucking cock… Aaaahhh! Mmmmhmmm! I'm cumming. I'm cumming!!!"

The climax washed over you with such intensity that as Hawks gently released his grasp, your body responded involuntarily, convulsing in the aftershocks of pleasure. Your cries of ecstasy were muted by the sheets as you buried your face once more, the euphoric sensations lingering in the depths of your being. "Oh, my god!"

Hawks' movements grew increasingly erratic, his thrusts losing their precision as he approached the peak too. He too reached the climax, breathlessly panting as waves of unbearable pleasure washed over him, causing his wings to puff out behind him in a display of uncontrollable ecstasy. He slowly withdrew his dick; a pearl of his cum dripped down on the sheets between your legs, and he grunted at the sight.

Keigo allowed you to descend from the euphoric peak, savoring his skill in bringing you to such passionate release. He gazed down at his glistening member, now even more coated in your juicy essence than before. "That was just the first round. Time for round two," he declared, his desire and determination unmistakable.

[peachesofteal]

hii!! idk if you’ve already talked about this but how did simon and soap meet darling?

p.s. dead disco has me in such a chokehold i reread it literally all the time💞

Hi! I'm so glad you like Dead Disco, I have loved writing it too and am really enjoying exploring their relationship. I love an opportunity to talk about my pairings and explore them a bit so I wrote something as an answer to your Q. Thank you so much!

How did the guys meeting darling? Ghost x Soap x female reader 1.2k words - no warnings/tags - takes place before Dead Disco This was not edited, just a brain to typing ramble. Sorry for any mistakes.

It was at a bar. Not the dive kind, that you were particularly fond of now, but an upscale, too fancy for you type place. The kind where they serve cocktails in thin rimmed glassware with crystal clear ice cubes and two ounce pours of whiskey that cost triple digits. 

You were there for a party, a bridal shower, of all things. Zipped into an uncomfortable dress, feet already crying from the too tall heels that you chose. The champagne soured your stomach, the fake smile you had plastered to your face slipping more and more as the minutes ticked on, the pressure of too many eyes, too many people, too many questions finally starting to wear you down. The bride-to-be was beautiful, and you were miserable. 

Not because she was getting married, of course. You were thrilled for her, proud of her for actually pulling the trigger on happily ever after even if it was something you’re not sure you believed in. She was happy and that’s all that matters. You’re a supportive friend, after all. But, you were tired, the social aspect of a gathering like that quickly overwhelming you, forcing you to slink to a table in the back where you could hide your bare feet under the pristine tablecloth and slump over in your chair, fixing your eyes on your phone so you could escape, if only for a moment. 

Your reprieve didn’t last long before a gaggle of aunts and well-meaning middle-aged women swarmed you, endless questions spouting from their mouths, inquiries about how you were, how your job was, if you were dating anyone being passed around between them like you were some science fair exhibit to be analyzed and dissected. 

You slipped away when they were distracted, fleeing the table out the side door of the banquet room and down the back stairs to where the brick patio of the street level bar was, which was open for regular business and customers, seeing as it was a Saturday afternoon. 

You met Johnny first, that day. You had turned the corner of the stairwell and nearly stumbled into him, your body skidding to a stop when you felt the cold brick on your bare feet and realized you had left your god damn shoes upstairs. He had been leaning against the wall with an almost empty beer in his hand, mohawk slightly grown out, t shirt accentuating his arms, soft shadow of stubble lining his jaw. You clocked him right away because he was beautiful, gorgeously handsome in the way that made you want to sidle right up next to him and take a closer look. There was something in his eyes, when he registered your presence at the bottom of the steps, something… hot, a heat that curved around your neck and across your throat, down to the very center of your stomach, the feeling of it awaking something desirous, something needy inside you. When he gave you a sweet smile, your knees felt light, and then he gestured to you, a sweeping hand motion that felt like an invitation to come over. 

So, you did. 

His name was Johnny. He was brilliantly charming and utterly funny, while also being extremely intelligent and cordial. He was easy to talk to, and the two of you struck up a conversation without hinderance, the flow of the back and forth actually enjoyable and not a drag like most interactions you had with men lately. He was interesting, and sweet, and sexy and you were trying really hard not to drool as he asked you questions about yourself, what you did, where you were from, who you were. You were so engrossed in him that you didn’t even see the other man, the one in the mask that had arrived to stand opposite him, until he was practically casting a shadow over you. 

He was huge. The width of his body, his neck, even his palms had your eyes subtly widening and your gaze tracing him from head to toe out in wonder, and confusion. Even though he was wearing a black cloth mask over his nose and mouth, you could make out his bone structure, the angles of his face and cheeks telling you that he certainly was beautiful underneath it, and he had a crop of sandy brown-blonde hair that contrasted his eyes, their copper brown hue refracting in the light and nearly startling you with how stunning they were. He pinned you with them, your body frozen where it stood like you were an animal, unable to flee, or speak, or formulate a sentence. You just stood there, blinking at him like you had suddenly gone dumb. Throat dry. Lips parted. 

And then, he handed Johnny one of the beers he was holding. Their fingers grazed, and Johnny’s thumb lifted, stroking along the back of masked man’s hand, an affectionate, soothing gesture that you couldn’t look away from. Something so small, so simple, communicated a million words between them within a second. 

There was something about them, something different that you couldn’t put your finger on that drew you in, pulling you closer and closer into their orbit, until the man in the mask looked down and said:

“Yer not wearin’ any shoes.” The deep, rough timbre of his voice scratched something in the back of your mind, and you felt butterflies thrash in your belly. Your body grew warm, embarrassment snaking up your spine and you took a step backwards, a hand nervously rising to find a piece of your hair to fidget with while you tried to manage a smile and explain. 

“I uh, left them upstairs. At the shower. I was at a bridal shower.” Masked man cocks his head like he’s considering your words. 

“Hurt your feet?” You nodded immediately, a tinge of relief cooling the heat of your embarrassment, and Johnny gave you a sympathetic smile before he turned to man in the mask and gave your name, the Scottish accent shifting the pronunciation so that it sounded all that more attractive. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just regarded you silently, like he was processing you, x-raying you, seeing you inside and out, trying to decide what to say next, before his voice softened and he said, “I’m Ghost.” Johnny tsked aloud and Ghost shifted, his shoulders tensing and relaxing, eyes narrowing above the mask before his chest deflated with a sigh. “Johnny.” He warned, to which Johnny rolled his eyes, and slung his arm around your shoulder affectionately. 

“What do you say you get your shoes, and we go find another bar?” You nodded your agreement immediately, not caring if these two were going to throw you over their shoulders and hide you away forever, or not. You already knew, you’d be going wherever they went. “Atta girl.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you high tailed it up the stairs, pausing to look back for just a second to see him placing his hand on Ghost’s ribs, the gesture reciprocated by Ghost stepping closer and lowering his forehead to Johnny’s, an intimate glimpse that had your heart rattling in your chest. 

You were a goner. 

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, just a collection of headcanons about tsukasa having a dick big enough to be considered a weapon of mass destruction and not even knowing it, suggested virgin!tsukasa ( or at the very least inexperienced ), he also is a little simp. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

bigdick!Tsukasa that can’t help but already be hard while you kiss on his neck. he’s waited for this, for you, for so long that he can hardly control the moans that slip from his open mouth, getting louder with each, sloppy kiss. so loud that, by the time you’re sucking on his collarbone, you’ve had to clamp a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t wake your roommate in the other room.

bigdick!Tsukasa that you can feel against your thigh, jabbing through his jeans. butterflies erupt in your tummy when you feel just how… big the lump is, and you nibble on his chest, teasing his sensitive nipple, kicking one leg over to straddle it. “You’re so hard…” you purr, and watch his countenance flush a pinkish hue when you plop down, rubbing your panties over the tent. you soak through the cotton and, subsequently his denim breeches, in moments, because you ride the shape of his clothed cock, teasing him by stilling against the throbbing head, feeling his hips rock upwards, wishing he could burst through the fabric and fuck you.

bigdick!Tsukasa that turns crimson in his cheeks when you finally strip him, and you stare, in complete shock, at the massive cock demanding your attention. you hadn’t expected him to be so mighty, too thick for you to wrap your hand around comfortably. Tsukasa stares at your face, trying to read the bemusement, but too embarrassed so he starts to stutter. “I— Is it okay?? It’s okay, right?? You still want to touch it?”

to which you glance up at him, and nod, your eyes still big and unable to help drifting back down to the swollen, pink tip. “Tsukasa…” you murmur, leaning closer to experiment with parting your lips and sucking on the very edge of the tip. he mewls and grips the sheets underneath him, already panting, “you’re big…”

bigdick!Tsukasa that you can’t take all in your mouth. you try, sucking on the fat head until your eyes want to roll back in your head. you push down, feeding yourself only a couple more inches before he hits your limit, tip punching your gag reflex at the back of your throat and you gurgle, and ease off. so you have to dribble spit over the neglected inches while your lips stretch wide over his head, and use both hands to jerk him off. he doesn’t seem to mind either way, because your tongue flicks at the tender underside of his tip and he whimpers your name and squirms under you. “A—ahh— that… that feels—“ he’s only ever been acquainted with his own hands, so to feel your softer ones, pumping in fervent tandem with your desperate suckling, has left him speechless.

bigdick!Tsukasa that cums in your mouth without warning because he’s just so overwhelmed by how good your lips feel wrapped around him, and then apologizes profusely when you look up at him, eyes wide, with his release leaking out of both corners of your swollen lips, frosting his twitching cock. “I’m so sorry, I swear that wasn’t on purpose!”

bigdick!Tsukasa that’s still hard and aching, even when you’re drooling spit and cum, trying to catch your breath as you sit back on your calves, and expect him to be done, his cock resting against his abdomen and smearing him with the same cocktail. “It’s not over… right?” he tentatively poses the inquiry, wrapping a hand around himself to pump some of the tension away. you can tell it doesn’t work, because even as he stares at you and bites his lip, your name seeps through his teeth in a needy moan. “I want… you… please…”

bigdick!Tsukasa who’s embarrassed when the only condom you have on hand doesn’t even come close to fitting him. you can tell it’s uncomfortable by the way he grunts and grits his teeth. “Too tight?” you ask, incredulous. he tries to lie.

“I’m okay, I can… handle it!”

but you can tell he can’t. there’s a prominent vein bulging against his neck, telling you he’s straining. in pain. and you are quick to peel it off of him and toss it in the trash. then, you think about it.

bigdick!Tsukasa that wants it so bad that he can’t lay still, palming himself, humping the air, but he can’t fix his mouth into trying to convince you to take him raw. “N—next time,” he whispers, finally, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows, “next time I’ll be more prepare—“

“I won’t wait for a next time,” you cut him off, pouncing on him. your lips collide with his, and you grip the hair at the nape of his neck to urge him to roll over with you, which he does ( clumsily ), and presses his weight on you. “I want you now, Tsukasa. Please fuck me.” his golden eyes are big, blown out with dark pupils, and his cheeks are as hot as an oven when he hears you beg for it, scrambling to pull your panties down your legs and scoot into position.

bigdick!Tsukasa that moans out loud when he pushes the tip in, dropping his head back in awe at how tight you are. “O— oh, my god—“ breathless, you plant both of your palms against his chest. he stops, looking down at you, concerned he’s hurt you already. but you’re mewling, pushing your head back into the pillow and biting your lip, squirming, your walls fluttering madly, and he’s barely made it inside. “S—so big,” you moan, sinking your nails into his chest. he melts against your scrapes, whining in pure ecstasy, “stay right there… just..” arching your back off the bed, you roll your hips forward, allowing the tip of his cock to rub against your elastic interior, letting him feel you with slow oscillations.

“You’re… really tight—“ he pants, running his hands down to hold on your hips, feel them dance under his palms. it feels good, really good, and he moans, chest heaving. “That’s enough…! Don’t try to take it all, I can… I’m going to cum just… just like this!”

spurred by his pathetic, pleasured sounds, you balance with your tip toes against the mattress, rocking your hips harder and faster, fucking yourself with the thick head of his dick alone, both of your hands falling behind your head to dig your nails into the pillow. “Tsu—kasa—“ you whimper, “touch me… rub my clit, baby… I wanna cum, too!”

you don’t have to say it twice. his fingers run laps around your netherlips, searching for your nub. it’s hard for him to focus because you’re overloaded him with euphoria, but when he bumps the throbbing nerve bundle and you clench around him, gasping, his eyes widen. he zeroes in on it, rubbing in needy circles, until your eyelids are too heavy to keep parted.

“F—fuck, yes! Like that! Feels good!!”

your walls squeeze him until he’s trembling, and with one, uncontrollable buck of his hips, he slips you another inch and you cry out, your canal opening up to accommodate the size, before remembering your roommate and clamping a hand over your own mouth, your eyes rolling back.

bigdick!Tsukasa that tries to outlast you because he wants to see you cum so badly, but you’re so good to his body that he can’t; and he pulls out just in time to splatter his release all over your navel. blushing madly, with his finally softening cock twitching as it drapes over your belly, smearing his cum around on your skin, he continues to tease your clit.

“You don’t have to,” you mumble, breathless, as you fall back against the bed, looking up at him. you can tell he’s embarrassed, because he avoids your gaze. “I had fun, too.”

“It’s your turn,” he whispers, determined, “I need to see you cum.”

biting down harshly on your lip, you shift on your back, inching up on the pillow, “You want me to cum, baby? Really want it?” you ask, reaching up to grab his hair in both fists. he moans, and nods desperately, before you shove his head between your thighs. he welcomes it with a happy moan, sealing his mouth around your core, slurping on your juices already, and your head drops back. “Eat my pussy, then, Tenma,” you tease, pulling on his hair like reins to teach him the rhythm you like, before you expel a breathy moan, “F—fuck, and don’t come up for air until you make me cum on that pretty face of yours!”

bigdick!Tsukasa that can’t help but get rock hard again whilst he eats your pussy, grinding himself into the sheets until he cums to the sound of you begging him not to stop.

[cibeeorsomeshit]

Stolitz Week 2024

A/N: Continuation from the day one prompt, but probably can be read as a standalone as well.

Day Two: Hurt/Comfort; Chocolate/Candy (ao3)

Why are you anxious? Maybe because you're drinking shitty coffee and smoking cigarettes with your sort-of crush at three a.m.

Blitzø had never been able to tolerate sweets. Fizz would often find pockets of time between practices and performances to visit the cotton candy machine and joke with whoever was in charge of it, hoping they would give him a sweet cloud. Barbie would pick up any candies dropped around the circus ground by visitors and hid them in her dress. Mom only ate sweet pastries for breakfast, and Blitzø remembered how she always ended her night with a hot cup of cinnamon and brown sugar milk, the heat and smell of it so vivid even now Blitzø reacted to the spice like someone cutting onions.

Give him hard liquor. Bitter coffee with only ice cubes to soften it. Once at a club a guy bought him a fruity cocktail thinking that would lead to his cock getting inside of Blitzø. Blitzø drank it, because booze was booze, but he definitely didn’t let the guy anywhere near his hole.

And yet here he was, three a.m., with Stolas at an all night joint that only served coffee and some sort of goop that could either be scramble eggs or a really unfortunate looking donut. Blitzø had texted him in a moment of feverish vulnerability and immediately wanted to delete the message, but Stolas, as usual, read his text right away.

The little speech bubble was so hypnotizing that Blitzø nearly went cross-eyed at how hard he was staring at it. He was expecting a polite refusal, or maybe some sort of confused inquiry of why he would join Blitzø when the last time they saw each other Blitzø broke his end of the deal by sleeping in Stolas’ bed without dicking him down first.

But Stolas only asked where to meet Blitzø. Blitzø chose a place out in the edge of Imp City where not even the homeless went because even they weren’t this sad with their lives. He had thought that would change Stolas’ mind, but again, Stolas simply replied he would be there in ten.

And there he was, not even ten minutes later, in all his royal glory (wearing a simple sweater and pants yet still somehow looked more put-together than Blitzø in his best suit ever was). The server working behind the counter went from dozing to full-alert real quick, stammering something that might be construed (a word he learned from Moxxie) as a formal greeting. Stolas nodded absentmindedly at him, his eyes already on Blitzø, feathers fluffing out in pleasure as he walked over and sat down.

Blitzø had to force a giant gulp of scalding coffee down his throat to mask — whatever was going on on his face.

“I thought you hated hot coffee,” Stolas asked. He was moving around in the seat to find a position that could fit his long limbs without jostling Blitzø under the table. Blitzø extended his leg and gently bumped his boot into Stolas. Stolas smiled, and wordlessly let his legs stretch comfortably under the table, tangling with Blitzø’s swinging legs.

“They didn’t have —” before Blitzø could finish his sentence, the server hastily presented a glass of ice cubes to him. Blitzø gave him a dirty look but didn’t say anything. He bet the guy would cook up something that wasn’t even in their kitchen if Stolas wanted.

Stolas just asked for coffee and whatever they were serving that night. When the food came Stolas poked at it gingerly with a straw and left it be.

Blitzø waited for the questions. When should they make up for the last full moon? Did Blitzø bring the book with him today, since last time Blitzø was so out of it he forgot? Did he not know how super-duper-fucking-trouper important that book was for his duties? Why did Blitzø leave before Stolas woke up when he hadn’t done that in so long?

The self-induced stress was enough to make Blitzø dig out his crumbled pack of cigarettes. Stolas wasn’t even talking, he was just humming some tune to himself, not chattering away for once. Maybe it was the night. Maybe it was the unusual invitation. Maybe Stolas just knew him better than Blitzø thought and could tell he wasn’t in the mood for talking.

Blitzø lit a cigarette and took a deep, long drag. He could feel Stolas looking at him, heavy and heady and with the faint waft burning parchment papers. He thought everyone felt it wherever Stolas turned his gaze onto them, but Moxxie called him crazy. Millie just smiled with all her teeth, and Loona said they both smelled gross when they looked at each other.

Stolas’ coffee hadn’t arrived yet, probably because the guy was making it with french press or some fancy shit instead of pouring days-old coffee from their rusty pot, so Blitzø offered his own coffee, which Stolas refused, and a cigarette, which Stolas gladly accepted. The table didn’t have an ashtray so they put it out on the scramble-egg-donut until it was a spiky scramble-egg-donut. All the while they didn’t say a word. Stolas looked completely at ease and Blitzø couldn’t help his tail that wrapped around Stolas’ legs under the table.

Finally Stolas’ coffee arrived. It smelled like actual coffee and not the brown water in Blitzø’s mug, though Stolas ruined it immediately by pouring five packs of sugar in it and stirring it daintily with a finger.

“How do you even drink that?” Those were the first words uttered in nearly twenty minutes, and his voice was rough from the smoking. Stolas took a sip, hooting softly and happily.

“I like it sweet,” Stolas said simply. “I would order a mocha but I doubt they have it.” And he laughed at Blitzø’s expression, pushing his mug toward Blitzø. “Have a try.”

“Fuck no.”

“Come on!”

“I rather drink piss.”

Stolas huffed and took his mug back. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Ha!” Blitzø croaked. “You’re calling me dramatic?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t, did I?”

Blitzø lit another cigarette. The fluorescent strip lights over them flickered every now and then, crackling like dying insects. The only other sounds were the exhale of smoke between them. The server had disappeared at some point. The streets outside were dark and silent, the twisting and tittering buildings so dense that the shine of the red sky was unable to peek through.

“Do you want the book back?” Blitzø finally asked, accompanied by a large puff of smoke.

Stolas blinked at him with all four eyes. “What makes you think so?”

“Because we didn’t — last time. I didn’t —” Blitzø retracted his tail and wrapped it around himself instead. “I broke the deal.”

“Oh, darling.” Stolas leaned forward and took away his cigarette, stubbing it out with a pinch. “Do you think I was upset? Do you think I’m upset?”

“I mean.” Blitzø couldn’t understand Stolas’ reaction. “Yes?”

“Seeing you on the full moon hasn’t been about the book in a long time.” Stolas traced the white scars on Blitzø’s hand, and clarified as an afterthought, “For me.”

“So you don’t want to continue this squid pro quote shit anymore?”

Stolas leaned his cheek in his palm and smiled adoringly at Blitzø. “I’m assuming you mean quid pro quo?”

“Whatever. That.”

“Hm, I think I would rather we switch to more of an omnia tibi situation.”

“I don’t know what the fuck that means.”

“It means I will give you everything you want.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Any normal being would have looked like shit under fluorescent lights. Blitzø was pretty sure his dark circles were on full blast in this light, but Stolas’ heart-shaped face glowed. “Blitzø,” Stolas started to say. The hand he was leaning on squished his face a bit, endearing in a mystifying way. “Why do you think I’m here right now? It certainly isn’t for the coffee.”

That was a confrontation he was avoiding since he texted Stolas earlier.

“I have a sneaking feeling you think I wouldn’t choose to be with you just to be with you.” Stolas finished his coffee. “You can have the book whenever you need with no strings attached, no something for something, because I like you.”

Blitzø’s heart was doing some freaky twitching he wasn’t used to. “You like me.”

Stolas almost seemed offended by Blitzø’s deadpan response. “Well, it’s not very hard to like you, is it? I like your company. I like your cute face. I like your humor. I like your taste in clothing — there’s just a lot to like! And whatever part of you that you seemed to view as intolerable matters very little to me compared to how much I like you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Blitzø stood up in his seat. “You have crap taste. You drink coffee with sugar.”

“I’ve been told I’m very smart.” Stolas leaned back in his seat. “And if you give it a try, you might like it as well.”

“And if I don’t?” Blitzø rested a knee on the table.

“Then I will simply have to accept that.” Stolas smiled like he was falling. And Blitzø was falling too. Forward. Downward. But mostly forward.

Stolas’ long limbs wrapped around Blitzø like it went on forever. Blitzø’s tail wrapped around them and they were so close. In this shitty all-nighter joint with squeaky chairs and bad coffee that should make anyone want to kill themselves for choosing to spend their night here, but Stolas was here and he caught Blitzø in his arms. Blitzø was here and he decided to fall forward.

It was pretty fucking scary. It was also pretty fucking sweet.

(Day One) ← →(Day Three)

[takeyourcyanide]

That Which Destroys You, You Adore

AO3

Content Warning(s): Blood, Gore, Violence, (Technically Unethical) Human Experimentation, Mentions of Cannibalism, Vomiting

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Franken Stein, Spirit Albarn

Tags: Blood & Gore, Blood & Violence, Blood & Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Aftermath of Violence, Science Experiments, Human Experimentation, Mentions of Cannibalism, Sharing a Bed, Hurt/Comfort, Addiction, Sickfic, Nausea, Vomiting

Word Count: 3 733

Summary: Stein experiments on Spirit whilst he’s asleep, which leads to a very nauseous and ill Spirit.

Note(s): Here’s something in between chapters. I’m working on two age regression fics, too. People, at least on ao3, seem to be enjoying those just as I am, so fun.

Disintegration was far from easy to bear witness to; similarly to taking a lawn chair out to helplessly watch as every last bit of the supposedly stable world you knew is blown to smithereens, only rubble, ashes, and fire remaining - burning every last bit of whatever green is still visible into a cloudy, black nothingness, for that is all you are able to do.

But refuge could be found simultaneously within the madness, within the harrowing, yet captivating static.

It could be found within the maddeningly pleasurable sadism you tried your best to force into latency, within the pleasant curiosity - both the sadism and scientific inquiry intermingling and joining as one, bringing about a thrill with them, becoming a delectable cocktail of pure, and unbridled, fervent pleasure like no other.

Exacting what they consider violence on others was exhilarating; though for him it was not about the fact that it was barbaric or homicidal. He was merely interested in anatomy, in souls, in what lies beneath the surface. An inability to view others as thinking and feeling agents certainly helped, along with the enjoyment he found in the fear and utter trepidation in people’s eyes - for it was simply so incredibly fascinating to observe. It is as though they revert back into small children, pleading for mercy, and pleading for their parents; predator and prey, the cycle of life.

And he’d always experience the seething desire to find out how and why.

::::———::::———::::———::::———::::

The clock ticked on endlessly, the noise reverberating throughout the unnerving and breathing walls, reading ‘02:46.’ And it had been well over a week since Stein had last dissected an animal.

He trudged from out of the whispering shadows of his bedroom, through the threatening and chilling air of the corridor, utensils in hand, clinking gently together.

His frigid hand interacted with the frigid knob of Spirit’s door, an entranced and thrilled grin contorting his chapped lips, as he removed, or ,rather, opened the border between him and his favorite test subject.

Stein had often described people and their fleshy outermost layers as being something like wrapping paper, their insides and what lies at the bottom of the iceberg to be the gift within the gift box. Though you may keep the pretty wrapping paper until it’s no longer useful to you and throw it away, ultimately, that was much more of an adult thing to do. Even if he had himself utilized others to his advantage. And it was in moments like these where Franken felt the most immature, only after his own hedonistic desires, little care for anything else. He never once had any real interest in the wrapping paper covering the box. He may admire its beauty, and even find it to be rather fascinating, but at the end of the day, he’d always mercilessly rip it to shreds to get to the goodies on the inside; what he truly wanted.

And Spirit’s innards, the very recesses of his soul were what intrigued him the most. He wanted to know what the soul of such an interesting individual was precisely made of, what all his body was made of - even despite his extensive knowledge of the average human body. But how different was a weapon’s body from that of a regular human’s?

Truly, viewing photos and diagrams for the sake of studying and getting up close and personal with fluid-covered and eye-catching organs were two entirely separate things.

Stein made short and hushed steps closer towards the weapon, of whom had the idiotic tendency to sleep with his shirt off, which was only idiotic because he lived with a certain opportunistic meister.

As more and more of the redhead came into view, he could see how disheveled and sprawled out both his long hair was, and his body happened to be, the comforter only covering his thighs and a small portion of his abdomen, on which was already a few leisurely healing scars scattered about; products of the meister’s previous endeavors.

His grin grew into a disturbingly wide and manic smile as he beamed at the sight before him, his weapon-partner’s pale skin absolutely littered in markings. The sight was almost too much to bear…… Surely blood would be even more stunning on the male subject’s complexion.

He placed his utensils neatly upon the steel medical tray had he brought along with him, which he put on the bedside table, of which was only occupied by a lamp and a compact clock. He ensured that they each made little noise, taking precautions, despite his scythe being quite the deep sleeper.

As the final scalpel had been lied down onto the reflective and shining surface, Albarn’s fingers twitched, his head turning to the side, his lips pursing as a soft groan escaped him.

‘Perhaps he is having a distressing dream,’ Stein pondered to himself, tilting his own head curiously to the side like a quizzical mutt. His own life was one big distressing dream - torturous, even. Thus, he more than certainly could understand the need to audibly make that known, whether in the form of words or not.

Franken retrieved the latex gloves that had been impatiently awaiting his impending usage of them, tugging them roughly, yet carefully over his fingers, spreading his digits outwards, fitting the gloves over his palms. And with a sense of precision, and a sense of elation, he grabbed the appropriate scalpel, handling it with a tenderness he hadn’t the capacity for when it came to any other existing object or creature. He brought the blade down to the plush, vulnerable flesh of Spirit’s abdominal cavity, applying pressure as he drug it through the lengthy organ, blood beading up from the cut, slow and methodical.

A giggle bubbled up in his throat, on the cusp of his tongue, fully prepared to burst with the slightest of movements. Stein was left desperately trying to suppress the euphoric feeling from escaping from the confines of his skull, focusing instead on ensuring that the moaning scythe not awaken.

The ginger’s hand rose by a slight margin, falling over his face with a noiseless slap, as Stein revealed the blanket of subcutaneous fat and abdominal muscles beneath the sheets of flesh.

The meister’s eyes widened to an unprecedented size, marveling at a sight he’d seen a dozen times.

It never became any less awe-inspiring.

He took a rag, dabbing at the rushing blood, as he grabbed a syringe, entirely unsure of what wonder he wanted to perform first.

Allowing for the middle of Spirit’s abdomen to hang open, Franken placed the needle into a bottle of liquid iodine that he had been planning on using for quite the long while, filling the barrel with the halogen.

He smacked the aforementioned barrel with his fingertips, making certain he wouldn’t be injecting air into his partner’s veins.

Stein brought the needle down, on level with the arm that was simply lying straight upon the sheets, maneuvering the male’s fingers in such a way that he could forcefully form a fist.

A blue vein made itself known, as the meister lowered the needle further, shoving the foreign body into the unwilling skin. A bit of blood poured around the sharp injector, as he thumbed down the plunger, injecting just enough iodine to lead to mild poisoning, but not enough to be lethal, not enough to need an emergency room visit over, curious at to what might happen.

He padded the area with square, fuzzy gauze, allowing it to simply sit there and soak up any blood that dared to spill from the near-microscopic hole left by the needle, shushing the mildly writhing Spirit, whilst moving back to the enchanting incision he had made only moments prior.

He picked the bloodied scalpel up from off of his peacefully dreaming chest, his movements languid, as he scanned every picturesque feature on Spirit’s face. The weapon truly was rather beautiful, at least in Stein’s eyes. And that only made him want to rip him gracefully limb from limb even more so. Perhaps he’d keep his head in a large sort of jar, and he’d fill it with formaldehyde so his beauty could be preserved much longer. Perhaps he’d consume his nutrient-dense liver, allowing his beauty to spread throughout his gastrointestinal system, to be filtered by his own liver… He never had much interest in practicing cannibalism, however… Other than purely scientific.

The scythe’s eyelids were still delicately shut, both of his long sets of eyelashes almost cuddling with one another.

He and Marie were the most fascinating subjects he’s ever been in possession of; two picturesque, scientific wonders of his. It was almost too good to be true.

Stein took his scalpel, placing the blade at the very top of the incision, dragging further upward, the slice extending through Albarn’s thoracic cavity.

The crimson liquid rolled from the blade down to the handle, and off onto his subject’s already dirtied skin, as Franken raised his hand from the male’s form. He placed the tool down onto the tray, taking a moment to admire the buttery yellow, and the reddish striated patterns before his eyes, and just how mesmerizing they were.

He, then, proceeded to take a moment to sigh, a little disappointed he couldn’t take it further to the level of a full on dissection, forced to control and withhold his inexplicable desire, because that technically wasn’t today’s experiment, and he was out of any proper anesthetic that would leave his partner knocked out for the process.

Stein fetched his nylon sutures, readying himself for the concurrent enjoyment and dissatisfaction that always came with sewing his partner back together again.

::::———::::———::::———::::———::::

The morning rays of the rising sun shone through the blinds of each and every window, dusting across Stein’s face.

He lay with an alert expression, eyes having been wide open since he finished with his little experiments, staring daggers into the crawling animals on the ceiling.

The sound of anxious pitter-pattering towards the bathroom caught his attention, as he shot upwards. The same individual those rushing footsteps belonged to began hurling, hacking up a mixture of hydrochloric acid and their own profuse amounts of saliva.

He knew who that ‘they’ was.

The trials had begun.

“Spirit?” He called out, having stepped out into the hallway inquiringly.

The weapon whimpered, Franken listening as he, ever the crybaby, choked on a sob.

“Don’ feel good,” he slurred, his fingers gripping the toilet bowl like a vice, his complexion impressively pallid, somehow even more so than Stein. The only color present in his visage being his vermillion-coated cheeks, of which stretched out to the very tips of his ears.

Stein kneeled beside the scythe, placing his hand upon his sweat-slick forehead, of which was scorchingly hot. Spirit nuzzled into his partner’s freezing touch, shakily whining.

“You have a fever.. Would you like me to get you some Zofran and water?” He offered. “I can get the thermometer, too..”

“Yeah… An’ some Advil. Why’re you bein’ so nice?” He questioned exasperatedly.

Because I am here to observe every single symptom you exhibit that I have bestowed upon you.

“I’m bored and I find illness fascinating,” Albarn rolled his overtired eyes, leaning into the crook of his arm to roughly cough.

“Yeah, that tracks… Thanks, anyway,” he sniveled. “C’n you call ‘n sick for me, too? I clearly can’t go to school like this.”

“Sure,” Stein agreed, exiting the bathroom to retrieve all of the necessary supplies, including his cellphone.

Spirit’s hushed mewls could be heard in the background as he conversed with the staff working in DWMA’s office, more acid being excreted from his churning stomach.

“Here, Spirit,” Stein held out an ondansetron tablet towards his weapon-partner after having finished with the call, placing a glass of water on the counter, ibuprofen beside it, holding the thermometer for himself.

Albarn graciously accepted the medicine, putting it beneath his nasty tongue, allowing it to dissolve into his bloodstream, attempting to ignore his pounding temples whilst it did as such.

He massaged circles into his skull, his countenance stuck in a permanent grimace, as the meister merely stood, watching him, observing him with pensive eyes.

He was underneath the inspecting lens of Stein’s microscope.

“Advil and water, please,” he held his hands out expectantly, Franken handing him the gel pill.

“Do you want me to help you with the water?” The ginger popped the Advil, awaiting the pleasantly cooling liquid.

“Why?”

He pointed towards the weapon’s hands. “You’re trembling.”

“Oh, yeah… Tremors,” a disappointed sigh racked his shuddering frame. “Fine, if I have to.”

Stein grabbed the glass from off of the marble, moving to sit beside his partner, as he slotted the edge of the cup in between his most likely bitter-tasting lips, tilting it upwards.

He obediently took sips, swallowing the pill, only to place both of his hands around the glass and, with assistance from male next to him, swig every last drop of water down his burning, scratchy throat.

“Ah,” he put his relief on display. “Thank you,” Stein stood, depositing the glass back onto the counter, as Spirit fussed, evidently seeking comfort from the same individual who had hardly heard of the concept. “I wanna go back to bed.”

“Let me check your temperature first,” Franken spoke in his typical monotone, sticking the thermometer into his ear, the beeping disturbing the both of them.

A part of Albarn found his meister’s voice to be the least soothing thing ever, a public display of his apathy. But another part of him found its gentle timbre to be relaxing, its steady, unchanging rhythm something he could easily fall asleep to.

“39 degrees,” Stein read aloud, Spirit groaning in response, as deliberately sitting it next to the emptied glass. “All right, let’s go… Here,” he lifted the scythe up by his armpits, shifting him and allowing him to lean against his form, Spirit’s head resting against the top of his own.

Franken pushed open Spirit’s bedroom door, assisting him with getting settled under the comforter, pulling the blanket all the way up to his collarbones.

The scythe winced, sucking in air through his gnashing teeth, moaning in pain.

“What is it?” Stein knowingly asked.

“I’ve b’n having, like.. not only inner stomach pain, but outward, if that makes sense. It’s like my skin… and even some of the deeper layers of my skin are really tender, an’ it hurts when I move in certain ways,” he deliriously elucidated. “An’ I don’ ev’n know how I ended up with this shirt on me. I could’ve sworn I’d fall’n asleep with my shirt off… Maybe I sleep walked? Or jus’, actually, forgot to take it off?”

Stein shrugged his shoulders, inching farther and farther away from Spirit - much too far for his liking.

“You’re not leaving are you?” Albarn rushed out, almost sounded panicked.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it,” he slinked under the covers with his partner. “You actually want me to stay?

The redhead appeared almost bashful as he replied, his already vibrant cheeks becoming rosier. “Well, um… I don’ really like bein’ alone like this. I c’n hardly ev’n think, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” he chuckled, making himself comfortable on the weapon’s awfully silky sheets.

“Oh! An’, uh… My right arm’s b’n a little sore, too… A li’le bruised.. ‘M starting to think I really am a sleep walker..”

“You’re ending up like me,” he jested with a smirk.

“I really am! I wake up with cuts an’ bruises an’ shit all the time, an’ I never know how I got ‘em! Like, huge scars, too! Kinda like you… I don’ know how you manage to wake up with new bruises all the time, but now I do, I guess,” he allowed for the weight of his eyelids to emerge victoriously as they fell, a particularly piteous and raspy cough beating its way from out of his oral cavity. “There was ev’n a little speck of blood on my sheets, I think, when I woke up.”

I suppose I got a little sloppy this time.

“Going to sleep?” Stein asked, suppressing a pleased grin as he imagined how the previously gaping hole in the male’s abdomen must look now.

“Thin’ so,” he murmured sleepily.

Humans were so adorable sometimes, along with fascinating. How could Spirit possibly fall asleep with an individual such as Stein merely right beside him? Franken often questioned whether or not he should even sleep in the same apartment as his weapon… And really in the presence of anyone, which only served to worsen his treacherous and horrid insomnia.. Though, perhaps that was a good thing. He knew the truth. Perhaps this was Spirit’s way of tricking him into believing that he was safe to sleep, and he’d exact his revenge on him come nightfall.

Whatever the case may be, the moment the scythe’s breaths steady to a certain point, and his wheezing ceases, he’d examine the infuriated scar that was clearly forming. He’d need to take the stitches out rather early and hope for the best… Or perhaps he could utilize a little ability he had been working on..

Albarn soon stopped moving entirely, though Franken still poked him a couple of times simply to make sure.

He soundlessly twisted himself out of the coziness of his partner’s comforter, tip-toeing over to where he tranquilly rested, pulling the covers down slowly and gently. The ginger whined a long complaint out in his sleep, but as soon as Stein began deliberately running fingers through his scalp, he returned to his former contented state.

How easy.

He found the hem of the male’s shirt, lifting it warily, as the owner writhed. The sight before him was a heavenly one; the cut was enraged, ruby red and pinkish, the stitches holding the skin together evidently against its will.

With ungloved hands, Stein pulled each and every section of the thread out conscientiously, a little bit of blood smearing on his fingertips.

The incision reopened - not to completion, but it could still most certainly be classified as having been open, as the mad meister took an attentive seat on the edge of the bed, just barely not touching the older boy’s legs.

He had been rigorously practicing it for a long while, practicing making sutures with his soul wavelength, and it had been going rather well, but he never once tested it on a breathing human subject, despite the passionate desire and impulse to do so. Thus, as he eyed the angry wound, he muttered as quietly as possible, “Soul thread sutures,” holding a focused hand above the injury, concentrating on his static-filled wavelength, as he heard the faint sound of skin being sewn together.

His soul-curated stitches were crafted in such a way as to not be visible to the naked eye, to anyone’s naked eye, not simply just so he could continue his non-consensual and delightfully unethical human experiments, but also so he could utilize them on the battlefield - leaving enemies sewn to the ground and unable to continue fighting, confused as to what has caused their sudden paralysis.

It was nearly flawless.

And as he opened his eyes, the incision was sutured perfectly together, the skin almost appearing as one again, if it weren’t for the long line going down the scythe’s middle. It, thankfully, just looked like a healing and irritated scar now.

With this, and hopefully with a shipment of proper anesthetics, he could, soon, proceed with a true dissection. Of course, he couldn’t detach his organs from the rest of his body, but he could definitely have a little look around, and analyze whatever differences and similarities exist between weapon-human bodies, and average human bodies. He could observe what this most engrossing and riveting scythe was made of.

Just the thought was enough to brighten his morning in a way no other thought or other thing could. He didn’t just want to dissect him and everything else, he needed to dissect him and everything else. There was nothing else that made him feel so… good. He might even give up cigarettes if it meant he could dissect all day, everyday…. If he could face no repercussions for his actions. Sure, the possible consequences add an obvious layer of thrill to the vivisections, but they were such godsends on their own, that they didn’t need that extra layer. He couldn’t care less whether there were consequences or not - dissection, both metaphorical and physical, and observation were all that mattered to the unhinged, maladjusted scientist - without it, what would he be? Who would he be? How would he be?

He bit into his lip, hard enough to draw a teensy bit of blood, as he tittered, pulling the weapon’s shirt back down, and tossing the covers back over him.

If he lost the ability to dissect, he’d lose everything. He owes his life to dissection, to the scientific method itself - it’s how he’s survive in a world not suited for the likes of him.

It was an addictive force.. It was his drug, besides the nicotine. It was his only shred of will to live. But what would become of him if he indulged in it too much, if he fell into it like an abyssal hole he failed to detect? What would become of him if he allowed himself to disintegrate, allowed it all to slip through his fingers? But it felt so wondrous…

It was the static that felt as gut-wrenching as a crucifixion. And surely he’d be crucified if he were to continue. But he had to. What else would he do? Dissection was his life, it was the oxygen he breathed, even the static had become a cruel mistress to him. Even if he was being destroyed, where would he go in the forest without that vintage radio? Without his scalpels?

But he could never put his steel blade down at the end of the day. Nor could he release his hold on the radio and allow himself to be taken away by those shouting endlessly into the waves of static, pleading for his return, or really, his first steps into their world.

Perhaps he’d just allow for the thievery of his soul. He’d observe, sitting in a lawn chair as everything and everyone crashed and burned.

After all, he could never learn to properly care.

<——————>

[thestitchywitchy]

PAC: What Effect Do You Have On Others?

Hello and welcome to my second PAC! I was not expecting the wonderful feedback from my first one. Thank you so much!! 💐 I hope I can continue putting out PACs everyone likes in the future 🙃 This one is about what effect you have on those around you and others you come in contact with. I hope you enjoy and feedback would be greatly appreciated as always 😊

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To book a reading with me, please DM me or send an email to thestitchywitchy@yahoo.com with your inquiry 💌

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Please take a breath, close your eyes, and choose a cocktail that stands out most to you. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you feel inclined to choose more than one group, please feel free to do so.

Pictures are from Pinterest, credit to the owners. Editing was done by me.

Group One - Purple Cocktail | Group Two - Pink Cocktail | Group Three - Blue Cocktail | Group Four - Yellow Cocktail

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Group One 💜

2 of Swords, 5 of Swords (rx), The Chariot

Hello group 1, welcome to your reading! The effect you have on others is that you inspire them to take action. Where most people might avoid certain situations like apologizing when they’re wrong, taking responsibility over projects, or even just staying on path to reach a goal; you’re the one who goes out and pursues those things. You have a lot of determination and will power that inspires those around you but what they don’t understand is that it took a lot for you to gain this much control. You’re not letting hard choices and past mistakes take hold of you the way they used to and that is incredible of you, group one! That takes a lot of mental and emotional strength. What I see when hanging out with you is people getting inspired by your passion, like a leader making a speech at a pep rally. Lots of amped up energy but for a good cause. The unwavering calm in the chaos that people look to for answers. You could sway a crowd with your passionate words if you really wanted to. I feel that some of you may be activists, as well. Now that I think of it...if any of you have read "Magic, Lies, and Deadly Pies" your energy reminds me a lot of the character Melly. I definitely recommend that book! People look to you when it’s time to make difficult decisions. You seem to always have the answers and people can’t help but gravitate towards you. This is a good time to remind you that its ok to slow down every once in awhile, group one. There will always be a problem for you to solve after you get some much needed rest. Taking a breather is good for the soul🌬 I’m getting that some of you have this thing of going out of your way to find a mistake to fix. Some of you even go out of your way to start fights lol and Spirit is saying that you need to pull back from that energy a bit. Some issues aren’t worth your time and every conversation doesn’t need to turn into a debate, you know what I mean? Save that fire for the bigger issues. But other than that, you really know how to get people to kick it into gear and chase those goals! You've got great leadership qualities that I feel you should lean into more. Thanks for reading, group one! ☺️

Other intuitive messages for group one: 242; 424; purple hair; curls of either ribbon or hair; a city bus; Scorpio, Aquarius/11th house, Capricorn, Pisces placements; "Taco Tuesday"; library; bean bag chairs; meeting around a table/in a circle; study group kind of vibes

Group Two 💗

Queen of Cups (rx), The World (rx), Judgement

Hello and welcome to your reading, group 2! You have a very soothing and calming effect on others. There is something about you that makes people want to take their time to stop and smell the roses. People feel comfortable around you. Your vibe is very welcoming so it allows others to feel like they can open up to you. You may be a stickler for self care and self love, which i find to be so sweet. Over all, I’m just getting a really pleasant vibe from this group. When I try to envision hanging out with those who chose this group what I get is being surrounded by fluffy pink clouds, kind of an airy feel to the environment…time is moving by slowly but everyone has smiles on their face while chit chatting and eating finger sandwiches on comfy couches. Then we get a glimpse outside of the clouds where the rest of the world goes by in real time. There is so much hustle and bustle and it’s feels like you have to stick to a certain schedule. All that looks daunting so no one wants to leave the happy cloud space lol they just want to sit and hang out with you! You really know how to create a welcoming environment! I get the feeling that a handful of you like to host guests and parties. A lot of you have a knack for it. Your presence makes people want to slow down from their busy lives. People feel like they can share their inner feelings with you because you feel like a judgment free zone to them. I must warn to be careful with this because some people may become co dependent on you because of how safe you make them feel. I’m getting that it will be important for you to set firm boundaries with these individuals. Let them know when you aren’t emotionally available to take on their problems currently but will be at a later time. You’re definitely someone people go to when they need a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. The giver or mom of the friend group. You make people feel safe, loved, and cared for so you may find yourself being surrounded by people who need healing often. But with all that you do for other people, you have to remember to take time to care for yourself as well. It’s been a pleasure, group two, but your reading has now come to an end. Thank you for being here 😊

Other intuitive messages for group two: 626; Pisces, Virgo, Taurus, 7th house, Cancer/4th house placements; 727; Alice in Wonderland -esque tea party; the Mad Hatter specifically; Small feet; dainty cookies; melty marshmallow in hot cocoa; a lot of small, cute, and whimsy imagery like fluffly bunnies made out of cotton candy lol

Group Three 💙

The Fool, Hermit (rx), 9 of Wands

Welcome to your reading, group 3, nice to have you here! The effect you have on others is that there is just something about you that makes people want to get out of their comfort zones. I think a lot of people have the tendency to people please because they're afraid of being alone, but you don't seem to have that issue and people are awed and inspired by that. You aren't afraid to walk this path alone and you often leave people wondering how you do it so effortlessly. You're really good about keeping firm on your boundaries with others. Some people get off put or maybe even butthurt by this because they don't understand your reasoning for doing so, but others respect it but worry that you may isolate yourself too much from others at times. I'm getting that they just want to spend more time with you but also they don't want to bother or disrupt you because you're off doing you're own thing. Some may think there's a naivety to your nature but I think you're just more private about your plans so this leads to people assuming this about you. You'd just rather walk to the beat of your own drum and not everyone gets it's, but that's ok. Keep doing you. When hanging out with you, I think you'd rather dive into deeper or obscure topics. It makes some people uncomfortable but for others, it gets them out of their comfort zones and they think about topics they don't normally think about. They really enjoy your viewpoint on things. It may be different from what they normally get in their typical daily conversations. It seems that a lot of people admire your courage, group three. You have a lot of originality that people wish they could pull off! You often enjoy your own company and you also don't really let other people's opinion obscure your own. By doing this, you've created a style or a vibe about you that's all your own. You're pretty resilient as well. It looks like a lot of you who chose this pile have had to struggle to keep their originality by either having to support themselves in a not so typical fashion or having to stand up for their sense of style or interests. You seem to always get lucky in your pursuits and it often leaves people wondering how you do it. Honestly, a lot of you in this group have a handful of haters in your midst lol. A good handful of people around you always expect you to fail in your endeavors so they get really surprised when they turn out in your favor. Good for you, pile three! Show those haters how it's done 😂 overall, you keep people guessing. People are interested in what you're up to next. Thank you for reading, group three!

Other intuitive message for group three: 818; caramel corn; team mates acting against each other; red and blue; roasted carrots; Capricorn/10th house, Gemini/3rd house, Sagittarius/9th house placements; plaid scarf; a potluck; smell of herbs on your fingertips; cheers like a toast; checking off a to do list; koalas

Group Four 💛

7 of Cups, Ace of Cups (rx), 10 of Pentacles

Hi there, group four, welcome to your reading! I'll jump right to it. You have a very dependable but at the same time illusionary effect on others. By this I mean that the people around you may not entirely know the real you and it seems that most of you are fine with this, for the most part! For those of you who are not, it's ok to show the real you and you should probably do it more often. Others will be a lot more accepting of the true you than you may realize. A lot of you in this group may be the people pleaser of the friend group, which isn't a bad thing but you should ask yourself if you're really content doing it... People see in you what you can do for them and that has an effect on them. They get excited about the possibilities. You may try to come off as wealthy, or over selling how much you really enjoy your job, or you often post about going out to eat, treating yourself or your friends to nice things, partying, etc... just really playing up your lifestyle. These are all lovely things and kudos to you for achieving them, but are you really happy and doing it for yourself? Or are you only doing it because you want people to believe you're happy and successful? A lot of people in your group like to take advantage of your good nature and need to do things for others. There is nothing wrong with doing things for others from the kindness of your heart. But with that, give yourself some respect by getting rid of toxic individuals and setting firmer boundaries for yourself. A lot of you like to paint a picture for others to see so that they may be distracted by who you are behind the mask. For the most part, people believe the image you're trying to portray. But for those closest and who truly care about you, they do worry about you burning out trying to keep everyone else happy. You don't need to make everyone else happy, dear. Your true friends will enjoy your company regardless of what you can offer them. You repress your emotions a lot and others can sense it but most of them aren't going to pry and pull it out of you. Spirit is urging you to be more vocal about things that are bothering you. what I'm getting is that, for a lot of you in this group, people find you to be a little bit naive. They think you have a lot of opportunities going for you but may feel you're not taking them as seriously as you could be. It seems that a lot of people are confused about how to feel about you, group four. On one hand, people see you as financially secure, successful, and that you have a good home life. But on the other hand, they get a vibe that you're not as happy as you try to come off to people and they wonder what it is you're hiding. For those of you who are ok with people not getting the full picture of you, keep doing you! For those of you who are not, Spirit is encouraging a change in how you present yourself to others. You'll be pleasantly surprised by the outcome. All right, that's it's for now group 4! Thanks for joining me ☺️

Other intuitive messages for group four: 123; purple perfume bottle; Pisces, Libra/7th house, Gemini, Virgo placements; adventures; starting over; spilled milk; something to do with either hunting or a trophy of sorts; “fair game”; take out menus; Snorlax the Pokémon; picking berries

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All rights reserved to @thestitchywitchy. Thank you for participating in this pick a card reading 😊 if you liked this reading and would like to dive in further, please DM me for a $7.77 extended reading 💞

[her-reidiance]

Holomyth inspired cocktails!

Debuting at Anime Expo this year. Book me for your hotel parties! (@Reinathebarmaid on instagram, dm me there for inquiries)

Drink names are: Gura's Atlantian Soda, Watson's Ame-retto, Kiara's Chickenshot, Calli's Lit Reaper, and Ina's Inkshot. If you order all 5 we call that the Journey Like a Thousand Years. Cause it'll feel like that when you wake up.

[iiryoku]

@sagnaevi RANDOM ASK. I ACCEPTING.

"Dear, Doctor, did you forget that handsome bust of yours? It's not often you go out in public without it." / aven to ratio, missing that silly bust.

Depths looking like a captivating dawn focused upon the familiar male's, as always, handsome features as soon as those words graced his ears. A deep sigh could be heard at the inquiry as it was rather meaningless. After all, there was no reason, as of right now, for him to wear his elegant headpiece. Here were no students, who could get embarrassingly distracted nor was it a time for him to be deep in thought. No, for once, he was simply enjoying, what was going on around him, despite not being a fan of the IPC galas. They were always over-flashy and lacking any proper stimulation. He was honestly rather bored, but then again, that should come as no surprise, to those who knew him.

❝ And you seem to have forgotten a feather or two, dear gambler. Or, did someone demand you to be less peacock-esque this evening? If you would rather speak to my bust, that can be arranged, even if it will look rather unflattering. ❞

With that said, strong digits picked up the nearby cocktail before letting some of the liquid disappear between fair lips. At least they had decent drinks, the doctor thought as his gaze settled on the familiar neon depths. And now, perhaps, he wouldn't be so bored.

[yuujispinkhair]

Kabukicho Love (Chapter 01)

I don't wanna check into the Tokyo Love Hotel. I just want your love all to myself

Successful but lonely businessman Sukuna gave up on love. Why put his heart on the line when he can just as easily buy "love" from the prettiest escorts of Tokyo? But why does this supposedly fake love feel so real when he's with the new boy he booked?

Pairing: Sukuna x Escort!Yuuji Genre: Escort AU, smut, fluff Word Count: 2.3k Playlist: Sukuita Escort AU Warnings: 18+, smut, sex work, age gap (Yuuji is 21 and Sukuna 30), in later chapters: oral, fingering, rimming, anal, cum eating, alcohol, light angst, mention of a side character's death, mutual pining. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The picture I used in the header is from the Manhwa BJ Alex. There is art now for this series! Thank you so much to @/silverink58 for drawing this beautiful picture of Sukuna and Yuuji for me! I'm so happy that you let me commission you!

Thank you so much to Liz @lizarts01 for drawing this super hot and super cute picture of Yuuji + Nobara as sexy bunnies!! I am losing my mind!!

And thank you so much to @/cometcoffee103 for making this beautiful moodboard for the AU!

"So, what can I do for you today? Need a little sweetness in your busy life again?"

Gojo's icy blue eyes fix Sukuna amusedly over the rim of his cocktail glass. His arrogance and blatant mockery are something Sukuna hates about his former classmate. Gojo Satoru is one of the only people who don't treat Sukuna respectfully. The problem is probably that Sukuna and Gojo are too similar. And arrogance isn't the only thing they have in common. Gojo is also the best in his field of business, just like Sukuna is in his.

They went to college together, both majoring in economics. Sukuna graduated to take over the family business empire, becoming the CEO of the S.H.R.I.N.E. Group, while Gojo built his own empire in Tokyo's glittering red light district. And his most lucrative business is the Infinity Escort Service. First class company for the rich and influential people of Tokyo.

A busy man like Sukuna gets lonely sometimes. Maybe that's his biggest regret. He always puts all his time into his work, and his little free time is spent at the gym or networking in bars or restaurants. So he doesn't have time to actually meet someone. By now he is 30, and while most people his age are already married, he has no one to come home to.

At this point, Sukuna doesn't believe in love anymore. Not after his former fiancee left him after three years for a man twice his age but also twice as rich.

There isn't love for a man like Sukuna. Only sex and money.

And that's where his old dormmate Gojo comes into the picture.

Gojo takes pride in acquiring the most exclusive escorts. They are all gorgeous. Pretty face, smooth skin, well-groomed with fit bodies and immaculate style. A feast for the eyes.

And they have to undergo a training to blend in with the rich and famous, meaning you can take them to the most exclusive restaurants without making a fool of yourself. They have the proper manners. They know which wine goes with what and can hold conversations about current events.

They are excellent in the bedroom too, of course. That's the unofficial part, though. But everyone knows you don't just book an escort for a nice dinner.

So long story short, Sukuna always calls up Gojo when he feels a bit lonely. He knows he can always count on his old friend to understand what he wants.

And tonight Sukuna has a special inquiry.

He tilts his head back to swallow the vodka shot before putting the glass back down on the table and looking at his former classmate with a slight smirk on his handsome face.

"I'm going on a little vacation, actually. A weekend at the beach. And I'm looking for some nice company."

"Ooooh, I understand. You want to unwind after all the hard work. It's what you deserve! And I have the perfect cutie to keep you company. I have a new boy! You haven't met him yet. Absolutely gorgeous and eager to please. And he has the perfect beach body! Look here! Isn't he cute?"

Gojo shoves his iPad across the table, internet browser opened to the Infinity profile of an escort going by the name Yuuji. Sukuna draws in a breath.

His friend wasn't lying. The boy is really stunning. Bright sunshine smile, light brown eyes that almost glow golden in some of the pictures, smooth tan skin, athletic figure with well-defined buff muscles, a cute firm round ass, and to Sukuna's amusement, pastel pink hair like himself.

"He looks cute."

Gojo's grin is far too conceited when he leans across the table and nods enthusiastically.

"I know! See, I told you I have what you need. I'll let sweet Yuuji know that he has plans for next weekend. Oh, he will be so excited when he hears he'll go to the beach! He's so cute! You'll absolutely love him!"

Sukuna is glad for the dark sunglasses he is wearing when the boy is walking towards his Porsche. At least this way, he can check him out unashamedly. And oh yes, he is definitely someone who's a feast for Sukuna's hungry gaze.

Yuuji is even more gorgeous in real life. He shines as bright as the sun with that pretty broad smile and the sparkle in his honey-colored eyes.

He's walking confidently, with big fast strides. Strong body and strong boy. He doesn't look like the typical bottom, but that makes him even more perfect in Sukuna's eyes. He will have a lot of fun playfully wrestling with this strong cutie, pressing him down onto the bed, making him whimper and moan. Fuck, it has been too long! His pants are already feeling too tight just from one look at his little pet for the weekend.

The boy slips into the passenger seat with the same big sunshine smile and movie star glow he had in all of the pictures Gojo showed to Sukuna.

He's so pretty. And sweet like honey too, apparently, because he turns to look at Sukuna and bows his head respectfully before addressing him with a cute and sexy voice that sounds too excited to be fake:

"Heyy, I am Yuuji! It's so nice to meet you, sir! Thank you so much for inviting me on this trip. I am so excited! I wanted to go to the beach for years!"

Sukuna is watching him with a lazy smirk, slowly taking off his sunglasses to get an even better look. The boy's eyes widen, and he blushes the slightest bit. He's getting cuter by the second.

Yuuji scratches his neck a bit sheepishly,

"Um, sorry... I... I am just really excited. But I forgot to ask you, what should I call you? Is sir ok? Or do you prefer something else? Master? Your name? Or maybe Daddy?"

Sukuna smirks in amusement. Such a sweetheart, so eager to please. He likes that in a boy.

"Thank you for accompanying me, Yuuji. It's nice to meet you too. Call me Sukuna. And Master in the bedroom. But we'll get to that later."

Yuuji smiles and bites his lip at Sukuna's words. He looks cute enough to eat.

Sukuna laughs softly, reaching out to gently cup the boy's cheek and caress it with his thumb.

"Let's drive, so you can enjoy the beach all afternoon, hm?"

Yuuji's honey eyes sparkle at him in excitement, and he nods eagerly. Sukuna already feels some of the tension that all the long stressful weeks of work caused leave him. The beach and this sweetheart will be good for him!

It's a three-hour-long drive, and Yuuji seems to be a talkative thing. He is cute at it, though, a charming boy that seems genuinely happy to ride shotgun in a Porsche and head towards a five-star beach resort. It's endearing. He comments on the car and the landscape around them and asks Sukuna all kinds of questions, polite and sweet. Gojo taught him very well.

"Do you do that often, Sukuna? Take trips to the beach?"

"No, usually I don't have time for that. It's been probably a whole year since I last had a little downtime like that. Usually, my work comes first. But I need some time to recharge. And if I take a timeout, I want to enjoy it to the fullest. That's why you are here."

"In that case, I will do my best to make it an enjoyable weekend for you and make sure you can forget your stressy work."

There's a smile on Yuuji's pretty face when Sukuna turns his head to look at him. The corners of Sukuna's lips lift in a grin too, and he reaches out to put a hand on Yuuji's muscular thigh, giving it a squeeze, enjoying the feel of the firm muscles.

"Oh, I am sure you will, honey."

A few hours later, Sukuna is lounging comfortably on a beach chair at the private beach of the holiday resort while letting his gaze travel slowly over Yuuji's naked skin.

Gojo was right. The boy really is perfect. Especially now when he's only wearing a pair of snug beach trunks, bright red and accentuating his cute round ass enticingly.

The tan skin, broad shoulders, and narrow hips add to his sexy appearance. A body full of toned muscles, just as fit as Sukuna himself, but slightly leaner and not quite as tall as him.

Sukuna grins slightly. This has got to be the best one so far. Sukuna likes them submissive and eager to please but with a strong body. Makes it sweeter somehow when a guy like that gets on his knees for him and wants to be dominated.

His fingers twitch, feeling the urge to reach out and touch that smooth skin and the firm muscles. But Sukuna can hold back. He doesn't want to rush things. Better keep the tension a while longer. The anticipation, the hunger. He likes to prove to himself that he can control himself. And it will be even better to reward himself tonight after dinner with this beautiful boy as a dessert.

Yuuji plops down on the beach chair next to him with a happy sigh. His honey gaze meets Sukuna's, and he smiles.

"It's so beautiful here!"

"Hmm, yes. And you are beautiful too, sweetheart."

Sukuna likes to do that. Flirt and watch the reaction. See how flustered the recipient of his compliments becomes. He watches the boy with an amused smirk.

Yuuji laughs and beams happily at him.

"Aww, thank you! But you are too. I'm really lucky this weekend."

The last part is said in a slightly lower voice, and he cocks his head cutely and looks deeply into Sukuna's eyes. There's a light blush on his cheeks, making them glow prettily.

Sukuna's grin grows wider. Oh, he loves that!

Of course, he knows that Yuuji is an escort and gets paid for being sweet to his customers. It's part of his job to flatter them and charm them. But when the boy says he is lucky that Sukuna booked him, it is probably true since other customers aren't as hot as him.

Sukuna is confident about his own looks. He knows how attractive he is. A handsome face, pretty eyes, and a tall and muscular body, which he takes good care of. He knows the effect he has on people. And he can see the glances the boy is stealing at him. He can see the desire in those honey eyes.

So when you think about it, they are both winners this weekend. Sukuna gets cute company and lots of good sex with no strings attached. And Yuuji gets a generous amount of money for spending a weekend at a five-star beach resort with a man who is not only attractive but also intends to fuck his cute little brains out.

The sunshine smile is back on the boy's face. He looks like an angel. A sexy angel.

Sukuna wants to ruin him and at the same time, spoil and pamper him like the cutest little pet.

Sukuna's smirk turns devilish as he spreads his legs and pats the space between them.

"Come here, darling. Let me apply some sunscreen for you. Don't want my pretty boy to get a sunburn."

He doesn't miss the way Yuuji bites his bottom lip at his words. He is sitting between Sukuna's thighs just seconds later. Almost purring like a little kitten when the older man rubs some sunscreen between his large hands before applying it carefully to Yuuji's back and arms.

Sukuna takes his time spreading it slowly over Yuuji's broad shoulders and massaging them gently before trailing his hands all over those toned biceps and down his muscular back.

"You're so good to me, Master. Taking such good care of me."

"Of course. A sweet boy like you deserves it, don't you, honey? You'll be so good to Master too, won't you?"

Yuuji's hands land on Sukuna's thighs, slowly caressing his firm muscles, and he nods,

"Yes, I will."

Sukuna chuckles softly, loving how putty the boy gets under his caresses. He leans closer to press a gentle kiss to the back of Yuuji's neck. His lips hover over Yuuji's skin afterwards, breathing in his sweet scent, cherry hairspray, and the same expensive perfume Gojo uses, combined with the unique smell of Yuuji's sun-kissed skin and the sunscreen Sukuna just massaged into his skin.

"Good boy."

Yuuji's fingers dig into Sukuna's thighs. Ah, a praise kink, huh? That's cute.

Sukuna smiles against Yuuji's neck and trails some more soft kisses over the hot skin. Until the boy lets himself fall against Sukuna's broad chest, resting his back against him and tilting his head to look up at him.

One of his hands finds its way into Sukuna's hair, fingernails scratching gently over the short hair of Sukuna's undercut, so similar to Yuuji's hairstyle.

"Master... can I kiss you, please?"

Sukuna feels heat pool in his stomach. This cute boy is really anything he wished for on this little weekend getaway! So perfect for him!

He puts a finger under Yuuji's chin to tilt his head back further and leans down with a grin and a husky whispered:

"Kiss me, sweetheart."

The moment his lips touch Yuuji's, he feels his eyes close involuntarily, lips opening against the sweet sensation of the boy's soft mouth. Yuuji is an eager kisser, sweet and oh so good at it.

His lips are soft and his tongue silky and hot, flicking sensually against Sukuna's, caressing it with so much abandon and tenderness. Kisses as sweet as the boy himself.

Sukuna groans softly into Yuuji's mouth. God, he can already tell that the boy is amazing at giving head. Someone who kisses like that will also excel at worshipping a cock with that cute little mouth.

But that's for later. Something to look forward to for tonight. Right now, Sukuna is going to kiss his pretty pet a bit more and then go for a swim with him and watch the beads of water run down his tan skin. Get drunk on those kisses and that smile and that gorgeous body.

He already knows that this weekend at the beach with this cute boy is the best decision he has made all year. Sukuna hasn't felt this relaxed in months.

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter! I am so happy to finally share a Sukuita story with you again! They have a special place in my heart, and this Escort AU is so much fun to write! Let's see how long it will take until they fall in love :) I'm not sure how many chapters this AU will have, but I am currently at 19k words and haven't finished writing all scenes yet.

I hope you enjoyed the story! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs make me very happy!

Chapter 2

[dandyshucks]

This is gonna sound rude as hell but i do not mean it that way: are you currently medicated? My meds have helped me a lot with my own physical responses to anxiety and yours seem severe so that’s why i ask

this is the funniest ask i've ever received in my life and also incredibly kind, thank u anon fjdskl, my anxiety really is severe huh LMAO (not laughing at you!! laughing at myself and my situation fsdjkl)

yes i am medicated but ... not well LOL. i live rural in an area that is infamous for having poor healthcare (plus canada's healthcare system is kind of broken lately RIP) so my medical team is pretty useless and incompetent to say the least fdsjkl. plus unfortunately my entire situation is just... really difficult to fix (and cope with) in many different ways fdjsjkl, and this makes medicating me properly kind of impossible ^^;;

i appreciate the concern and inquiry/suggestion though, genuinely !!! and i've got the heart pounding/palpitations i struggled with under control with a relatively recent addition to my medication cocktail, so its not all bad !! :]

[goodgirlofglory]

Silver fox and the Captain - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 - /Masterpost/

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 2,1k

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit descriptions of violence, wounds and blood, pov of a character that nearly dies, some angst and general vile behavior.

Summary: Your meticulously crafted world is falling apart as dangerous figures from the underworld catches your scent. Things explode.

You were in deep shit. Deep, deep, flaming shit. 

You stood in the shadows, watching silently as the two men approached the table lit by the one ceiling lamp in the room. Your heart hammered painfully in your chest as you watched them sit down and start to talk.

Around the room, at least thirteen different men stood, armed to the teeth with guns and knives and batons and god knew what else. Half of them were your potential adversaries for the night, half were tentative allies. 

Not that you’d had much of a choice in allying with them. 

You’d been caught off guard walking down the street a block from your home when they’d taken you. One of your frequent buyers over the years, Caius, had had enough of your disappointing wares lately, and had decided to give you a choice. 

Bruised and tied to a chair in an abandoned facility that smelled of old, rotted fish, you’d “agreed” to become his employee in order to make up for the loss in his profits. Indefinitely.

You’d tried to argue that you worked better alone, and that you would find more valuable goods for him if he let you go, but he hadn’t been amenable to negotiations. Bitter tears had stung your cheeks by the time you were hauled along with the rest of his crew to his secret base. Caius's task for you had luckily worked as a sort of claim, and as one of few women working for him, you'd been exempt from an apparent "free use"- rule for females at the camp. That was, until now at least.

Now, two weeks later, you found yourself in the middle of a deal exchange, smack dab in the middle of the room where it happened. Every one of your instincts told you this was wrong. That you were in the wrong place. You were supposed to be hidden in the rafters or on the roof, waiting for the Avengers to bust in and take the criminals out. You were not supposed to be one of them. But what choice did you have?

Your mission was even worse. Steal directly from the opposing gang while the deal was underway - to add a little extra something-something to the profits of the night. A plan Caius had been particularly proud of, as he puffed his disgusting cigar smoke in your face. How you were supposed to achieve this was not included in his genius plan. But the message was clear; if you didn’t have something extra to present to him by the time you got back to base, you wouldn’t get the chance again. 

You were fucked. Utterly fucked. 

Goodbye, not so sweet life filled with hardship and toils. At least it had been life. You would be dead by first light. You could feel it, and the feeling of powerlessness in realizing that had you almost clawing at your own skin. 

A faint vertigo hit you as you stood waiting with the rest, watching the two men at the table negotiate prizes. Acid rose high in your throat, threatening to empty your stomach at any second. This was it, your cue. You needed to move. A moment passed. You needed to move!

Your body didn’t obey you. Didn’t move an inch from your position at the wall. You realized belatedly that you were frozen in fear, something you’d never experienced before. In your periphery, you saw someone’s eyes drift to you. Another man a couple paces to your right shifted. They could all feel the tension growing, scenting it in the air like blood hounds. 

Misery mixed with fear inside you, creating a toxic cocktail in your system as Caius’s eyes drifted to you, a silent inquiry as to why you hadn’t begun your mission yet. You had no answer, couldn’t draw breath. You were choking on the air in your lungs, and the atmosphere became heavy, stifling and hot. Something was about to go very, very wrong. The premonition settled like an ice cold needle prick at the base of your skull.

You hadn’t so much as blinked before the room exploded in disarray. You hadn’t seen who’d drawn their weapons first, but it didn’t matter. The man Caius had been negotiating with was dead, his brains scattered in pink splotches of pulp over the table, Caius standing over him with a smoking gun in his hand. All around you people pulled firearms and guns out, and then the bullets were flying. You ducked down to the floor, a panic so strong it felt like some outer world force propelling you forward. You could hear the men dying around you, grunting, yelling and falling with heavy thuds against the floor and the walls in between the deafening roar of bullets. 

You crawled towards the exit as fast as your limbs, stiff with fright, could take you, among dead bodies and blood spray. The sights were horrific. There was a reason you’d avoided the fighting all these years. 

You got to the door, flung open by someone else who’d probably fled at first shot, and crawled out. 

Out. You were out of the room! Now you needed to run! You couldn’t go home, didn’t have any other safe house this side of the globe. Couldn’t risk reaching out to any old contacts. Couldn’t trust anyone. You just needed to run. 

You staggered to your feet and made to sprint down the hall when a gunshot went off. Your body jolted, not out of fear, but impact. Pain, duller than you’d expect, bloomed from your abdomen. Ahead, you faintly registered a bullethole in the wall. 

Not quite registering what was happening, you touched a hand to your stomach. It came back coated with thick, dark red blood. It was warm, you thought almost curiously.

Oh…

Looking back behind you, Caius stood in the doorway, smoking gun still in his hand. He looked almost pleased. 

“I knew you were a coward. I had planned on killing you anyway, but I wanted to see this look on your face first,” he said, wiping his blood splattered chin with the back of his hand. Gunshots and yells could still be heard from the room behind him.

You could only imagine how twisted your face looked. Caius, tentative ally and regular buyer for years. Figures he’d been harboring fantasies of killing you.

“I’ll let you bleed a little first,” he said almost nonchalantly, so undisturbed by his own malignity, “and then I’ll empty my cartridge in you.”

You barely managed a raspy, painful inhale of breath before something small flew past you. Not a moment later, Caius’s body jolted, his face screwing up in a spasm. He fell back with a dull thud to the ground. 

Your knees buckled a split second later and you fell down to your side and clutched your stomach. In a fading, slowing motion, you registered the gold and red metal suit of Iron Man flying over you, followed by Iron Patriot. 

The Avengers…

Oh well, looks like Caius wouldn’t be roaming the streets much longer. Neither would you. You were toast.  

Steve Rogers’s face flashed before you in your mind. God, why hadn’t you fucked him last time, pinned by him against the curtained wall of the alcove? He’d been right there, smiling and rock hard, pressed up against your most intimate place, your legs wrapped around him, clutching him against you like you could possess him, if only for a moment. Why hadn’t you just taken that for yourself? Why hadn’t you, for once in your life, taken that moment of happiness and pleasure and intimacy from a man who clearly wanted to give it to you? Share it with you…

Because this was all his fault, something bitter and cruel sniped in your mind. If he hadn’t insisted on getting so close, if he hadn’t insisted on digging in your business and effectively labeled you a snitch. If he hadn’t strangled your business opportunities and made you desperate, made you weak in the eyes of your peers. Easily exploited. A target. 

I can help you if you’re in trouble

What’s wrong?

Let me help you

Little fox

His words, at the time so easily dismissed by you, taunted you as you lay bleeding out. It was no use dwelling on it now, you told yourself. No use giving way to silly dreams of prince charming coming to save you. You weren’t some maiden in a tower. You were nobody. A speck of dirt under life’s shoe. And this was the fitting end you’d had coming all along.

The blood was still coming hot against your palm, but the rest of your body started to feel cold. 

Everything had gone quiet no, the blaring noise of gunshots having died down while you lay prone.

You saw Black Widow, silent as the grave and elegant as a cat stepping into view. She followed the others into the room where the negotiations had taken place, stepping first over your prone form before Caius’ in front of you. But just as she stood in the doorway, Caius moved on the floor, reaching a shaky hand with his gun to point at her. 

No!

Some hereto unknown reserve of energy had you reaching out. There was a gun from another hostile slung just an arms length away from you. You had to reach it. 

A memory flashed. In that casino in Bangkok, months ago, you had done nothing as Black Widow had been ambushed in the dark of the backrooms. Had just sat in the shadows and pretended not to exist while she took them out. You realized with an almost embarrassing start that you regretted that. Had regretted that for a long time. Not doing anything to aid her before the rest of her team had come to back her up.

Jealousy burned in your eyes as you lingered on that thought. To have a team. Partners. People you could trust. Who had your back, who you could protect in turn. Wouldn’t that be something?

You hadn’t helped Back Widow last time, but you would now. As a last fuck you to this whole fucking situation. 

You flung your arm out, grabbed the gun, and just as Caius had his hand stretched, gun pointed to the redhead’s back, you pulled the trigger, right at his head. The back of his skull exploded, and he instantly slumped. 

Black Widow turned abruptly towards the sound, and her eyes lit up with recognition as they landed on you. 

“Steve,” she said, eyes flitting up to something behind you. 

His name sounded rather good being said out loud. You were glad you got to hear it one last time. Your vision went in and out of focus, your breath raspy and thin in your own ears.

The energy that had surged a moment prior fizzled out, and you felt calm now…so calm. 

And then warm, gentle hands cradled your head and body, turning you to look up as the gun slid from your limp hand. 

Steve Rogers' face was above you, wrought in concern. Concern for you. You would never admit to how good it felt to see it there now, when you had to vehemently refused it before. It was almost poetic how he would be there in the end, like some cosmic compensation. 

If you couldn’t be the maiden in the tower being saved, you could be the tragic heroine dying in the arms of the only man who cared for her. 

How silly you were for thinking like this, you reprimanded yourself silently as you watched Steve fret about to locate your wound and put a broad hand on it, adding pressure as he barked some order or other to someone else. The pain was a sting, but otherwise, you felt nothing. Only numbness in your limbs, a tingling akin to what you would feel when your leg fell asleep. Not entirely unpleasant. 

Who would’ve thought you had so many emotions in you. So many wishes, so many laments. You suspected it all came in the package of dying. You took this golden opportunity to study his face for the last time. His strong brow bone with the gentle, blond brow hairs. His long eyelashes, the flecks of green in his otherwise perfectly blue eyes. The small freckles scattered sporadically on his cheekbones and jaw. Had he been in the sun recently? His pointed, straight nose, nostrils flaring. Was he panicking? It kinda looked like it, those eyes wide and wild, his forehead creased, but you couldn’t really focus long enough to discern. 

“Fox,” he called to you, and it sounded like it came from a mile away, carried to you like a kiss on the wind. 

Right. You’d never given him your name. How stupid of you, now he would never know, and you would never have the pleasure of hearing it from his lips. 

The edges of your sight turned blurry, and the last thing you saw was his mouth, opening on words you could no longer hear. 

[valpoupdates]

FEBRUARY CALENDAR POSTING...

So much to see, so much to do, so little time ! Lucky for you, here in the Valparaíso Region, we keep track of it just for you ! Unless stated otherwise, these activities are optional. Residents do not have to take part in these if they don't wish to ! These can be used for threads throughout the month but new threads can't be started for these activities once the month is up. Please track the valpocalendar tag to stay updated month to month ( ©️ )

Casablanca Activities:

February 3rd-4th: Aire Libre will be hosting two romance-a-thon nights, one in Spanish and one in English (with Spanish closed captioning).  There will be a Valentine’s Day themed snack box consisting of a metal heart popcorn bowl, pink popcorn, a variety of candy, and heart-shaped alfajores provided by Dulce Sueño’s Sweets and Treats.

February 3rd 5 PM: La vida de los peces: Andrés se reencuentra con su antiguo amor. 7 PM: Play: Dos personas buscan amor, pero nunca se encuentran. 10:00 PM: Los Fuertes: Lucas y Antonio empiezan un gran amor. February 4th 5 PM: Shrek: Un ogro y un burro tienen una aventura. 7 PM: Crazy Rich Asians: El novio de Rachel Chu, una profesora de economía, tiene un gran secreto. 10 PM: The Notebook: Duke lee una historia romántica a una paciente.

February 8th: Casablanca Blooms and Coffee will be hosting two Valentine’s Day-themed events: from 5 PM - 6 PM will be a bouquet-making class where you can create a beautiful bouquet for a loved one, and from 6 PM - 7 PM will be a coffee blending class where you can create your own sweet blend.

February 14th: Dulce Sueño’s Sweets and Treats is hosting a Valentine’s Day dessert decorating session from 12 PM - 2 PM.  Come decorate cookies, brownies, and mini-cakes; then take home your goodies and share them with your loved ones.

Quilpué Activities:

February 9th: Caos Tattoos is hosting the Anti-Romance Tattoo Sale.  There will be affordable flash sheets around themes of anti-love and heartbreak.

February 18th: The Annual Beastly Brunch is happening again at the Quilpué Zoo from 11 PM - 1 PM.  Feast on delicious bites and sip brunch cocktails while learning and celebrating the feathered friends you have in your own backyard!  Brunch will be served.

February 22nd: Plantas Altas is having their Customer Appreciation Day. Plants will be up to 40% off, and there will be complimentary food and a DJ.  First 40 customers get a free t-shirt or tote bag with the store logo.

Valparaíso Activities:

February 1st: A Santa Moneda resident has some dozen leftover tickets for Carnival in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and has offered to fly people out to Carnival for a small fee. Carnival takes place February 9th-17th, and it is one of the largest yearly festivals in Brazil that celebrates their history, culture, and traditions. The itinerary is already made, hotel rooms have been booked, and VIP events have been reserved; all you need to do is reach out to Santa Moneda Front Desk and we can get you in touch with the resident. Serious inquiries only!

February 10th: Parque Cultural de Valparaíso is hosting a Lunar New Year Festival from 12 PM - 9 PM, celebrating the Year of the Wood Dragon. There will be foods from many different countries that celebrate the holiday, including China, Singapore, South Korea, Vietnam, and Malaysia, stalls that sell clothes, art, and knick-knacks, lion dancing, and presentations and reading corners for people of all ages to learn more about the history, culture, and traditions behind the holiday from each country. The festival will close out with fireworks.

February 23rd: The Universidad de Bellas Artes Poets play against the Pontifical Catholic University Pumas at 6 PM. Come show your school spirit or come support your local fútbol team.

February 24th: Biblioteca Santiago Severín is hosting a community shred day from 8 AM - 8 PM. With a small donation, you can bring any personal papers and documents to be shredded.  Volunteers are still needed; if interested, please sign up on our website, <santiagoseverin.cl>. 

Viña del Mar Activities:

February 11th-24th: The Ballet de Valparaíso will be performing Cinderella at The Teatro Municipal. Come laugh, be surprised, and fall in love with a new interpretation of an age-old fairytale.

February 14th: There will be speed dating in the Jardín Botánico Nacional from 2 PM - 4 PM, with complimentary coffee provided by Combi Coffee. Casual attire; no sign ups necessary.

February 17th: There is free admission for all tours, all day, at Castillo Wulff. If you and your kids or friends are looking for a fun way to pass the time, come learn about the beautiful, historic castle overlooking the sea.

February 25th - March 1st: The Quinta Vergara Amphitheater is hosting the LXII Festival Internacional de la Canción de Viña. It is the oldest and largest music festival in Latin America; the 6-day festival is broadcasted on the radio, television, and online streaming platforms. This year’s headlines include Maná, Peso Pluma, Allison Mandel, Andrea Bocelli with special guest Matteo Bocelli, Maria Becerra, and more!

February 29th: The restaurant inside the Casino de Viña del Mar is a popular place for people to get proposed to, and on Leap Year, that popularity dramatically increases as women will propose to their significant others.  No one knows when this tradition started, but it’s been going on for years; the restaurant even has a special menu for this day. Come grab a table and watch some potential impromptu proposals! Who cares if the rumors say most of them are staged!

[fearofahumanplanet]

Your Favorite Villain

My book!

Warning: I am borderline, narcissistic, and schizophrenic. If you have a problem with people bearing those personality disorders (or histrionics!!) fuck off and work on yourself. Gods know you need it.

Anathema Morgan is an Irish-American trickster deity moonlighting as a writer of fiction when it isn't too busy saving the world from itself. It goes by the pronouns it/its and presents feminine. It is a mouthy sufferer of a mix of Cluster B personality disorders as a result of its DID, as well as chronic fatigue/pain, severe agoraphobia, complex PTSD and some other lovely conditions that have endlessly enriched its life. Having spent 23 years walking the world alone and 8 of those years writing, it seeks to make sure no one ever has to feel the way it did again without a supportive voice and its trademark brand of realistic optimism for the future.

While Ana Morgan gets bored easily and never tends to write anything remotely similar once a project is done, it can assure you that pretty much all of its work will bear some sort of psychological & body horror element, unforgettable characters & diverse cultures, an emotional cocktail that hits harder than moonshine, enough radical anarchist politics to make a dozen bigots combust with every copy of its work sold, and tales so realistic that most would deem them not safe for life.

When it's not busy terrorizing the tyrants of our world and standing with scapegoats with its weaponized words, Ana Morgan has a number of unhealthy special interests, ranging from horror movies, metal & punk music, first-person shooters & roguelikes, history & mythology, culture, graffiti art, motorcycles & skateboarding. Feel free to ask it anything - it only bites a little.

Work email for business inquiries: jane_doe379.official@protonmail.com

This blog contains NSFW (18+) content - I don't really impose any limits on my writing, and it is and has always been an outlet for my trauma! You have been warned.

THIS BLOG IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE A SAFE PLACE FOR ALL LGBT+ & QUEER PEOPLE, ALL CLUSTER B DISORDERS (INCLUDING NPD & ASPD), ALL DISABLED PEOPLE (PHYSICALLY OR MENTALLY), ANYONE OF ANY RACE & ETHNICITY, ETC. IF YOU'RE A BIGOT IN ANY REGARD, FUCK RIGHT OFF.