#and then decided it's even better is they're mutually toxic

[welcometogrouchland]

I broadly think the majority of content you find in "X critical" tags tends to be a bit. Uh. Garbage in terms of legit media criticism, but I cannot overstate their importance in terms of being easily filterable for people who actually like X, and idk if it's the recent migrations from other social media platforms or (more likely) if I'm just having an off week and reading into things too much but like. Can we keep it going/bring it back??? If I have to see one more post about how ppl hate a certain thing in that certain things tag (where fans congregate to find content of the thing), with no filterable critical tag. I might actually kill ppl

[written-in-flowers]

A Different World: Gwinam x Reader

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Plussize!fem!Reader

Genre: Smut. So much Smut. Minors DNI please

Word Count: 12k

Rating: M....very much M, explicit

Summary: Before the outbreak, you never thought you had a chance with Yoon Gwinam, and he thought the same about you. But, once you've both come into a new state of being, a "hambie", suddenly sexual fantasies don't stay fantasies.

Tags: Fat Shaming, Bullying, Toxic Friendships, Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Light Masochism, Spanking, Pulic Masturbation, Masturbation in bathroom, Mutual pining, blood and gore, blood kink, spit kink, rape fantasy, thigh worship, body worship, rough sex, rough oral sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, face slapping, facials, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), multiple positions, no breaks, they're both fucking pervs and so horny for each other, kind of a forbidden romance? well, until all their friends die anyways. ****

You fixed your shirt for the millionth time that morning. You hated how your stomach and chest lightly pushed on the clear buttons of your shirt; it made you look fatter tucked into your skirt. The skirt is a different breed of annoying. Your thick thighs used to chafe from rubbing together throughout the day. You usually pull on gym pants if it becomes too much, but deodorant sticks and your thigh high stockings make it easier to bear. Other girls can wear the pants without a word; you, the chubby one, can't. You hoped the shirt did not pop open from the stretch. The laundry schedule at home meant you'd have at least one day with the smaller school shirt. Fixing it again, you decided to button your blazer over it for now. When you get to class, you can unbutton it to breathe before doing it again.

"Stop doing that. You're going to make it worse," Hyejin said from beside you. "You should've gotten a larger size."

"The store didn't carry any more of it," you admitted quietly. "I need to go there later to see if they have them again."

Choi Hyejin, small and narrow, was one of the two people you're certain you hate. A petite, brown haired girl from an upper class family, she carried the haughty air and snotty opinions of the high society she came from. Had you two not grown up together, you're sure you'd be her favorite punching bag. But since your fathers worked together, and your mothers ran in the same social circles, she resorted to backhanded compliments like this.

"Or you can have it tailored like my brother did," said the girl on your left.

Slender and tall, Kim Soomin was part of the girl's volleyball team and well liked in the athletic scene. Her black hair tied back in a long plait, she wore her volleyball jacket over her uniform, which made her look broader but slimmer at the same time. Another girl from an affluent family, you and her became close on your first day of primary school. That is where your trio-friendship forged, and where it would remain until the end of time. Soomin didn't discourage you like Hyejin did, but you knew why she hung out with you. It's the same reason they both did:

They look hotter when compared to you. Because even with Hyejin's hooked nose and Soomin's height, at least they're not fat.

"I suppose, but my mom might say no," you told her, holding your books to your chest. "She'll just tell me to lose weight."

"Then why don't you? It'd be better for your health, if anything. It can’t be that hard.”

The false concern for your health stabbed another hole in you. Hyejin and Soomin might not be ideal friends, but it was certainly better than having none. With at least these two, you avoided the cruel, harsh bullying you often witnessed happen to others. If Choi Hyejin and Kim Soomin liked you, then you must be cool. However, the trade off is the occasional 'you're fat and that's why your life sucks' discussion. You knew they didn’t actually care if you lost any weight. The longer you remained fat, the better they’d continue to look in comparison. In your mind’s eye, you saw all the boys who flirted with Hyejin at school. They ignored you completely. Not that you cared. Only one boy in Hyoson High School caught your attention, and he’d never notice you. Not in a million years.

"You can always come to the school gym with me!” said Soomin. “I don't mind having a partner and the coach won't say anything about it."

"No thanks. I hate gyms. I always feel people are watching me."

"Nobody watches you, YN," Hyejin scoffed. "They don't care as much as you think they do."

You wanted to tell her that a fat girl in a gym often attracted some kind of torment, but the words caught in your throat. Looking up the path leading into school, you spotted him. Yoon Gwinam. A tall boy with black hair that reached his neck, he wore the school shirt open with a black sweater underneath, likely to fight off the chill. Long limbs made him look longer and broader. You often imagined him completely encapsulating you in a hug, your head on his shoulder and hearing his heart beating. Your heart fluttered seeing him standing in the distance with his friends. He stood, chuckling and smiling when one of them made a joke. You wished it was you making him smile like that. You’d do anything to see it up close. Gwinam is a tough guy; you’ve seen him beat up people with little effort. The sort of guy who’d protect you and care for you above everyone else; the guy whose heart would only melt for you. No guy you’d managed to date treated you the way you wanted.

“-We did it by that old railroad track outside the train stations,” Hyejin’s story broke into your thoughts as you walked. Your eyes kept focusing on Gwinam, leaning against a building near the school. Absent-mindedly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, thinking it made you more attractive. “I love it when they groan. It’s super hot when a guy is vocal.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Soomin laughed. “Especially since he’s dating Aro.”

“Aro should take better care of her man then, if you know what I mean.”

You tuned out Hyejin’s recount, and thought of saying something Gwinam as you walked by. ‘Hey Gwinam’. ‘Morning Gwinam’. ‘Gwinam, please rip off my panties, and fuck me hard.’ No, the last one is a bit too much. Besides, if Soomin and Hyejin saw you talking to him, they’d ask why you did. His reputation around school wasn’t very good; he hung around with bullies who picked on people weaker than them. Yet, it was this bad reputation that made you want him more. You didn’t want to “fix” him. You wanted him as he was, meanness and all. You couldn’t really explain it. Something about him attracted you, and they wouldn’t understand.

“Are you still talking to him?” asked Soomin, amused. “Or have you already thrown him away?”

“Nah, we’re still talking,” she said. Of course they were. You knew Hyejin would eventually forget about her newest conquest and move onto someone else. “He said he can’t get enough of me.”

“Oh my god, you’re so bad.”

The thought of Gwinam only wanting sex from you crossed your mind. It was why most guys approached you: they thought heavy girls are desperate and will sleep with them for crumbs of affection. Normally you reject these guys, since high school boys like to brag. Yet, if Gwinam ever showed interest, you’d crumble immediately. If you put out for any guy in school, it’d be him. Deep down, you sensed he enjoyed the kind of sex you did…At least, in your fantasies he did.

“You know, YN, he’s got a pretty cute friend,” she told you. “I mean, he’s not Namjoon hot, but he’s okay looking. He’s definitely your type. I could set you up-YN? Are you listening?”

“Huh? What?”

Hyejin looked between you and where Gwinam stood and let out a soft laugh. “Oh my god, no way,” she teased, “You’re actually checking out Yoon Gwinam?”

“What?! No,” you defended instantly. “I wasn’t looking at him at all.”

“He’s a jerk, YN,” said Soomin. “He’s a bully. How could you like a guy that bullies people?”

“He’s also a total idiot,” added Hyejin.

“I wasn’t looking at him,” you repeated firmly, heat rising in your cheeks. “He’s just…He’s in my eyeline, that’s all.”

“He’s not even a cute bully,” said Soomin. “You know, like the guys in the dramas. He’s ugly. He’s got a weird face shape.”

You wanted to hit her. Gwinam is by no means ugly. You liked his face, his body, his hair, and everything else. In your daydreams, he liked your body too. He’d spend ages telling you how beautiful he thinks you are, and how much you turn him on.

“Not to mention that ugly haircut,” Hyejin scoffed. “Besides, I wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he’d be into you.”

“Hyejin,” Soomin said carefully. “Don’t be so mean.”

“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest,” she retorted. “Guys like him are total assholes. He’d probably laugh at you and walk away if you confessed.”

“I won’t confess because there’s nothing to confess.”

It pained you to admit it, but Hyejin was right. Gwinam would never like a girl like you. You looked at him one more time as you came closer. He didn't even look your way. Why should he? There’s nothing special about you. Guys never looked at you; why should he be any different? You walked past his group, and your eyes met him for a split second. You quickly turned away before he noticed you. It made your cheeks burn more, simply having him acknowledge you for a second even if he thought nothing of you.

“Ugh, so gross,” Soomin huffed.

“The dude’s a walking red flag. You should like someone else,” Hyejin smiled slowly, “Like Lee Suhyeok. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Yes, Suhyeok was the handsome, friendly guy any sane girl would like. Yet, you didn’t. You found it difficult when you compared him to Gwinam, who checked all your boxes. Your fondness for bad boys will eventually come back to bite you, you know. It was best for everyone if you kept it to yourself.

“Gosh, I’d kill to get a slice of him,” Hyejin sighed.

“But he’s not into you,” you said to her. A little dig into her made you feel good. “He likes someone else, I heard.”

“That’s because he hasn’t gotten with me yet,” she replied with a sly smile.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to get with you because you fuck any guy who gives you attention,” you heard yourself say to her. You instantly gasped and Soomin laughed out loud. “Oh, um, well, I mean maybe-”

“-Maybe ‘what’? At least guys actually look at me, unlike you. Namjoon told me he and his friends have a bet going, you know,” she spat back. “Yeah, to see who could bag The Pig. He told me to introduce you to his friend, since he said if he wins, he’d split the money with us. Want to know what I said? I said ‘no’ because I’m a good friend.”

“What?” Your throat dried up at that confession. It was always your worst fear: a guy showing interest as a dare from his friends. “So, you were going to set me up with someone who means to play a prank on me?”

“Oh, come on, like you’re that dumb. I told him you wouldn’t fall for it. He’d have to try really hard since you always get all weird when you like a guy.”

“But you still knew,” you stopped walking, and gripped your books tightly. “You were still going to go through with it just so some asshole keeps liking you.”

You wanted to hit her. You wanted to call her every name in the book, and smack her until you drew blood. She thought herself so above you and Soomin. You pictured yourself literally knocking her down a size. Your nails dug into the soft cover of your textbooks, so tight your knuckles burned. Images of you sitting in a restaurant, waiting on a guy who might never come, tightened your chest. You hated her.

“I was going to tell you,” she said, “Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’ll go through with it. You chicken out every time a guy comes onto you. I told you about it just now, didn’t I? See, I’m a good friend to you and you say mean things to me. I was only looking out for you.”

She turned on her heel and continued walking. Soomin stayed behind for a moment, seeing your eyes glare at Hyejin’s back. “YN?” she came to you cautiously, “YN, we gotta go to class.”

Why were you friends with her? Why were you friends with either of them? You knew why. Because it was better to be friends with them, taking the licks, than not having friends at all.

“YN-”

“-Fuck off,” you hissed at her before leaving her side.

You blinked back the tears building up in her eyes. Going into the school with teary eyes might attract more attention than you’d like. Crying in front of people showed weakness. You couldn’t let people know you’re weak because then you’d become a target too. Walking away from the school pathway, you ended up in the construction site beside the main building. You aren’t sure what the school planned to make the building, but that didn’t matter to you. The half finished, concrete building remained abandoned during the day time. Nobody will hear you crying. You walked until the sounds of the other students faded into nothingness.

You’re a joke to them. You’re the dumb, ugly fat friend who they can look at when they feel bad about themselves. Every rude word, every mean comment from everyone in your life came rushing back to you. Your mother scolded you for eating more than you should. Your father said he was glad because then he didn’t have to worry about boys coming to his door. Hyejin liked pointing out the flaws in your outfits and Soomin constantly offered unsolicited health advice. You doubted this “friend” of Namjoon’s would actually like you. Not even the boys you’d gone out with before liked you. They always shift uncomfortably or tell you to keep it a secret. God forbid their friends should find out they liked the fat girl.

You collapsed against a bare, concrete wall and looked outside a window frame. Fresh air blew past the window, only just brushing the window sill you leaned against. You forced yourself to enjoy the free air to drown out the pain festering inside you. Visions of beating every single person in your life passed like a movie reel. You briefly imagined Hyejin getting into an accident that disfigures her pretty face forever; you pictured your mother finally dying and being free of her hateful words. Why couldn’t people just let you live?

As you stood there thinking, your favorite daydream came back. Gwinam is your boyfriend, and he hears what Hyejin said to you and what Namjoon’s friends planned to do, and beats them all up for you. In this daydream, you have a protector who adores you; who loves you as you are. A Gwinam who’d burn down the world for you; who’d bring ultimate pain to anyone who hurt you. You knew this Gwinam did not exist, but you comforted yourself with the fantasy anyways. Wiping your eyes, hoping the redness won’t be noticeable, sudden footsteps from the next room made you jump. You listened closely and realized it was multiple people.

“I told you to have the money with you.”

The familiar voice of Gwinam sent shivers down your body. You didn’t know who he’d come with, but you guessed it was his gang of bullies. Visions of what they might do if they caught you in the building, weeping and weak, and you pressed yourself against the wall. You could stay there until they left, or maybe you could sneak out through the window. But, the temptation guided you to the nearby hole in the wall meant to be a doorway. You rarely get a chance to watch Gwinam undisturbed this way. Usually, you’re with one of your friends or in a crowded room, and someone might see you. These moments didn’t come very often, so you seized it. Quietly, you walked to the door nearby and peeked one eye into the main room.

There he was, standing a few feet from a short, skinny boy. You immediately recognized the boy as Park Jisung, a boy from your homeroom. Jisung cowered away from Gwinam, who had him cornered in the empty room. Gwinam looked at Jisung the way a cat looked at a mouse. Your eyes scanned over his long frame; you pictured him standing front of you with the same stare. If you wanted anyone to bully you, it’d be Gwinam.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Gwinam,” Jisung gave a bow, shaking and nervous. “I’ll bri-bring it tomorrow.”

“But I need it today,” he said. He sighed, “Guys like you really fucking piss me off.”

‘Yes. Yes, get pissed off. Make him regret it,’ your darkest fantasies screamed. You pushed yourself against the wall, heat starting to flare up in your body despite the cold wall. ‘Hit him. Hurt him. Hit me. Hurt me.’

“I’m sorry, Gwinam! If you give me a little bit of time, I’ll get you the money. I promise. My parents didn’t have any to-”

“-I don’t care,” he said. “Fucking asshole.”

You flinched as Gwinam’s hand slapped Jisung across the face. Jisung stumbled to the side. Psh, weakling. He didn’t even hit that hard. You looked at Gwinam’s face, anger rising in him as he smacked Jisung around more. If only he did that to you. You clenched your thighs together watching him swing his long arms in each slap. Once Jisung hit the ground, Gwinam’s kicks began harsher and deeper. He looked so hot. Being angry or scared brought out a person’s true nature; Gwinam liked hurting people, and you liked watching him hurt people. You liked how Gwinam threw Jisung around like a rag doll, smacking and kicking him. You thought of him doing the same to you. Guys like Gwinam made you feel small and weak, despite your heaviness. You bit your lower lip thinking of those hands pinning you to the ground, leaving bruises around them for later. He’d throw you on the ground, tear open your shirt to bite and slap your tits before fucking you. No foreplay. No gentleness or kindness. You’d be wet from his ferocity alone.

“Piece of shit,” Gwinam growled.

“What a loser,” you heard one of his friends laugh.

Your body slowly began grinding into the side of the doorway. Nobody would see you in the dimness, surely. They’re preoccupied with Jisung, who wept and begged them to stop. Your pussy pulsed watching Gwinam kick and stomp on him. You stuck your hand underneath your skirt, carefully running your fingers over your sex. It’d have to be quick, but watching Gwinam in the flesh this way made you wetter. Tightness built between your thighs, that familiar arousal burning as your fingers trailed over your slit. The chilling wall caused your nipples to harden, and you thought of Gwinam’s mouth on them. He’d bite and suck as his cock grinded into your pussy. You’d grip his shoulders and arms, nails clawing his flesh as he teased you.

You’d let him take you however he wished. You’d be his personal fuck toy; a thing only made to pleasure him.

“Psh, pathetic motherfucker,” Gwinam spat at Jisung. He crouched down and lifted his head by the hair.

You bit down on your lip as you circled your clit. His tongue swirls around it greedily, gripping your thighs hard and growling from the taste. He stood Jisung up to his feet. He’d do the same to you. He’d laugh at you for getting so wet so easily; he’d call you a whore, smack you one more time, before continuing the sexual torture. Maybe he’d do what he did to Min Eunji once. He’d grab a marker and write filthy words on your body, on your clothes, so people knew you belonged to him. Screw what your friends thought. This is your fantasy, not theirs. Your lips grew wetter, and you pushed your panties aside. You started rubbing yourself quicker. A slew of dirty thoughts came as Jisung groaned, and coughed.

Gwinam spanking your ass until it becomes tender and hot.

Gwinam spitting in your mouth, then calling you a filthy bitch for doing it.

Gwinam tying you to his bed at home and leaving you there for whenever he gets horny.

The climax hits you hard with the usual scene: Gwinam chasing you through a forest, feral and high on adrenaline, until he gets his hands on you. You rode it out on your hand as you pictured him fucking you like an animal. His teeth gritted, his muscles tense and tight, and his cock shooting cum over your face and breasts. It’d hurt, but you’d love that. Your juices coated your fingers, and you shivered as you came down into your post-orgasm glow. Gwinam finished beating up Jisung, who tearfully ran away when Gwinam and his friends let him go. Panting, running his hands through his hair, Gwinam stood there a moment while his friends left the building. You continued circling your sensitive nub, wishing you could go for a second time. The bold fantasy of you offering yourself to him right then crossed your mind, but no, you’d never do that. Then, the unthinkable happened.

Gwinam saw you. He’d turned his head casually; you supposed he’d done it to check if anyone had seen him, and spotted you in the other room. You froze in place, quickly withdrawing your hand from your panties. Due to the angle, Gwinam didn’t see your lower half, but him having seen you was enough. Dark eyes swept down the parts of your body he could see. What if he suspected what you’d done? What if he’d heard you and purposefully prolonged the beatdown? You gasped and whipped your body around out of sight. You worried he might confront you. You held back a whimper imagining him coming over to you, sticking his hands in your panties, and telling you how naughty you’ve been.

‘Insatiable slut. You can’t even wait until we’re alone to touch yourself for me. Do it again. Now.’

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You heard Gwinam’s friend call out to him, and you heard him leave. In reality, he’d never want to touch you. He’ll no doubt go to his friends and tell them what he suspected. They’ll taunt and tease you forever about it. Soomin and Hyejin would be disgusted with you, because even if you disliked them, they’re all you have. On wobbly legs, you picked up your things and left the construction site.

Your fantasies will always be exactly that. Fantasies. Nothing more.

How did you do it? How did you catch his attention when nothing else does? How do you make this entire world slow down when you walk past him? Any time Gwinam saw you, he swore everything around him stopped for you. Most girls at school didn’t have that effect on him. They were too skinny or too annoying. Gwinam liked girls with soft curves that made him drool. You are such a girl. The briefest of glances from you haunt him throughout the rest of the day. That small twinkle of acknowledgement sent him into a stunned silence for several seconds, if not minutes. So, to see you in that half-finished building, breathless and clutching the wall, inspired a fresh series of fantasies. He thought of going up to you in that building, pulling down your panties and shoving himself inside you. You’d stay up against that wall, shirt open and tits bouncing, as he pumped his cum into you. He loved your tits. And your thighs. He liked peeking at them during class. The desk always stopped just underneath them so he had a nice view. Lord knows what he’d do if you sat beside him. He’d leave class with wet fingers every day.

But, sadly, those dirty thoughts would never come to be. A smart, clever girl who always did well would never want an idiot like him. Girls like you wanted handsome, smart guys like Suhyeok. Gwinam is forced to live with thoughts of you in his arms in his dreams. You must be so soft. You always smell nice too. He’s noticed it before; it’s a flowery perfume that drew him to you. He thought of your laugh as he walked towards school with Myunghwa and the others. He wished he could be the one making you laugh. Visions of kissing you, walking hand-in-hand with you, and being with you clouded his mind. He’d be good to you. Gwinam wasn’t kind very often, but he’d treat you so well. He’d give you anything you wanted; do anything you asked of him.

He’d hurt someone for you, if you wished it.

The group entered the school before classes began, and Gwinam caught sight of you rushing past them. A hint of floral perfume hit his nose, causing him to breathe it deeply. He noticed you heading towards the bathrooms. He smirked. You must’ve made such a mess. Too bad he isn’t there to lick you clean. He shook the image of your soaked pussy from his head when Myunghwa smacked the nape of his neck.

“-Are you listening to me?” the short boy asked him irritably.

“Huh? Yeah, I was.”

Myunghwa scoffed disbelievingly. “Fucking idiot,” he said, “You never pay attention.”

“He was checking out Park YN,” Changhoon, another part of their group, smirked. “I can’t believe you like that fattie. She’s not even pretty in the face.”

“I wasn’t checking her out,” Gwinam said defensively. “I wouldn’t touch her even if she was the last girl on earth.” He considered the feeling might be mutual. You’d never truly like him. If you were doing what he thought, it must’ve been for someone else. The idea alone boiled his blood. “She’s ugly.”

No, you’re not. You’re beautiful. So beautiful. He thought of the other day when he saw you in the library. You often go there during lunch to catch up on homework or to read quietly. You liked reading, he noticed. You’d sat beside a window, and he admired how the sun caught in your hair, illuminating your face. He put the image to memory for those tough nights at home. Whenever his dad called him useless or his mom shook her head in disappointment, he pictured you in that chair. You’d lift your head, smile, and tell him he’s not a waste of space. You’d encourage and lift his spirits up…and he’d kiss you. He thought of your lips and the cherry lip balm he spotted in your bag. They must taste so good.

And he’d never have them. He’d never have you. He’s not supposed to like girls like you. He’s supposed to like skinny, pretty girls like your friends. Yet, those girls didn’t excite him like you did.

Myunghwa went on with some story about how someone mentioned his name in Jinsu’s disappearance. The police went to his house to question him. Gwinam wanted to tell him they’d done the same to him and the others. It’s not their fault Jinsu made it so easy for them; he never fought back until that night. Gwinam recalled the way his body hit the sign, hit a balcony, before finally crashing into the alleyway. He’d never seen a dead person before. He’d been sure that the police might arrest him. They could’ve found fingerprints on Jinsu’s skin or caught him on camera somehow. Yet, they’d done the opposite. They believed the story of them having been out in the street and nowhere near Jinsu’s last location.

Gwinam walked into class on his own, and spotted you in your usual seat next to him. You shared a desk space with your friend, Soomin, but his desk was across the aisle. He bit the inside of his lip seeing you crossed your legs under your desk. A small peek of your thigh high stocking stirred more dirty images in his mind. He liked how a bit of pudge went over the stocking bands; if he ever got his hands on those thighs, he’d lose his mind. He took his seat nearby and did his best to not look at you. He thought about the construction site again, picturing you fingering yourself to him and cumming hard on your pretty fingers. He shifted his gaze slightly to see your chest exactly where he knew it’d be. The combined picture of your thighs and your breasts caused him to swallow thickly and look elsewhere. He’d die of embarrassment if he got a hardon in class, but how could he ignore such a sensual sight?

As Mr. Lee, their science teacher, began class when Gwinam noticed you starting to pull off your blazer. Logic and reason said you must be hot, considering you’re sitting near the windows. But his horny, perverted mind said you were taking it off for him. You wore a tight shirt today, so it showed off the curves of your bosom and tummy. His jaw dropped when he spotted a white strap through the fabric. Your bra, he hoped. He quickly thought of you in his lap, wearing nothing but your skirt and stockings. No bra. No panties.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dared a chance to look at it. A message from Myunghwa.

‘Wow, you got it bad for her, huh? Bet she’d crush you if she got on top.’

He clenched his jaw and put the phone away. Whenever he felt a new fantasy coming on, his friends ruined it for him. He wished he could sit closer. He wished he could talk to you, and only you. You’re so smart. You answer Mr. Lee’s questions without hesitation and so eloquently. Your friends might be pretty, but they’re complete airheads. You’re the intelligent one. The intelligent one with pretty lips and eyes that made him melt.

Gwinam went through absolute torture during class. Not even amusing himself by bullying Eunji distracted him. Seeing the buttons between your tits stretch from the size, he knew he’d have plenty of jerk-off scenarios tonight.

‘Gwinam? Could you help me with my shirt? It’s so tight and uncomfortable. Please, take it off me.’

He squeezed his eyes tightly and bit his tongue as the signal for lunch rang through the school.

‘The cold’s making my nipples hard. Would you warm them with your mouth? They’re so hard and my hands aren’t as warm as your tongue.’

Fucking hell. Gwinam stood up from his desk before you did, and decided a walk to the cafeteria might clear his head.

‘Oh, Gwinam, your cock’s so big-’

Fuck. No.

‘-Put it between my tits, and fuck them. I want to make you cum using my soft, huge tits.’

He pushed into a bathroom stall, locked the door and started unbuckling his pants.

‘God, they just swallow your dick. I can’t wait for you to cum all over them. I love cum. I want you to cum on me. Please, Gwinam, cover me in your yummy cum.’

His dick throbbed in his hand in every stroke. His eyes closed and he thought about you in the construction building. He thought of catching you touching yourself, and taking advantage of your vulnerable position. Gwinam pictured himself tearing off your clothes, exposing your luscious body, and tasting every inch of you. You’d struggle at first, pleading and whimpering for him to stop, but you’d soon give into him. Gwinam focused on the image of you riding him to climax. Your tight walls clenched hard around him as he rubbed his thumb over your clit; your breasts bouncing in his face until he suckled on one of them. The thought made him cum within minutes. That’s what you did to him. He wished you didn’t have such a fierce hold on him. He wished he didn’t desire you so much, but he couldn’t help it. He’d become completely blind to any other woman he met. He only wanted you.

Coming down from his orgasm, he cleaned himself up and decided to head to the cafeteria. He felt refreshed having gotten you out of his system. He wondered if he might see you there or if you’d go to the library again today. He didn’t care which one. He’d have to keep his leering to a minimum now that Myunghwa saw him looking at you. He came up with explanations to why he’d been looking your way, but none of them sounded convincing. When he entered the cafeteria, he did see you there. You stood in line with Soomin. You’d put your blazer back on, which dampened his spirits a bit. But then again, it might be good for him. He’d only just finished rubbing one out to you. He can’t do it twice in such a short amount of time.

He got into the line two people behind you, and looked at his phone instead. Myunghwa and Changsoon taunted him over what they’d seen in class. They made fun of you, talking about how your buttons must be holding on for dear life or telling him to be careful as you might break his bed getting into it. He wanted to kill them. He didn’t care if they talked badly about other girls; he didn’t want them talking badly about you. But, rather than tell them off, he joined in the conversation.

‘Kekeke, she probably jiggles around like jello.’

This amused them. Yet, he looked at you as the line moved. You styled your hair differently. Usually, you wore it tied back from your face, but today it flowed freely around your face. Gwinam did not have a particularly favorite look; he loved anything you wore or did to yourself. He watched you chat with Soomin. By your annoyed gaze and clenched jaw, he assumed you’re arguing quietly. No doubt your “friend” Choi Hyejin said something to upset you, and Soomin defended her. He often overheard you three talking at lunch or in class. He liked the sound of your voice, so sue him. Hyejin in particular liked putting you down, and you let her. Just like how he let Myunghwa talk down to him.

He shoved the person in front of him out of the way, stepping to them when they protested until they backed off.

“-She didn’t mean anything by it. She only meant that you’re not that good with guys, so she was trying to help,” Soomin said to you as you started down the line. “She didn’t know Namjoon planned anything until he said it.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh, YN, you know Hyejin cares about you. I do too.”

“Okay.”

You shut down. Whatever Soomin said to you left you defeated. He thought of pushing Soomin aside and holding you close. Whatever prank or mean thing Hyejin said to you would be smothered away by his kisses. He grabbed a tray, and began going down the line with you. Seeing your cold stare, and how you avoided Soomin’s gaze, you’d gotten locked inside your head. It happened to him a lot too. Whenever Myunghwa insulted or hit him, or whenever his father called him a worthless piece of shit, he’d sink into the dark, lonely place in his mind. If only he could pull you from it, then you would never feel pain again. Soomin must’ve given up trying to reach you, because then she scoffed and walked away to sit down. This left a gap between you and him. He thought about what he’d just done in the bathroom, and wished he’d taken you with him. As you reached the end of the line, the both of you reached for a pair of utensils at the same time.

“Oh, sorry,” you said timidly. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay,” he said, picking up one of the wrapped pairs to hand to you, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

Oh, your eyes. He never gave them enough appreciation. So much innocence and sweetness shined from them, yet they hid something much darker within. He could tell. He wanted to say more, but what? Rarely did he get this close to you. He was always worried someone might see and make fun of him for it. But, there’s nobody who matters around him. He saw you turn away from him shamefully. No doubt you’re remembering what happened on the construction site. When he did not look away from you, you squeaked out:

“I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I promise.”

Did you think he’d hurt you? “Good,” he said, bending down to your ear, “I won’t tell anyone what I saw either. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

What in the hell was he doing? Trying to scare you away? He mentally kicked himself when he spotted your widening eyes. He watched you scurry away from him like a mouse, and it left him disheartened. He couldn’t help himself, could he? What did he think you’d say to that? Gwinam bit his tongue again, then went to sit with the gang. He forced himself not to look at you. Looking at you in front of the guys meant more teasing. He only liked one kind of teasing, and it was the teasing he got from you.

You woke up with a gasp. Your heart hammered in your ears, and suddenly you croaked in pain. You felt as if someone dislodged your bones, then put them back into place. Heat burned behind your eyes, and briefly you smelled blood all around you. Hunger. A distinct hunger rumbled in your body, but something inside you fought it back. Your mind went back and forth between this limbo of cravings and denials before you paused all together. You blinked your eyes a few times as your vision cleared.

It took several moments for you to register that you were soaked to the bones on the cafeteria floor. All around you, you hear gargled snarling and sharp hissing sounds. You heard feet shuffling or skidding across the floor; the cracking of bones made you flinch every time it sounded in the room. You kept your eyes closed, hoping if you open them, you’ll be back home in your bed. But, no you weren’t. You knew you weren’t.

Sitting up, you felt a distinct soreness in your neck, shoulder, stomach and arm. You looked down at your shaking hands to see them stained with blood. You found more of it on your uniform and stockings. You took deep breaths as you spotted the deep, crimson stain on your left forearm. Gingerly, you pulled up your sleeve to see a bite mark deep in your flesh. It looks fresh, as if it’d never healed. But, when you touched it, you felt no pain. The same was said for the scratches and bites on your stomach, the injuries having slashed through your shirt. You pressed down on the mark on your neck, only to hear the squishing of severed flesh. Curious, you poked your pinky into a hole in your neck, feeling no pain whatsoever. How could this be?

“Am I dead?”

You stared around the empty cafeteria. The people who’d been there had not escaped. The blood stains on the walls, windows, floors and tables told you as much. The creatures who’d once been classmates must’ve attacked the others, turning them into beasts as well. But, why had that not happened to you? You jumped suddenly when the gnashing, guttural sounds came from behind you. Your eyes widened in shock. Hyejin. At least, what was left of her. Hyejin, once dainty and posh, now cracked her neck this way and that as she snapped her jaws like a turtle. You saw her front covered in blood, more of it smeared around her mouth and on her hands. Blood red eyes instantly locked with yours. You let out a scream as she rushed towards you, hands outstretched and clawing for you. You shielded yourself in a fetal position, ready to be devoured by her, before you realized she wasn’t touching you. Hyejin, reeking of rotting flesh, only hunched a few inches from you. You heard her sniffing the air around her. She moved her head side to side, still biting and growling as drool came from her yellowed teeth. But, she did not touch you.

Soon, Hyejin backed away. She jolted upright, and began moving from you to the center of the room. You realized she was not the only one in the room. Other students who’d sat in the cafeteria now jerked and stumbled around. You stood up, almost slipping on the wet floors, and waited for one of them to notice you. But, none of them did. They should be charging at you; they should be ripping and tearing at your body, but they did not. To them, you’re not there. Touching your wounded neck again, you realized something: You’d become one of them. That is why they did not attack you as you walked out of the cafeteria.

Nor when you reached the pathways outside school. All around you, students walked around, sniffing and searching for more human meat. None of them bothered you unless you bothered them first. Even then, they only snapped their teeth at you before moving away. It felt surreal. An ignorant person might believe they’re in a dream, but you knew better. Whatever happened here has led to hundreds of students being infected with a mind altering disease. You wondered what could’ve caused this as you walked around the school. Biochemical warfare? Chemical lab experiment gone wrong? You couldn’t think of anything else. You could only focus on trying not to attract any of the zombies around you.

It all came back to you as you walked. One minute, you’d been apologizing to Hyejin for what you’d said about her, and the next a rush of students flooded the room. You’d been the first to stand from your seat. You remembered students screaming with terror as they ran through the cafeteria. You remembered seeing the things chasing them: other students, all of them red-eyed and feral. They screeched and growled hysterically, as if possessed by demons. But, that’s childish; this was something worse. You’d grabbed your bag once you saw an infected student tackle a girl by the wall and instantly bite into her throat. Soomin, the athlete, managed to get to a back door before either you or Hyejin. Some friends. It truly became every man for himself. Hyejin had screamed in absolute terror when one zombie, a large boy, blundered after her. You remember being a few steps ahead of her by then. You’d reached for the kitchen doors when a hand yanked your head back.

Hyejin used you as a means of escape. You’d slipped and tripped over the floors as the sprinkles above went off, causing it to rain inside the cafeteria. The large zombie grabbed hold of you, but you’d managed to fight him off. Another zombie, a girl with short hair, launched at you. That’s how your arm was bitten. But, you hadn’t stayed under her for long, since you threw her off you. You’d gotten up a second time where you watched Hyejin running through the kitchen to the back doors. Seeing it up ahead, you knew instinctively she’d close the door on you if she reached it. You recall leaping. You never leapt before, but you leapt towards Hyejin. Your hands found her long dark hair, fisted it tightly, and dragged her from the door. She fell to the ground with a painful groan. By the back door, you saw the two zombies attack her. You sidestepped another zombie when you realized the back door was locked. Running into the main kitchen, you dodged zombies and screamed when one of them lurched for you. Due to the slippery floor and chaos of humans and zombies, you’d fallen face forward. All air knocked out of you, you scrambled up before a zombie caught you.

That’s when more of them came. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you thought of the stink of death and harsh pain of teeth breaking skin. You’d howled from the nails digging into your skin, and the number of zombies all vying for a piece of you. Kicking and screaming, you eventually caved when one of them sunk his teeth into your neck, the one that was most obvious to you. You touched it again, walking back into the school to the library, your sanctuary. You didn’t find anyone there. It appeared whatever zombies were here had left.

Empty. That is what the world became: empty. Yet, it didn’t feel like it to you. You heard the sounds of zombies groaning outside perfectly. You could smell the paper of the books underneath the foul odor of blood and corpses. Tapping a table, the sound was louder to you. Your ears became sensitive to any sound you made after. You guessed the other zombies, mindless and aimless, reacted to noise as well. Grabbing a book, you opened the window to test your theory. You saw several zombies walking around the fields outside. You launched the book out the window, watching it fall and crash onto the ground. The small slap alerted every zombie within a twenty foot radius. They clambered over to the sound, but growled their discontent when they only smelled more dead flesh. So, a unique sense of sound. You wondered what else your new existence brought you.

This heightened sense came in handy an hour or so later. You’d been setting small fires across the library, trying to see how far your sense of smell went, when you heard it. At first, you thought it might be another zombie, but your new nose said otherwise. The newcomer did not smell like rotting flesh or congealed blood. They were something in between. You took a whiff around, and the trail led towards the library entrance. You’d been thinking of testing out your strength and speed. You saw how indestructible your fellow zombies were: you’d been throwing computer parts at them from above and barely making a dent. You might have a similar strength. You knew whatever being sauntered into your hideout will be your guinea pig. You put out your small bonfire with a wet paper towel, and followed the sounds and smells with your new body.

You made to move, but the intruder stepped out from behind the bookcases. It was Gwinam, except he looked drastically different from the boy you saw this morning. Firstly, he wore a new jacket that obviously wasn't his. Secondly, a hideous, nauseating gash went through his left eye, leaving a gory mess behind. He stopped when he saw you. You stared at him. He stared at you. Neither of you said anything. It was like meeting one of the zombies; you did not have to speak to understand one another.

"You too?" He asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"Yeah."

"In the cafeteria?"

"Yeah. You?"

"In here."

"When?"

"A few hours ago. Cheongsan pushed me off there," he pointed to one of the high bookcases, "And I got bit." His good eye surveyed you from afar.

"And your eye?"

"He shoved a phone into it."

"A phone?"

The idea of a cell phone never occurred to you. You could've called for help, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. Who could help you? And if help was called, they would have come by now. "Yeah, the corner part," he said, acting out the gesture with a stabbing motion, "But it's whatever. I don't really feel it. I plan on killing him." He spotted the deep wounds on your neck, and said, "Those don't bother you either?"

"Not really. I thought they'd at least itch, but they haven't," you said. "I tried recording the healing process, but it's very slow. I think because we're still partly human, we can't feel the pain but our muscles and skin react to it. Look, see," you showed him your bite marks, the skin barely together but no longer leaking blood. "It stopped bleeding, but the wound hasn't healed."

"Is that what you've been doing here?" He gestured to the trash can at your feet. "Experimenting?"

"Well, yes," you said, sheepishly. "I want to see what my body is capable of now that I've reached this new level of being. My senses are certainly sharper: I can smell things from at least twenty feet; I'm able to hear things from a further distance too, since sound echoes and bounces. I've discovered I don't die. I can't die. Seeing you now, I'm assuming it's the same for you?"

"Yeah."

You caught him looking over your body again. You became self-conscious immediately. Being undead, you doubted you'd lose any weight from your previous life. Add the disgusting bites and scratches on your flabby flesh, and you're absolutely distasteful. You didn't need Gwinam staring at you like that.

"Stop it," you said, not meeting his eyes.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me. You don't see me staring at your eye, do you? I don't need reminding of how ugly I am."

"You're not ugly."

You scoffed, "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I know how my body looks."

"I know too, and I like it."

"Huh?" You saw it once you met his eyes.

"Nothing about your body has ever bothered me," he said, licking his lips at you. "In fact, everything about it turns me the fuck on."

You walked backwards from him as he approached. Your heart thumped in your chest, the sound spreading to your ears and freezing your bones. A sudden heat flared up in your body, and you gulped thickly as it went all over. The glint in his eye is unmistakable, and it excites you. Never did you think this would happen. Yoon Gwinam was only meant for your dirtiest, smuttiest fantasies reserved for lonely nights at home. Yoon Gwinam was the forbidden fruit that you'd never reach; Hyejin and Soomin being the ones raising the branch with each disgusted word. Yet, as the world turned upside down, those fantasies quickly turned into reality as Gwinam moved towards you.

"You make my cock so fucking hard," he nearly growled, already unbuckling his pants. "It drives me crazy. I have to sit in class…seeing you there in that little skirt…seeing your tits almost bursting out of your shirt…I know why you wear it that way…you like showing off those big tits just for me, don't you?" The way he walked reminded you of Jisung from that morning. A lion coming upon its prey. Something about this brazen, direct Gwinam caused your mind to wander back into those fantasies. "And don't get me started on those thighs of yours,” his eyes scanned your body and stopped to your thighs, “I love looking at them, especially when you wear stockings…the way they hug your thighs so some pudges out…fuck, you know it does things to me…"

"What?" Your voice quivered slightly.

"Don't act innocent with me," he said, getting closer. His dark eyes full of frustration and lust brought back to the last scenario you imagined. Your arousal throbbed between your legs. "You act all clean cut but I know deep down you're just a whore who wants to be fucked senseless every second of the day.” He unzipped his fly, but did not pull anything out, "You made me so horny in class that I jerked off in the bathroom during lunch. I remembered you at the construction site, all breathless and horny, and I couldn't help it."

He came within inches of you. The heavy scent of blood and sweat reached your nose, and you bit your bottom lip. A sharp gasp left you when his body pressed into yours. Gwinam tugged down the front of his pants and boxers to withdraw his dick. The sight made you wet instantly. Not too long, it was certainly thick with heavy balls underneath. You knew you'd definitely feel him stretching you soon. You already imagined it tearing you apart as he ravaged your body.

"Open your shirt and let me see those tits," he demanded, eyes focused on your chest. "You were so eager to show them before. I want to see them now."

With trembling fingers you unbutton your shirt. Underneath, Gwinam saw the white undershirt you wore stretched over your large breasts. You untucked your shirt so he may see more of you, which he liked. You worried about the gashes zombies left on your stomach and chest, but Gwinam hardly noticed them. He sailed up your body past them and to your breasts. He cupped one right away, causing you to whimper from the touch. Gwinam smirked and squeezed it so you whimpered again. You never considered stimulation before this moment. You might not feel any pain, but you certainly felt the small sparks his hand alone brought. His hands warmed up as they fondled you over your bra and shirt, the temperature hardened your nipples so they poked into the fabric. The cotton fabric of your bra did nothing to hide this from Gwinam, who bent down to bite gently down on one. You made a mental note to write down ‘sexual stimulation’ as part of your human side.

He put your hand on his crotch, and instinctively you grabbed it. You liked the feel of him against your fingers. Even with his half undead existence, his body felt human as ever. You sensed the blood pumping through his cock, and could almost smell it through the thin skin. Big hands remained nearly lukewarm on your chest; their gentle squeezes were certainly stronger than your daydreams concocted. Full lips didn’t skip over the bite mark on your neck, kissing upwards and licking the dried blood. The feeling of his tongue against your skin sent chills down your body. You needed more of him. You continued lightly touching his cock, sometimes slipping lower to the ball sack underneath, which caused several deep groans.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned in your ear, still fondling your breasts. “So addicting,” he went back to kissing your neck, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

You brought him into a kiss, and you're thankful he didn't pull away. His plush lips caressed yours, carefully opening them with a small flick on your bottom lip. Blood tinged your lips, sliding from one tongue to the other, but you liked it. That undeniable hunger for flesh and blood came over you; you growled and sunk further into his kiss. You didn’t know if a half-zombie could eat another half-zombie, but you found his taste to be particularly intoxicating. You pushed yourself against him, roaming his body with your free hand to unzip his jacket There, you found his bloodied black sweater where zombies bit into his torso. You didn’t mind it. This new discovery only aroused you more. It was as if he'd opened the floodgates repressing your desires. You couldn’t stop yourself.

"Let's get rid of this," he growled between kisses.

He took the collar of your tanktop and tore it open easily. Gwinam groaned at the sight of your tight white bra, which squeezed your breasts more than you liked. He kissed fiercely along them, even giving a bite that pinched you, groping and squeezing them. You kept your hand on him, his shaft growing even harder while you jerked him. The touch made your sex clench within you, and your clit throbbed from the newest sensation. Gwinam roughly tugged down your bra, so your tits spilled over the wire supporting them. He stopped kissing you to admire the soft mounds filling his hands. You whined as he grazed his thumbs over your nipples, the two peaks hard against the rough pads.

"Fuck," he moaned, kissing one of them, "They're exactly how I imagined them to be. So big and soft. I could suck these all day." He took it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and sucking hard. He did this to each one since you squirmed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. "You can't imagine," he grunted, nipping at your tits, "How many times I felt like ripping your shirt open to play with them…How many times I thought of taking you…fucking you…raping you…"

"Gwinam…" you whimpered at his words, the filth causing you to stroke him faster. Droplets of precum stuck to your hand and slickened your motions. This only amplified your arousal.

"Like today with Jisung," he flicked his tongue over the very middle, which sent shocks of pleasure down your body. "I saw you standing there watching me hit him. I saw how you panted and bit your lower lip. You were touching yourself, and I wanted more than anything to fuck you. I wanted to chase you down, rip off your panties and have my way with you…whether you wanted it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He sucked particularly hard on one nipple, then came back up to you, “I’m the boss here now. I can have whatever and whoever I want, especially you.” He cupped your chin for a hard kiss, “I should’ve fucked you there. I would’ve given you the fucking little teases like you deserve.”

"What stopped you?" You asked him breathlessly, sliding one hand over his shoulder to feel more of him. You started pumping him faster. "Hm? What stopped big bad Gwinam from fucking the shit out of me right outside our school? You could've tossed me on the floor, fucking me into the dirt or into the bushes with your hand over my mouth-"

He cut you off by grabbing your throat. The slender digits squeezed both sides of your neck, cutting off air but not hurting you. The pain came from the harsh slap that went across your cheek. When you cried out, he did it again to the opposite cheek. He stared at you for a moment, surveying the need written on your face. Your clit throbbed for his attention, hoping your grinding hips might clue him into that. He then slapped you again, then kissed you roughly.

"You filthy slut," he grunted against your lips. "You like that, huh?” he smacked you again, “You like being hit?”

The truth was: yes, you did. The stinging pain mingled with the desire burning inside you. Being in his strong grasp, pinned by his long body, you knew you could easily escape him. This elevated, evolved being you’ve become came with a strength you’d never known before. It made you invincible. Breaking away from him wouldn’t be a problem, yet you don’t push or thrash in his clutches. You instead spread your thighs and begin pumping him once more. From his heavy breathing, you knew you’d gotten the effect you wanted.

“Let me see for myself then.” He stuck his hand under your skirt and roughly pushed your panties aside. You gasped from the sudden invasion of his fingers on your sex. Boys touched you there before, but not like how Gwinam did. Three fingers cupped your dampening center to rub carefully up and down; he didn’t care if you let him or not, your pussy was his now. “Oh, you do enjoy this kind of thing,” he sneered, releasing your throat and grabbing at your hair instead. A quick tug and a forceful pull brought you to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to show you what I would’ve done if I’d caught you. Open.”

He prodded his tip to your lips, which opened right away. The taste of salty precum slid over your tongue and savored the sticky substance. A huge part of your fantasies finally came true. Gwinam kept his hold on your hair while he guided you over his hips. The girth of his filled your mouth completely, and his head hit your throat once or twice. It’s exactly how you imagined. You sucked the hard muscle firmly, a move that made Gwinam groan. You wanted to please him; you wanted his approval and satisfaction. It became harder to breathe once he forced you right up to his base. You gripped your knees tightly as pain started burning your throat and chest. Inhaling through your nose, you tried your best to breathe as Gwinam’s cock nearly suffocated you. You loved it. Something about his dick blocking your airway, causing you to gag and choke on it excited you. Your eyes teared up whenever he held you to him for too long, only moving his tip from your throat in short strokes. Yet, you did not object or force him away. You hummed in your throat as he moved in and out. When he mumbled about enjoying it, you kept on going. Streams of his precum and your saliva started dripping from your mouth, leaking through the corners. You pointedly rocked backward and forward so your tits jiggled for him, and you saw him eye them right away. When he pulled away, streams of it came out and you gasped for air.

“Look at you,” he groaned, tapping his wet cock on your lips and cheeks. “You love choking on dick,” he sneered, pushing his tip into your mouth once more. He kept you still with one hand under your chin and the other on the back of your head. More tears spilled down your cheeks as he fucked your throat. You started playing with your nipples, and moaned around his shaft. “Your mouth is fucking heaven,” he moaned, “Like a silk toy. Because that’s all you are…A mindless, stupid fuck toy for me to use whenever I want.”

Your muffled moans made him laugh. “And, to think, what I’ve become gives me so much more stamina than before,” he continued, shoving himself fully inside. “I can do all the dirty things I’ve wanted to do with you, and never get tired,” he withdrew himself to let you breathe, “And you know what that means, right?” As you tried swallowing the thickness in your mouth, he said, “It means you’re going to learn what happens to sluts who think they can flash their tits and ass at me. You thought you could flaunt those thighs and those tits and that ass and I’d do nothing about it? Hm?” He plunged his cock right back into your mouth, laughing as you cried. “And there’s nobody around to stop me; nobody to laugh at me about it. It’s only you and me, and you make me horny nearly every second of the day.” He thrusted rapidly, drowning out your cries with his moans. “That means you might as well not wear anything at all.”

He pulled out a final time, and watched you sputter and gasp for air. You massaged your throat, which felt hoarse and ached. Gwinam tugged your head back, and rested his balls right on your mouth. You knew exactly what to do. You took one in your mouth for a tender suck, licking your tongue over the curves and skin. Gwinam stroked himself slowly as you tongued his balls; he occasionally grinded into your face so you’d swallow the whole thing. Little moans vibrated over the sensitive skin, and Gwinam gritted his teeth. You grabbed his thighs for some stability, a thing he did not deny you, and buried your face further into his crotch. Gwinam pulled his balls away and had you lick his shaft up and down while you fondled them instead. Your pussy became so wet, you felt your juices sliding between your thighs. You loved how he used you. You loved giving yourself over to him entirely, and being the sex doll he wanted. Gwinam is the only boy you ever considered yourself fucking this way; you knew he had the ferocity, the depravity, the perversion to do it how you’d wanted. Other boys you’d managed to hook up with always showed hesitancy. Not Gwinam. You’ll be his whore and nothing else.

That was what you wanted.

Long, drawn out moans and panting preceded the thick, hot semen suddenly filling your mouth. You eagerly and greedily swallowed the substance going down your throat. It tasted delicious. Whether it was being undead or because it was Gwinam, you swallowed his whole load. Gwinam’s orgasm made him push harder and faster, making your neck and jaw burn from the pain. He didn’t stop until each drop left his tip and into your mouth. You swallowed whatever he left, even opening your mouth to let him squeeze it onto your tongue.

“You’re the perfect cum dump,” he breathed, running his tip over your lips so you’d lick off the droplets remaining. When he spotted worry in your eyes, he laughed, “Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from. Stand up,” he ordered, lifting you with little effort, and turning you around.

Excitement brought out your smile as he forced you to bend over. Your mind whirled from the thoughts going through your head. Spreading your legs, you arched your back slightly for him to see underneath. He lifted up your skirt to show your panties, and the cold air touched over your sex. No doubt he saw the wet spot pooled right in the center, since he then cupped it in his hand. Long fingers rolled up and down each inch of your sex, and stopped right at your clit. Your cotton panties, white and cheap, must be almost see through with how wet you’d made them.

“Your pussy is so fucking wet,” he moaned, one finger finding your clit and teasing it gently. “I thought about it so many times. Even today, when I jerked off during lunch, I thought of your sweet, tight cunt.”

“And I thought of your dick in it,” you admitted, whining when you felt his finger push delicately against your panties. “I want it so bad. I can’t think about anything else when I’m…I’m around you, oh fuck…”

His fingers teasing your clit only caused more wetness to develop. Gwinam then took both sides of your panties and threaded them between your buttocks and folds. A small bit covered your clit yet exposed it to him at the same time. While one hand spanked your ass cheeks, the other used the tip of his finger to pass over the sensitive nub. Streams of mewls, cries, and whimpers left your lips. Every little touch to it tightened the ball building inside your loins. He knew exactly what to do, and how to make you whine like a bitch in heat. Gwinam’s constant torture had you clawing the table and wriggling around in front of him. You thought you might cum from just the teasing alone.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “I could feel that pussy fluttering for me already.” He moved his finger side to side and threw down more sharp spanks to your ass. “I bet you’re dying to have me in there, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, “Yes, yes, please.”

“Please, what, slut?”

“Please fuck me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Ummm, no.”

Using both hands, Gwinam did not pull off your panties. He did not slowly peel them off and slide them to your ankles. He took the seam keeping front and back together and tore it apart. The sound of shredding fabric reached your ears. He did not remove the waistband. He only ripped it enough to expose your ass and pussy to him, leaving a long tear that went from back to front. Gwinam left your side and crouched down behind you. You felt him dangerously close to your center; you shuddered when something hot and slippery slide over your clit. Gwinam pulled the lips apart and focused his tongue there. You cried out feeling the tip circle it repeatedly; you grabbed at the table whenever he dipped beneath or on top of it slowly. The obscene lapping and slurping from below added to your uncontrollable moans. When he turned you around, your thighs immediately locked around him and with your own strength, you forced his mouth to take your clit. Gwinam gazed up in amusement, eagerly sucking and licking the cunt right in his face. He didn’t stop you from grinding over his mouth and nose; it’s not as if he’d suffocate. That was a perk of being partly dead, you guessed.

“I’ve wanted this for s-s-so long,” you said, gasping when his tongue entered your clenching and unclenching walls. “Oh god, just like that,” you started fucking his face in return, “Your tongue feels so fucking good! Ah!” his sudden grasp of your thighs with a hard smack let out a sudden squeak from you. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me for such a long time. My pussy gets wet just looking at you. I thought…I thought if I teased you, you’d give in and take me. I would’ve let you fuck me however you wanted, as long as I got your cock inside me.” You gripped his hair, soft and silky in your hand, and cried out from the pleasure he brought. “I saw you beat up Jisung, and I couldn’t help…couldn’t help touching myself to it. You being so big and long and strong-”

Gwinam interrupted you by rolling you backwards so your body curled into a c-shape. He pinned your knees to your chest as he wagged his tongue over your pussy. That’s when you came. In a blinding, gut-tensing, muscle-contracting orgasm, you came right on his face. Gwinam only growled his delight at your cum in his mouth. You bucked your hips around, the table underneath you moving slightly, and pushed into his face more. He sucked up all the juices until your clitoris turned sensitive from your climax; it didn’t stop him. Gwinam kissed down to your ass hole where his tongue moved teasingly before coming back up. You're normally concerned with him going from one hole to the other, but not anymore. You’re dead. What infections could you get from it?

“Looks like,” he said, kissing up the backs of your thighs, “We’re both going to get what we want then.”

With total ease, he pulled you to the edge of the table and onto his cock. Keeping your thighs on your stomach, Gwinam charged into you as he liked: hard and rough. The stings of pain did nothing to you. It only made you want to cum again.

“Oh my god,” he growled, squeezing your thighs tightly. “You really must be a whore to take my dick so well. You’re the perfect fuck hole; the perfect cum dump…and you’re all mine.”

“Yes, yes, I am.”

He grabbed your throat, hovering over you and making you face him as you moaned his name. Your lips parted from your constant moans, Gwinam spat into your mouth. He slapped you when you didn’t swallow it immediately. He did it a second time, and you bent to his whims. Then, he gave you another sloppy kiss. You loved the dirtiness of it all; you craved more and more of it. You’d dreamt of this moment for months; you’d desired, lusted, and fantasized about it. When Gwinam grabbed your wrists to keep you on the table, hungrily kissing you, you almost came again. His shirt brushed lightly on your clit which made you weak and shuddering. Biting down on your neck, you winced from the pain, but you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Push back on me,” he said, kissing down to your nipples where he sucked harshly. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted this dick, slut.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kept Gwinam in place as you pushed your hips into his own. His thick cock stretched you pleasantly, bringing you nothing but pleasure as you drove him deep inside. Gwinam stuck out his tongue to let your nipple brush over the flat part, flicking it once or twice or sucking it for you. You purposefully made them bounce in his face which made him growl and grunt. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your tits. His tongue teasing your nipples and his dick hitting that spot inside your pussy brought you closer to another orgasm.

“Gwinam, Gwinam, I’m going to cum,” you wept, the pleasure overwhelming your body. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum again.”

“Good. Do it,” he gripped you by the chin, “Cum on my dick. Do it. Now.”

The second wave made you scream. You worried undead classmates might hear you, but they must’ve been somewhere else. Not that it mattered. They didn’t touch you. Only Gwinam touched you, and he rode out your orgasm in a few thrusts. Still shivering and whimpering, Gwinam ignored your weakened state and tossed you onto the library floor. On your front, air punched out of you for a second before he was on top of you. Without warning, his fingers entered your ass, and his cock shoved into your pussy. You arched your back for him, nearly dizzy from your orgasms and his relentless abuse of your body. And then he fucked you. He fucked you exactly how you’d always wanted. The depravity of the scene made your head swim in the haze of it all. With his free hand, Gwinam gripped your throat so your head lifted from the floor. The slight pressure cut your airway, but not enough that you’d suffocate completely.

“I’m going to cum in all your holes,” he huffed, his fingers knuckle deep in your ass while his dick filled you. “You’re going to be limping out of this library with cum dripping from you. I only wish everyone was alive…then they can see what a fucking…fucking…fucking whore YN is!”

More cum squirted into your pussy, and you couldn’t be bothered to protest. You accepted every drop. “Please cum in me,” you cried, fists underneath you and humping his cock, “Please. I want you to fill each one, please.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be more than filled,” he grunted, going faster and harder like before.

In a few more strokes, he finished his second orgasm. You took a moment to notice that he did not need a small refractory period. A surprise perk to being dead, you supposed. Not even taking a moment to breathe, Gwinam removed his fingers from your ass and laid back on the floor. You knew immediately what he wanted. You turned around to stuff his coated cock in your mouth, slobbering over it to make it wet as possible. Gwinam groaned, hands going through his hair as pleasure came over him again. A part of you wanted to stay there, cleaning his cock of your combined juices until he came again, but you knew what your lover really wanted. When his cock was prepared, you turned your back to him and sunk down on it…with your ass. This new tightness had Gwinam cursing and moaning your name. You leaned forward, broken panties and skirt over your hips so he’d have a perfect view of your ass, and bounced as much as you could.

Being undead left you stronger and faster. Before, you could never properly ride a guy. Your body felt too heavy and you worried you’d hurt them somehow. Not Gwinam. He handled you with ease, and you had no trouble riding him. You wanted him to cum again. You enjoyed his deep, throaty groans and the names he called you. He dominated you and you couldn’t help but submit. He went back to smacking and grabbing your ass while you touched your soaked, hard clit again. If anyone came upon you two, it’d certainly be a feast for the eyes. The feeling of him fully driving into you, stretching and filling you, drove you wild. You did whatever you could to milk more cum from him.

“Stay still,” he ordered, and you stopped at once. Luckily, it was for him to continue the pace on his own. “Your ass is as good as your pussy, fuck,” he panted, grabbing your hair to pull you backwards, “I could fuck this forever.”

“I wish you would,” you replied, meeting his hips nevertheless so loud smacking sounds filled the space. “I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”

“Oh my god,” he grunted, “Say that again. Say it.”

“I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”

“Then make me cum, slut. Come on,” he smacked your ass hard, “Make me cum with that fat, round…oh fuck, yes, yes, like that-”

The sheer motion of him cumming in your ass had you joining him. You kept going, not feeling exhausted at all. In fact, it heightened every sense. Everything became clearer, and the hunger nestled inside you had you slamming down on him. Once you drained him of cum, Gwinam still did not stop. He seemed incapable of it, and you did not complain. Rolling you onto your side, hands on your breasts, he used one leg to spread your thighs and sink back into your pussy. He let you continue your third orgasm on your own, rubbing your clit and pinching your nipples. You screamed once more as the climax truly hit you this time. Gwinam smacked your clit a few times during it, the light stings having you saying his name. He put you into a scissor position, the new angle driving home and leaving you senseless beneath him. Squelching sounds told you that his cum mixed with yours, and leaked out of your sex. You almost felt it pooling underneath him in every thrust. The new pace and position had you screaming his name a fourth time, and his own soon followed.

You did this for a while. It felt as if all those months of repressed feelings and sexual frustration exploded into this unrelenting, insatiable bomb. You couldn’t stop. You both bit, clawed, slapped, spat and growled throughout the day. Yes, the day. It was a thing you didn’t think possible until you’d turned into this half-human, half-zombie lifeform. Gwinam took you on every possible surface: the tables, chairs, against bookshelves and cabinets. It continued even against the glass doors where the bloody, snarling, stumbling and shuffling zombies went right by. The most exciting was when he fucked you right in the hallway, having you on all fours as he grunted about people watching you both. Pure bliss. That’s all it was.

Fantasies do come true.

***

A/N: wow, this one is wild! lol it's one of my longer pieces, but I hope you still enjoyed this. It's my first Gwinam fic, and I'm really proud of it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it <3

[hjparisian]

always yours-harry j potter x reader

p: harry j potter x fem! reader w: TW !!! toxic relationship, abuse, fluff ending, cussing, not proof read summary: harry and (y/n) come across each other a bit after the war and reconnect. a/n: another request from a lovely follower! so sorry this is so late. i haven't had motivation to write and couldn't figure out what to even write. if any of you guys are in an abusive relationship, please try to reach out to someone! i know it's better said than done but you all deserve the best.

The light breeze felt perfect to (Y/N). It was her day off of work from the Ministry today, so (Y/N) decided to use this day for herself to relax. Merlin knows that her work and her boyfriend has her feeling drained.

(Y/N) had just exited Flourish and Blotts, nose in one of the new books she bought. Her focus was disrupted when she bumped into a large figure, making her drop her book.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I should've been looking where I was going," (Y/N) said to the person as she went to pick up her book but someone else grabbed it first.

"Oh it's alright, no worries," a familiar voice said to her.

(Y/N) looked up to the person handing her her book back.

"Wait, H-Harry?"

"(Y/N)?"

The girl was in shock. In front of her was her old friend and former crush, Harry Potter. The last time they've seen each other was at the Battle of Hogwarts. Though she had returned to Hogwarts for her eighth year, Harry did not.

"What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked the man.

"I was just grabbing some stuff for school."

"School?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

"That's amazing Harry!" (Y/N) said to him. "I mean you were the best at the class. Plus you were such an amazing teacher when you taught Dumbledore's Army so it doesn't surprise me."

"Thanks, (Y/N). And what are you doing?"

"Oh, I just came from Flourish and Blotts. It's my day off from the Ministry and I was looking for new books."

"Well," Harry says. "What else do you have planned for today?"

"Honestly, nothing else."

"Do you want to come over to my place?" Harry asked her. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just hoping we could catch up maybe?"

"I would love to," (Y/N) said without a second thought.

Harry and (Y/N) exited the Leaky Cauldron and apparated to Harry's place. It was an apartment not too far from London. Harry unlocked the door and let (Y/N) enter.

It was a rather simple but clean apartment. There were a couple photos on the walls from Harry's years at Hogwarts. One that caught (Y/N)'s eye was a picture of Dumbledore's Army during their fifth year. Harry was in the middle of the photo and (Y/N) somehow had a spot right next to Harry.

"Bring back memories, huh?" Harry said as he stood behind her.

"Yeah. I still remember the first meeting." (Y/N) said. "I wanted to punch Zacharias in the face."

Harry laughed at your comment. "Me too, but he did come around."

Harry guided (Y/N) to the couch in his living room.

"Did you want anything to drink?" Harry asked her. "I got water, butterbeer, firewhiskey."

"Some butterbeer please."

Harry left to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of butter beer, handing one to (Y/N).

"So, how are Hermione and Ron?"

"They're good. They got engaged recently."

"Really?" (Y/N) said in awe. "That's wonderful! I remember talking with Hermione about Ron back in sixth year. Finally got her to admit her feelings for him."

Harry nodded his head, grinning at the memories. "They were both too stubborn to realize it."

(Y/N) nodded before taking a sip of the butterbeer. "What about you Harry? You were with Ginny last I heard."

"I was but not anymore." (Y/N) had a shocked look on her face. "We broke up a while back."

"Really? And Ron hasn't killed you?" (Y/N) asked.

Harry chuckled a bit. "It was actually Ginny who ended it. It was mutual so no bad blood between us."

"That's good then."

A question had been burning on the back of Harry's mind. Thankfully, they were on the topic of it.

"What about you? Are you with anyone?"

(Y/N) set down the bottle she was holding before she answered. "I am actually."

Harry felt his heart drop a bit. "Who is it?"

(Y/N) started messing with the hem of her top, feeling a bit nervous. "Do you remember Cormac McLaggen? He tried out for keeper our sixth year."

For some reason, Harry felt his heart crumble a bit. That bloke Cormac is with (Y/N)? Those two couldn't be anymore different. How could that troll earn her love?

"Harry?"

(Y/N)'s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Are you alright Harry? You were zoning out a bit," (Y/N) pointed out.

"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I remember him, bit of a jerk from what I remember in sixth year." Harry said. "Is Cormac good to you?"

(Y/N) avoided eye contact and kept messing with her shirt. "Oh yeah. I mean we have a few arguments here and there, but he means well. Do you mind bringing another bottle of butterbeer please?"

Harry nodded before getting up to the kitchen again. He didn't necessarily believe (Y/N), but he wasn't going to prod on their relationship.

The two had been enjoying reconnecting. Harry told (Y/N) stories from his first year teaching at Hogwarts, one including how a third year girl sent him a singing card on Valentine's Day. (Y/N) also told Harry about her job at the Ministry and how her coworker spilt coffee on Kingsley Shacklebolt's robes.

(Y/N) looked at the clock on the nearby wall to see that it was a quarter past twelve am. She couldn't believe that she's been talking to Harry for this long. She had to get home.

"Hey Harry, I have to get going," (Y/N) told the man sitting next to her.

Harry looked at the clock to also see how late it was. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize the time."

"It's quite alright Harry, I had a wonderful time with you anyways."

"Will you be apparating home?" Harry asks her. "Don't want you to head home by yourself if you aren't."

"Yes, I am. You don't need to worry," she said to him. "Besides, I know a few spells thanks to a certain Gryffindor."

Harry smiled a bit, knowing she was referring to him.

"I'll see you later Harry," (Y/N) said while handing him a paper.

The girl disapperated, returning to her home.

Harry unfolded the paper, which revealed some numbers. It was (Y/N)'s phone number. Right under it, she left a small message.

Call me! :)

The next morning, (Y/N) woke up to hearing noises coming from the kitchen. She put on a sweater and walked out to find her boyfriend Cormac cooking.

"Good morning," he said to her.

"Morning," she said.

"Thought I'd make us breakfast before you go to work," said Cormac. "Also where were you last night? You got home pretty late."

"I was catching up with an old friend."

Cormac hummed before asking her the dreaded question. "Who?"

"Oh it's no one special," she nervously said.

Cormac raised an eyebrow at her before asking again. "Who were you with, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) cleared her throat before speaking. "Harry."

"Potter?"

"Yeah him."

(Y/N) looked at her boyfriend, seeing a look of resentment in his eyes.

"I never really liked that bloke." Cormac said while handing (Y/N) her plate. "Gave the keeper spot to Weasley just because that's his best friend."

(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to say anything to make Cormac upset.

The two ate until (Y/N) had to go to work. While heading to work, (Y/N) felt her phone buzz. She saw it was a number she didn't recognize, but the back of her mind was hoping it was a certain boy.

(Y/N) took chance and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello?" A familiar voice said. "Is this (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) laughed a bit before responding. "Yes it is."

"Oh good. It's Harry."

"I know," (Y/N) said, smiling. "I recognized your voice."

"Ah yeah," Harry said. "How are you?"

"Good. Just heading to work."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I can call later."

(Y/N) felt herself smiling more.

"No it's alright! I have time. Besides, it makes the travel to work less lonely."

And so began a new routine of Harry calling her on her way to work. Which then went into them calling each other after work. On nights Cormac was away, Harry and (Y/N) would call each other.

Harry and (Y/N) began seeing each other more in person too. He'd join her on trips to Diagon Alley for more books or to grab a bite after a long day of work.

This change did not go by unnoticed by Cormac, though. He noticed how distracted she became, how she smiled at her phone more, how she left for work earlier and came back later, how she'd go out more.

The boy had enough.

One day, when (Y/N) had returned from work late, Cormac was sitting in her living room, waiting for her arrival.

"Oh! Didn't know you were here Cormac, I thought you wouldn't get home 'til later," the girl said upon noticing her boyfriend on her couch.

"Where were you?" The boy asked her.

Cormac had gotten up and walked towards her, glaring at her.

(Y/N) had begun to feel a bit nervous, knowing Cormac wouldn't like the reason she had returned late.

"I-I was at work," (Y/N) stammered out.

"What about after work?" Cormac questioned her. "Where did you go?"

"Just went to grab a bite."

Cormac began pestering her. "With who? You had to have been with someone if you've taken this long."

(Y/N) felt herself starting to shake. She had never enjoyed when Cormac began to act like this, knowing he was getting angry and a bit emotional.

"I was just out with a friend," she meekly said.

"I wanna know who you were with (Y/N)."

"It was just a friend, Cormac."

"Don't bullshit me. Was it with Potter?"

(Y/N)'s hesitation was all Cormac needed to get his answer.

"It was with Potter, wasn't it."

(Y/N) couldn't lie to him, knowing he figured her out. She nodded.

"Yes, but he's just a friend."

Cormac laughed at her. "Oh really, (Y/N)? Doesn't look like it to me. All those days you came home late, were on the phone for hours. Probably all with fucking Potter. Wouldn't be surprised if you went and shagged him."

--TW description of physical abuse--

"Cormac, I didn't shag him! We were just reconnecting, that's all. Please let's just tal-"

A loud smack echoed through the room.

Cormac had hit her.

"Shut up you bitch!"

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s face. Cormac took noticed of this and began laughing at her.

"You're crying?" The boy shoved her against the wall. "What if I give you something to actually cry about?"

"Cormac, stop!" (Y/N) sobbed.

He let go of her and let her drop to the ground. (Y/N) had begun sobbing loudly, hyperventilating.

"Get out (Y/N)! Go to your fucking boyfriend Potter for all I care." Cormac screamed at her.

--TW end--

(Y/N) had pushed herself up and got out the door before Cormac slammed it behind her. She decided to use her strength to apparate to the only person that could help her.

She knocked on the door and waited a second before it opened to reveal her former schoolmate.

Harry stared at her before bringing her inside and embracing her. She flinched, but began melting into his embrace after telling herself that it's just Harry.

"I just need to know," Harry began. "Did Cormac do this to you?"

(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to speak.

Harry felt himself become angry. How could Cormac do this to her? She was an angel, unlike that asshole. He never deserved her. But did Harry himself deserved (Y/N)? He couldn't protect her, keep her safe. This could've been avoided if Harry was with (Y/N).

He couldn't think about that now when (Y/N) was in his arms needing care. He brought the girl to his bathroom, doing his best to try and tend the bruises that littered her skin. Harry drew a bath and brought a change of clothes for (Y/N).

"I'll be right outside, I promise." He told her. "I'll have to finish checking your bruises when your done."

Once (Y/N) decided to get out of the bath half an hour later, Harry made sure he didn't miss any other injuries before bringing her to his bed. He was just going to let her rest until a hand grabs his.

"Don't leave. Please."

Harry would always listen to (Y/N).

The boy stayed with her until sleep finally took over. As much as Harry wanted to stay with her, he had business to take care of.

Thankfully, he remembered where (Y/N) lived after dropping her off multiple times so he apparated in the night to her door. He banged on the door hard until it opened, revealing his new worst enemy.

"What do you want Potter? (Y/N) isn't here."

"Oh I know." Harry told Cormac. "Just came for a chat."

Harry stepped forward in an attempt to enter the house until Cormac stopped him.

"I'm busy right now."

"Well I guess I can try to make this quick," Harry said.

A punch was thrown at the older wizard, catching him off guard. Harry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed them into the apartment, shoving him up against the nearest wall.

"I know what you did to (Y/N), McLaggen. How dare you hurt her!" Harry screamed at him.

"I didn't do such thing." Another punch was thrown.

"Don't you dare lie to me! I know you did it. You hurt her! You never deserved her."

"Oh but you think you do?" Cormac scoffed at Harry, while trying to push him off.

"I would've treated her way better than you ever have."

"You want a slut like her? You're pathetic Potter."

Those words had enraged Harry more than ever. The two continued fighting, Harry having the upper hand. One more punch landed on Cormac before he fell to the floor.

"You better stay away from (Y/N). If I hear that you stepped one foot near her I won't hesitate to punch you again," Harry spat at him before making his leave back to his home.

Harry headed for his room, wanting to make sure that the girl he loves was still there. Fortunately, she was, but she was awake.

"Where did you go Harry? I was getting worried."

"I just went to take care of something," he said, trying to reassure her.

"What do you need to take care of at this time?" (Y/N) said while walking toward him.

A small gasp slipped her month before her hand made contact with his cheek. Harry would be lying if he said it didn't feel nice.

"You're hurt Harry!" (Y/N) exclaimed before dragging him to his bathroom.

"(Y/N) love, I'm fine." He kind of wasn't. Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw the marks Cormac apparently left him. He was too focused on getting vengeance for (Y/N) that he ignored it.

(Y/N) began cleaning his face. "Harry, you have dried blood on your face. I don't think that's considered fine. What were you doing?"

"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't be upset," Harry said to her.

"What?" (Y/N) paused, confused.

"Just promise me."

"Fine. I promise I won't get upset."

"Alright, well," Harry began. The adrenaline was gone and he began feeling nervous. "I went to visit Cormac at your guys apartment."

"You went to see Cormac?" (Y/N) squeaked. "Why would you do that Harry?"

"I couldn't stand what he did to you (Y/N). He hurt you. You didn't deserve what he did. I had to teach him a lesson."

"So you went to beat each other up?"

"Well, him more so than me," Harry joked.

"Why? Why would you beat him up for me?"

"Because (Y/N). I love you."

(Y/N)'s eyes widen in shock. "W-what?"

"I love you. And I think I always have. Seeing you brought back those feelings I've had back when we were at Hogwarts. I would do anything to protect you (Y/N)."

"Oh Harry," tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes.

Harry noticed and got a little bit worried. "It's alright if you don't feel the same way. I know you just had to deal with Cormac so-"

Arms wrapped around him and lips met his. Harry froze for a second before melting into it, gently placing his hands on her waist.

(Y/N) was the first to break the kiss, to respond to Harry's declaration of love to her.

"I love you too, Harry."

(Y/N) finished cleaning up Harry before heading back to his bed. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm and safe.

"I promise to protect you no matter what," Harry said to her. "I would do anything for you."

"And I will do the same for you, because you're mine."

"And I will always be yours."

[howdoesagrapewrites]

what wld lovesick pav and gaya be like w a s/o who tries to be like, healthy in their relationship? like they're not the "i wanna get away bc this is unhealthy" type, but the "i will actively tie you both down and make you communicate your feelings and wants in a healthy way until we can all reach a mutual agreement" way

like the two reach the stage where they don't want their love to leave the house at all- but they kinda quickly shut that down and are like "nuh uh. i have a life, so either we talk it out and find something that works for me and you two or i stay out five minutes past the curfew you set just to make you squirm"

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩

Cw: poly!reader x lovesick! Pavitr Prabhakar x lovesick!Gayatri Singh, explicit talk about mental health

Notes: all I can think about is the reader spraying then with a water bottle like a poorly behaved cat

>You went out of the apartment to get the grocery shopping done, your partners had been behaving oddly, they were always very affectionate and loved being around you, but lately you feel like they have been neglecting their personal life in order to be together

>You left the house when they were taking a nap, you didn't feel like you were sneaking out, just that you were doing chores while they slept

>You think about this as you examine the red apples deciding if you should buy them or not

>Your phone vibrates and you answer to a preoccupied Pavitr, you apologize for not telling them, but you didn't want to disturb them, when you're about to hang up, he hits you with "just wait, we're on our way"

>You're a little confused and annoyed by having to wait for them at the market without being able to continue the list of home necessities, but you tried to be understanding, and thought that maybe when you got home, you could start a conversation about what you've been thinking the whole afternoon

>When they arrived, the outing went smoothly, and happily, like you're used to

>After you finished organizing everything on the shelves and pantry, you started the conversation in a pretty straight forward manner, you didn't want to dance around the subject and talk about issues like they're anything aside a from a completely normal part of every relationship

>You said you wanted to talk, and they were visibly nervous, however, complied

>"So I've been noticing that you don't want to leave the house, and that you get really upset when I do leave, and it concerns me, I won't force you, but I'm your partner too, I'm here for both of you."

>I think these two would be one of the easiest characters to pull into therapy and get them to work through their issues, something that's surprising considering they would never accept this if you were dating individually

>The challenge here is definitely Pavitr, because like I've said a million times already, he's extremely delusional

>So it'll be hard to even make him realize there's an issue with his obsession, also you'll need to reassure him that you're not rejecting his feelings, but rather just want to work through a more positive and healthy way of expressing and processing those feelings

>"But I love you, why don't you love me too?"

>"Of course I do, Pav, but love isn't supposed to hurt"

>Gayatri has a more clear vision of where these issues stem from and will be more cooperative with communication with time

>At first she's closed to the idea, but when she sees how much you care and that you genuinely want to help her, she lets her guard down

>If you respond positively and don't show signs of fear or disgust when she tells you about her feelings, you get to hear, the most gruesome parts, but far from scared, you're proud she feels safe to verbalize and recognize toxic behavior

>I think Pavitr would use mindfulness as a coping strategy for the yandere tendencies, and Gayatri would turn to writing

>Some of Gayatri's pieces are morbid, sure, but it's better than having her do it, you praise the effort

>Sometimes they still relapse and snap at you or get too possessive, but you're having none of it

>You set clear boundaries and as hard as that is, they understand that they'll lose your trust and love if they are unwilling to be better

>I think there's a solid 8/10 chance of fixing them

[876543287654356789io987654]

Mod Stephen is a complete jerk and I'd like to talk about it.

I'm Mod Incyn, Mod Stephen's (now) ex and previous partner, the one who would occasionally answer the asks with silly little drawings of your faves smoking weed.

I'd like to talk about it because I don't want him rebranding this account to suddenly pretend nothing happened.

There's a lot that's happened and a good portion of it is not going to be shared because it's little reasons that don't seem important to share regardless.

Here are his Discord(s); TWICE being his main, Gnarp Gnarp being his alt.

Discord IDs: 690442589400334346 / 274840384004161536

I would prefer for those who have interacted with him, or for those who won't even interact with him ever, to just avoid him overall. He's changed from a genuinely kind person I've dated to one of the biggest liars and assholes I've had the misfortune of meeting; and hopefully he'll better himself in the future, but it saddens me that I'm one of the people he's been hurting for a while.

For months after our final breakup (a mutual decision to be friends), Stephen decides to do a complete 180 in how he interacted with me; he's gone far enough as to talk behind my back to his new partner about things that he pretended to care about when I offered to spend time together.

I've already gone 0 contact with him after our breakup, yet he believes that this is how I should be treated and has attempted to get people to side with him/pit them against me among my current friend group.

He miraculously has the courage to talk bad about me regarding statuses that never involved him, that I never implied to be aimed or directed to him.

There's also the times where, while I'm not obviously going to force someone to sit and watch me play games, he's agreed to spend time with me only to talk behind my back like I was forcing him to do something he didn't want.

If he didn't want to sit through me playing games, he could've just been nice and let me know about it.

There's also the several times I've commissioned him during our relationship (and mind you, I've given him no deadline as I wouldn't have wanted to rush him), and yet he couldn't deliver any final pieces to me because of different reasons that just never really made any sense.

(The "Agent Washington" proxy and "Jones" profiles are still the same person I am referring to, which is Mod Stephen. He used to also go by several names.)

(For context, my name was previously Sacrifice that I went by.)

I've paid him for other things (such as food, games, etc., but none of those are related to my commissions from him, and thus I do not deem important).

Another instance of his crude behavior has been during VC in a streamer's server that he now is banned from (with proof that he still openly shits on me and my friends for getting him banned for several counts of harassment during and outside of VCs is several other servers).

While I don't care that he's petty about being banned, he surely has a problem that someone in his server is quietly ratting him out for his toxic behavior towards me and other friends.

There's counts of him making pretty awful jokes in VCs while I was still dating him in said streamer's server, especially one regarding me allegedly "verbally abusing him" in front of many other server members when I've been nothing but kind to him for everything.

(This was a conversation I had with said streamer months after the initial joke.)

He had only apologized about it once I actively DMed him regarding the joke, and made no attempt to even apologize for it during or AFTER the VC was already over with.

The only thing I'd rather talk about is his treatment regarding my friends and how they're both equally just as hurt for him talking shit about them over absolutely nothing - and even attempting to scam one of them out of Vbucks all because he didn't want to finish the commission due to it being "uncomfortable" - which clearly is more sad than I've expected of him to even pull off.

(Orion is also referred to as his previous name before choosing to have gone by Jonesy.)

This post is long enough as is, and I won't be going on longer as other reasons I've denied him permission to message me ever again is not as vital or as important as these ones.

I hope that anyone else he comes across is not treated this way, and never will be treated this way, all because he decides to trade them away for another person he finds more important to be with.

[endlesscolddreams]

Why fruk? All they do is fight!!! That's exhausting and toxic

I know I took a long time to reply to this but I wanted to have time for it.

There are many reasons, from the usual rivals to lovers to the doomed lovers and gravitational forces that keep clashing to the lovely reason of face family (children), but I'll admit, I don't think face family is a thing. While I do love it, I don't think it's realistic at all in nation aus, they're too young and focused on ambitions and other matters; besides, they'd never join to raise the kids because France is not a parent, only when kids are older and interesting; England mellowed to kids with age, but he was a brat himself, America was the one pulling the strings like only a child does, tbh. 

I could give you many reasons, from their personalities to the fact that there's not a single soul that knows them better than the one who witnessed all your failures and victories, but I decided to address the point you make about it being exhausting.

It is, but at the same time, it's invigorating.

As someone who comes from a house of maniacs who always fought, I'll admit I don't understand it that well sometimes, but there's a point to be made here, and that is: love is not enough.

These two are really good to showcase this point because they do love and hate each other like no one else, and that's not enough. I think that's the main appeal of this ship tbh.

Their love is not enough to be together, not enough to be apart, not enough to ignore the other, and not enough to lower their guard and properly try. And isn't that the most humane and real fact? I do gravitate towards them in all the ways they're portrayed because of it. You can make them sweet, you can make them less proud, and you can make them human and fragile, but in the end, they're who they are and will always fight. But while they do fight a lot, they are used to it; they're desensitised to it, even if it looks toxic or abusive. They have a mutual understanding that no one—them included—can understand properly, but it works for them, which is enough to make them crave this push-pull relationship.

They are ancient, they are used to a certain level of cruelty, and their morals are flexible. Besides,  they have thick skin and don't care about certain words or violence. They are and always will be opposites, that's how they operate, their role in the world, and how they feel comfortable acting, because that's what built their identities up and carved their name in history.

(BTW if their hate was really deep and vicious, they would use Canada and America against each other, and the lack of shippers of frus and engcan tells me that maybe people do get that deep down they don't hate each other.)

They're also sadomasochistic in complementary ways. They both enjoy causing each other pain.

As I see it, France is more of an emotional sadomasochist; he finds real pleasure in humiliating people, and tears can be aphrodisiac in beautiful individuals, so it's a treat when he can't wrap someone in his fingers, and England doesn't give him that pleasure. He also enjoys feeling pain; he is that one individual who abides by the rule that the most pleasure can only be obtained with a certain amount of pain, and he does love teasing but can't handle it himself. Who else can fulfil his inner desires? Even those he will never admit he has? England will because he sees who he really is underneath his well-made web. England can make him feel his own poison, and as much as it's infuriating, it makes him addicted to more, and he won't deny himself that pleasure. (No pleasure goes to waste for that guy)

England craves something more physical and cathartic, so he enjoys when the other presses and doesn't give up when he doesn't give them the pleasure of showing his pain (he is too proud, really). He also has a sharp tongue that hurts people without his intent, so he needs someone who loves himself enough to not break with his vitriolic words (France loves himself too much to believe his words). England also enjoys hurting and being hurt; it can be relieving and usually clears his mind, as little does. Besides, it's a win-win situation because France also looks his best trying to contain his tears at his feet and is amazing at teasing England until he breaks down without taking advantage because he prides himself on being a good lover above all, even his own desires sometimes, which can be reassuring to someone as jaded as England.

There's also the fact that he does enjoy playing the game. England enjoys mental games, and this is pretty much an even one; sometimes he breaks, sometimes France breaks, which will never cease to be a motivator to keep it up despite that nasty fact that France enjoys reasons to do things, emotions, and all that crap. France is invested; he finds it fascinating in several ways and longs to be the one to really understand England or make him fall for him, whichever comes first (he lacks self-awareness sometimes for such a self-proclaimed wise nation). And England is, underneath all his bitterness, a little romantic, so he quite enjoys being pursued, so why not? At least the frog is one of the best-looking nations, despite his many flaws. (I will admit I don't really portray England as tsundere as the anime makes him but the fact still is that he will never be open about his desires, will never be dovey and sweet as France wished him to be but France kind of grew to like that part of him too, despite not being cute)

I could also add the fact that they're both dominant. That's another point of contempt but also complimentary; I'm simply in love with the idea that they switch up and France is that annoying dominant bottom who uses England as he wishes, not really realising that England quite likes being used like that (cough, cough, English vices). They never win with each other because they end up unwillingly giving each other reasons to keep up.

France calls it fate, England his curse. Either way, they'll always be connected by history, geography, and even humanity.

I rambled my way around the point, but the thing is, they enjoy this game, and yes, it can be tiresome.

Sometimes they really need to step out and give it a rest, but they're both confident enough to know it's temporary. They'll cool down when things get too bad and then call each other to gossip about something and find each other in the same bed in a single day, not really knowing how but thinking that yes, they actually missed that annoying guy.

Personally, I don't see them fighting all that much, but they do know where to poke to provoke, and France is usually the one poking because he needs drama in his life, and England gets bored easily, so he needs a push to keep lively, but they do know where to stop. (England goes along with it because it suits him and everything is boring; he keeps thinking too much, and this way he's engaged in something that's not self-destructive for once. France just lives for the movie life the drama queen)

So, they don't fight as much as you'd think; it's mostly for show because they need to be the antagonist force, and it's mostly about their differences in handling things and views that usually don't stray all that far, so it's reserved for their nationhood things. The fact that in Canon France demands to fight/argue with Germany also adds to my view, because who will counter him now? (He needs that voice of reason/oposition/ there; it's just unnatural to not have it there.)

So yeah, it can be tiresome, but in a comforting way. Is that a good reason to ship them? Maybe not, but there's no doubt they make a compelling case. Be it hate or love, they're not indifferent to each other, and that's a fact.

Sorry for the long rant but I've received like 3 questions about fruk and I joined most points here.

[pinkandpurple360]

(I promise I'm going somewhere hopefully more positive than usual with this, just wanted to start w/that.)

There's this thing called The Narcissist's Prayer that goes like this:

That didn't happen. And if it did, it wasn't that bad. And if it was, that's not a big deal. And if it is, that's not my fault. And if it was, I didn't mean it. And if I did, you deserved it.

And it's increasingly mapping onto Stolas & the illogical reasoning used to defend him.

That didn't happen. (he never sexually coerced Blitzo through a deal made when he was in danger, or made him feel like all he wanted was sex. Blitzo is just prejudiced against royalty!)

And if it did, it wasn't that bad. (even if the deal was maybe slightly questionable it wasn't that bad for Blitzo to have to sleep with someone he's been consistently frustrated by. he even says he isn't fussed about it; he's totally not compartmentalizing being treated like a sexual object to avoid having to think about how awful it is)

And if it was, that's not a big deal. (they're in Hell! People do bad things all the time! Just look at the way Asmodeus also sexually exploits Fizz - oh wait, he doesn't?)

And if it is, that's not my fault. (Stolas is a sad uwu bird who can't be held responsible for anything he does despite being a literal prince. he's a powerless passenger in his own life; he said as much in the song where he decided Blitzo was the one lying to him despite doing nothing but uphold his end of the bargain Stolas forced him into)

And if it was, I didn't mean it. (Stolas didn't know it was wrong to extort sex from someone lower class than him in exchange for his livelihood! He, the prince who was forced into an arranged marriage he never wanted, can't be expected to understand that it's bad to for a sexual relationship to be founded on coercive force, even though that environment doomed his own marriage from the start. And if Stolas didn't understand that it's sexual coercion, it no longer counts as such! He certainly never meant to make Blitzo think he's a sex object despite nearly every line towards him until episode 7 being exactly that… so it doesn't count)

And if I did, you deserved it. (Blitzo hurt Stolas' feelings by not loving him, therefore he deserves to be told off and not have his feelings validated or even heard. According to some fans, Blitzo deserves to be menaced and abused by Stolas until he begs for his forgiveness - or his mercy. And most yucky of all, since the status quo is fine then it follows imps deserve whatever abuse - physical or sexual - Stolas feels like doling out then deluding himself he isn't doing. And Blitzo isn't allowed to have a one night stand without becoming responsible for the obsession Stolas hits him with after)

I know some have said Stolas is Viv's self-insert and project all his baggage onto her, saying she ticks the boxes of NPD and etc.

I'm going to be blunt - I think it's always deeply inappropriate to diagnose someone with anything through a screen. Period, end of. We've seen where this leads with much bigger celebrities - people projecting all sorts of things onto them and the conversation going nowhere and instructing no one, with conditions like 'narcissist' becoming meaningless buzzwords and everything Viv does or says read in the worst possible light. I don't agree with the firing of the pilot VAs, but I think hate obsessions benefit no one.

So in the interests of being instructive, I'll keep it simply to this. I think Stolas shows some narcissistic traits, but what makes him abusive is his inability to recognise them & limit the harm he does.

And I think he's much better served as a lesson to all budding writers out there - if you want to make a sudden swerve with an antagonistic/villainous character but they came out of the gate doing something reprehensible and arguably don't deserve the forgiveness of their victim, you need to put in the work to show how they've changed.

And if it's meant to be a mutually toxic thing, it's better to put a pairing on equal social ground rather than trying to convince an audience that a royal character (with servants who are literally the same species as the hero) has no advantage over the hero whatsoever, because anyone paying a bit of attention is going to immediately feel the dissonance of that

Will let this anon speak for itself response down below

Denial is a hell of a drug, mix that with arrogant tendencies and a lack of understanding of right and wrong, and you get this mess. And I’m sorry to say that Vivienne Medrano shows no clear comprehension to what sexual abuse truly looks like or how deeply it damages, how essential power dynamics are to the scenario, and even in some cases, what’s wrong with it if the victim already has lots of sex and is a thief.

Even having a line like “when this happens it’s not something I fuss about” is sexual abuse rationalising. A flirtatious sexually promiscuous person is only just mildly inconvenienced by unwanted sex. To them, they exist for it, and it’s as big a deal as doing five jumping jacks to them. They just sometimes blush in embarrassment and say “ok I guess this is happening” and they’re cute when they resist(?) idk.

Disclaimer I want to add to: if you enjoy this character of stolas and find him comforting, you’re completely valid in that and you aren’t a bad person in any way, at the end of the day he is fictional and the writing very much encourages you to ignore morals like consent and to find the over the top lust and SA funny. And the writing and emotional music is very strongly prodding and coaxing you to feel this way for him despite the red flags. So I’m sorry if some of this comes as a shock and is upsetting, you aren’t the only one.

Please ☹️ if you would identify as a stolas fan don’t feel discouraged or alienated by my posts I promise it’s not something I’ll be hostile to you for.

But stolitz in the canon web series will always be a mean spirited “proship” because of everything said here by the anon and the effect it’s had on its audience is extremely negative. The weirdest part is the person who wrote it apparently does not think coercion and abuse of power for sexual gain is really “that bad” and it’s in my opinion very emotionally manipulative of a writer to the audience of many young and lgbt people to use the pain repressed gay men have felt, to excuse sexual abuse in narrative.

I feel like this anon is completely correct in everything it says…this characters writing has done massive damage to the way it’s viewers comprehend abuse and relationships, and has given them countless victim blaming arguments and defenses and sympathy for real life sexual predators that society really does not need. There was already too much “he should have said no” and “what was he wearing” arguments in the world.

And it’s a classist, victim blaming narrative absolving a white rich male character of his own vices and scapegoating a poorer character who was formerly enslaved by this man’s family, and scapegoating through this man’s wife who is a sexist caricature of how misogynists view “gold digger” women, and,,, even his completely innocent teenage child. We can’t ignore that. Literally all she had to do to make an authoritarian British male more sympathetic than women children and impoverished people was say “he’s gay and sad” and it’s praised as a progressive queer and even leftist somehow.

I think you’re one of the first people I’ve heard say that stolas sexual obsession is no one’s fault but his own. Because he had it before blitzø broke into his house and gave him pity sex. NOT after it.

I mean, they even think he’s entitled to abandon his daughter. There’s a false dichotomy of leaving Octavia and being with his obsession, or staying married to Stella, which is nonsense. There’s a life outside of these two people.

Some audience members are even confused and still rationalising his actions as a villains, using the highlighted “it’s hell” excuse.

These two screenshots are probably the worst of the narcissists prayer obsession. There is no genuine love or partnership or care here. Stolas wants, and he has suffered, so he is entitled to it and shall get.

And yeah, realistically a victim of a mutually coercive sexual relationship might have some understanding that it’s not good to force it on someone else. But stolas genuinely does not feel that empathy, he is very self interested and very self fascinated. And the narrative will reward him time and time again because of his apparent cuteness.

[texas-bbq-pringles]

obligatory long sappy post ahead

(cw// brief discussions of pet death, family death, ed recovery, toxicity, and suicidal ideation)

2023 was full of some amazing highs and absolutely horrific lows. i've had some amazing times with some amazing friends, gotten to see some of my favourite artists, amd had a pretty successful first year at a university i was told not to apply to because i'd be wasting an application. i've become absolutely obsessed with two bunnies that are full of character and absolutely adorable, honestly they're quite therapeutic to just be near. i'm so thankful for that. but i've also struggled a lot this year. my family lost two bunnies, my nanna passed, and i nearly relapsed after about 6 years of struggling with disordered eating. and then it became impossible to process that because immediately after i had to live with the same person that nearly made me relapse and deal with a lot of bullshit from them.

in june i put a song i liked a few years ago on a playlist while i travelled to visit my sister, and decided to listen to another song by the same artist. what started off as a need to listen to that song on repeat very quickly spiralled into a hyperfixation, and i'm so glad i found greta van fleet when i did. their music helped me distract myself and just feel a little bit happier when things got really bad this year, and i've met some amazing and beautiful souls because of them. i don't want to say that they saved my life because i wouldn't be anywhere near as okay as i am without the support from my friends and family, but they've definitely helped me avoid getting to the point i was at when i lost my grandad, and i never want to get to that point again. i doubt i'll ever get to say thank you to their faces so i'm putting this thank you to them out there so it at least exists.

i also want to give a massive thank you to the lovely people on here who never fail to put a smile on my face (whether i knew you before getting a tumblr or not). a massive shoutout to @oats-enthusiast @stardustvanfleet @sanguinebats @babygirljake @via-fm @kenobicoffee @nessie-stardust @sinsofstardust @sulkyrie and so many more mutuals that i genuinely cannot list you all. just know if we are mutuals, even if we've rarely interacted, i love you so much and every time i see your posts or your name in my notifications i start smiling like an idiot. thank you for being you and letting me be me. here's to a better 2024 🩷🩷

[piracytheorist]

What's your hot take opinion on Sxf ?

Oh boi this is probably gonna upset a lot of people and even some mutuals but. I don't think Damιanya will be canon.

And look, this comes from how I view fiction. I adore looking for Author's Intent, and that can include both positive and critical analysis. By that I mean, I like taking a work of fiction and analyse characters and scenes and gestures etc., but also, if you give me a work of fiction that is written from a bigoted point of view, I can spend hours looking into all the ways the author inserted their bias and political views into it.

That is to say, most of the time I'm not into "fixing" stuff or imagining ways a work of fiction can go according to how I would like it to go. Hence why most of the fanfic I write is mostly character and dynamic exploration rather than AUs and canon divergence that ignores canon stuff I didn't like. Not that I find it wrong to do that, everyone enjoys fiction and creates derivatives of that in their own way. But to make sense of my post here, I needed to present how I work when I consume media.

So. I am asexual, most possibly also aromantic, I can count on one hand the times I shipped a fictional couple, and I cringe every time a film or show that's not in the romance genre has the male and female lead become a couple, cause god forbid they go through an Experience™ together and keep things platonic.

Anyway, people are free to ship what they want to ship, and I'm in no way an impartial judge or the ultimate analyst, but I don't believe Anya and Damian will become a couple, even if they're aged up. Part of that comes from the fact that in well-written fiction everything happens for a reason. The reason I believe Twiyor will be canon is because it will give Twilight the experience of a real romantic relationship after having to fake those for his missions, and it can give Yor confidence in a relationship whether she's openly intimate or not.

If Anya is paired with Damian, I can see how it can help Damian have narrative development, but how will it help Anya? What is her character missing that a romantic relationship with him can provide? And if the relationship only provides development for him, then it will be unbalanced and maybe even one-sided as far as the narrative is concerned. And Anya deserves better than that. Her dynamic lies with her parents (especially when it comes to identity reveals), Bond (with her ability to see the future through him and her becoming more responsible through taking care of him), Becky (a friend that makes her feel confident to be herself and whom Anya can help open up), and whenever Endo decides to take it there at some point, the scientists who practically created her and her powers.

I'm not saying Damian will only be a hurdle and a burden to her. But honestly, she has way more dynamics and stuff going on about her for the story to force her into an "I can fix him" narrative with her bully.

And when it comes to Damian... I honestly think he has more to earn if they DON'T become a couple especially after Anya finds out about his feelings for her. Damian is growing up rich, privileged, and neglected, so he's turned into a brat and a bully who thinks is above everyone and everything. He needs (and deserves) physical affection and compassion, but he also needs to know he can grow from his toxic behavior. Fixing him of that and immediately throwing him into the relationship he craves is, frankly, an easy pass. It's not a romantic relationship, or even close friendship he needs. It's familial affection and connection. The former might help but it won't fix the issue. Again, that's very biased of me because I was bullied by kids like Damian when I was little, so the thought of me becoming interested in them after all the abuse because "they got fixed" is... unwelcome, to say the least :)

And all that's putting aside the fact that they're fucking six years old. Anya probably younger than that. But even if they're older and suitable for a romantic relationship, it's still not something that can, narratively, bring them what they need.

In my view, making Damian have a crush on her is not to lead them into a romantic relationship (at a later point because again, they're SIX) but it's to give him depth and a layered dynamic with Anya besides Anya wanting to approach him for the sake of Operation Strix. Endo made things so Anya has a lot of hurdles on her way towards that, and a spoiled bully who is fighting his own feelings for her out of spite and ends up bullying harder is only part of those hurdles.

Eventually, how I think their dynamic will go is Anya finding out about his feelings, going like "Oh that makes sense but I don't see you that way" and Damian accepting that, while he grew into a more respecting person who doesn't burst out his frustrations on innocent peers, his reward for that won't be the romantic relationship he wants, because hey, there shouldn't be a "reward" for actually becoming a decent human being :) And they stay friends who support each other.

Ending this by saying everyone is free to ship what they want to ship and that this is only my view that is influenced by my lack of interest in romantic stories and my still-prominent scars from having been a bully victim for years. I only watch the anime, but the setup I've seen in the story is enough for me to consider that this is where their dynamic will go. You might disagree and that's okay, the cool thing in fandoms is people being able to offer different points of view, but please don't reblog this just to have pointless fandom fights with me.

[poisonousquinzel]

see, it's scenes like this that make me so beyond angry about the direction they took this arc in Season 3, and is one of the main reasons why I can not bring myself to give a single shit about anything this show does anymore.

Like I used to at least pay attention for Harley and Ivy's stuff and their relationship arc, cause I'm frankly not a huge fan of the humor or the writing for a lot of parts (but y'all know I will typically put up with a lot for Harley content) (not to mention all the other issues the shows got) but everything I've seen and watched about Season 3 just insulting to the severity of Harley's story. Namely because of all the shit they decided to pull with this bleached eyesore and his idk not redemption redemption arc. It's disgusting. Who the fuck cares what his politics are?!?

And this is just so out of character for Ivy?? What the hell??

She. Was. Fucking. Murdered. By. Him.

Why does it feel like that Fact been brushed off as just a silly thing to have no hard feelings over?? She literally died. He fucking harpooned her through the heart and she died in Harley's arms.

Why is she gossiping about their shared little annoyances that've come from being in a relationship with Harley?? It's an invasion of privacy??

He's Harley's abuser and she's chatting with him like he's their mutual friend and this is just casual banter.

"Seriously dude? I'm not gonna do that thing where we commiserate over the person we've both dated."

And then she precedes to do exactly fucking that over Harley not breaking down a cardboard box. Wow, brava' there honey. you really stood your ground. Tf is with this characterization for her??

And like, instead of maybe bringing up this little pet peeve to her girlfriend in casual conversation, she'd rather get into a casual gossiping session with Harley's Abusive Ex Boyfriend where they're talking about all the little things that are just so bothersome apparently that she just has to confide in The Joker about it.

Like??????

Not to mention, but I'm sorry, the writers attempts to completely dismiss and gloss over Joker's real actions and the story they themselves fucking built up in Season 1 is so damn obvious.

"You know what I really loved about her though? The way she went along with whatever planned I asked her to do. Even when I knew she hated the idea."

"Well, you know, add that to the shit pile of reasons you were a toxic partner and a total narcissist."

I'm sorry? Toxic partner? is that all? just a toxic partner? is there not maybe a better, more descriptive and on the nose word for the type of man he was during his relationship with Harley? Like Abuser / Abusive Partner.

Because, news flash to the writers, there is and can be a difference between being toxic, having toxic traits, or a toxic outlook on relationships, and being abusive towards your partner.

and This is just minimizing the extensive list of shit he put her through and labeling it all as solely "toxic partner" behavior.

He's An Abuser Who's Shown No Remorse Towards His Victim.

Say the fucking word. It exists for a reason.

It's not "toxic", it's abuse. It was an Abusive Relationship. He was an Abusive Partner.

And Ivy knows that?!?!?!?!

Why is she sugarcoating shit???

"What Harley and I have is 100% different. We are equals. I'd never ask her to compromise herself like you did."

Like, Ivy could have put her foot down on that much, much clearer. Because it's almost like their relationship is different and it's biggest difference is not a simple "well I don't ask her to compromise herself."

But having Ivy say something like

"well, I'm not an abusive piece of shit who physically assaults her and berates her when she doesn't do what I want like you did throughout the entirety of your relationship because you're a narcissistic, abusive dickhead."

kinda brings up the fact that oh, right, Joker's a fucking domestic abuser,,, and boy do they seem to wanna forget that was the entire characterization for him in Season 1 because it doesn't fit his rushed, poorly done "redemption arc" where he did exactly nothing to deserve it, but got one anyway.

Cause, apparently, no one that gets ahold of Harley's character will just permanently kill the motherfucker and give him the karma he deserves.

[cosmicbrowniefan]

Okay so weird question, do you have any Will and El headcannons like 'siblings' wise? Because I just really like they're dynamic and I'm curious to what you think

do i have willel sibling headcanons. DO I HAVE WILLEL SIBLING HEADCANONS.

oh yes i do.

i will be referring to them as the twins btw because that is them. the twins. i love them so much. i love the twins. they are. my everything.

i think the two of them have their own secret language kind of? like how toddlers often figure out how to communicate with each other without using actual words. so i think the two of them have little hand signals and looks that they’ll give each other and know EXACTLY what they mean. i think they also have these sentences that seem totally normal to the outside listener but to each other they have hidden meanings. things like “what’s for dinner” mean “i want to leave”, stuff like that. and i think everyone kind of knows that they have this little language but they don’t even attempt to decipher it.

(this secret language drives hopper CRAZY btw)

the twins pretty much never argue. not in a toxic “stuff is unsaid” way, but in a “we just don’t have anything to argue about, our communication is very good” way

when the twins are first getting to know each other, they find out that they have a SHIT ton in common that they never even realized. they like the same foods, music, movies, games, etc. but they also have a healthy amount of differences!

we all know that will is really good at art, and when el learns this, she decides that she wants to find something that she’s good at too. so the twins go on a mission to try out a bunch of different hobbies to find something that el both loves and is good at! and it turns out that she’s amazing at chess and also has quite the green thumb

el and will start a small herb garden together when they realize how good she is at taking care of plants <3

also. dustin cannot believe how amazing el is at chess and gets lowkey jealous and trains himself up to try and beat her (just like mike trains himself to beat max at dig dug), but she’s still better than him lmao

the twins’ favorite disney movie is tangled and they sing every song as loudly as humanly possible when they watch it

which is at least once a week btw

when will passes his clothes on to el, the two of them decide to try and upcycle them and spice them up to make them more her style

they do that thing that max and el do at scoops ahoy where they’ll get food, have like half of it, and then switch with each other

they build a remote control helicopter together. just for funzies

el starts playing softball at school and is REALLY good at it, and she teaches will how to catch and hit pretty accurately

both el and will are pretty prone to nightmares, and when they get them, they go to the other’s room for comfort

if el has nightmares, will stays up reading to her, and if will has nightmares, el plays uno with him while telling him about her day

the books will reads to her are those fairy short chapter books, the “rainbow magic” fairy series? she loves them and these short chapter books actually help her learn to read and understand grammar a lot better

they have a joint birthday party every year (the twins had this idea mutually, they LOVE celebrating together)

thank you SO much for this ask, i loved writing this!! send me more asks for headcanons guys :)

[bl00dalchemist]

Definitely agree with the prev reply to that ask

They're toxic to each other!!! That's what makes it fun! Yeah Dottore has more power in the situation but that doesn't make Scaramouche innocent... plus Scaramouche definitely asked Dottore to experiment on him, it fits with everything else about the guy

Mutually using each other for your own benefit... that's the dynamic

Sorry if this was annoying I'm very passionate about these toxic gay men

No no, speak louder.

Some people just couldn't get over the fact that dottore is fucking evil as shit in the most entertaining way and decided he's the root of all evil.

Scaramouche has killed, he gets a kick out of others' suffering, the fatui troops would rather NOT be under his command bc he's downright mean. Even as he's being reformed he kept such an attitude lmao. Everyone just decided he's a sweetiepie (ew) because he cares in a minimum grade for kids and is trying to do better.

[toxic-ship-tournament]

ROUND 1 / SIDE A / POLL 5

Li Minshan x Ji Shenchi x Dai Raoshui ( @rosencrantzsguildenstern ) vs Crowcaw x Leora ( @honeydoe12 )

who makes up your ship?:

Li Minshan, Ji Shenchi, & Dai Raoshui

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

Friends who stage a coup together stay together... you would think! Basically, all three of them are power-hungry bastards who are just good at it to different degrees. Li Minshan sucks at it, so he gets to be their overworked secretary who hates his life, while Ji Shenchi and Dai Raoshui both know what the other is about but hide it behind layers of flattery and obfuscation. Ji Shenchi is also obsessed with Li Minshan and this concept of him being a traitor- there's this scene I've written where they're drinking together, but they're BOTH faking it because they're worried about their drinks being poisoned. The intricate rituals of it all... Anyway, Shenchi and Raoshui are both nominally in charge and their power struggles have insane amounts of tension and passive-aggressiveness. Fucking would not solve any of their problems, but the sexual tension is so high it's impossible for me to imagine that at least one pair of them hasn't slept together at least once. They never resolve any of this, and in their pursuit of becoming more powerful and better than they were, they devolve enough into petty backstabbing that all they've gained over the course of the story slips from their grasp and all of the other loved ones they 'did this for' hate them now. OT3 &lt;3

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

i got nothing, but the story is called true immortals so u could tag w that

****

who makes up your ship?:

Crowcaw and Leora

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

Leora is the queen of paranoia and Crowcaw is the king of guilt. Their backstory, in short is that their country is ruled under a corrupt theocracy of angel-like creatures known as Prophets. Leora's mom, Soleil, was a revolutionary working to change it, and was killed for it. Crowcaw was chosen to become the newest addition in hundreds of years, and didn't learn about their corrupt nature until years into being one. They were childhood friends and had mutual crushes on each other before everything went south. Leora ran off into hiding and pledged to take them down, and Crowcaw found her. They decided to work together to take it down and be a couple :) Unfortunately, Leora is incredibly scared of Crowcaw even with how much she cares for him. She feels like he'll kill her one day, and constantly keeps track of ways to incapacitate and kill him if it arises. A god killing knife in her dresser, spell sheets under her pillows, and making sure she always goes to bed after him and wakes up before. Crowcaw is aware of this, and just... pretends to be oblivious. He can't do anything about it. He can't confront her, and he has blood on his hands so he feels it's warranted (she doesn't know this). When Leora learns he killed someone, she absolutely loses it. She panics harder than she ever has, and sees him as an immediate, dangerous threat. So, she sneaks in while he sleeps, and kills him, unaware that in doing so she becomes a prophet just like he was. QED Leora and Crowcaw are in love, but Leora's fears prevent her from trusting him and . Crowcaw doesn't think he deserves better, and never fights her on it, or anything. Bada bing bada boom, like all good fictional relationships it ends in stabbing.

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

There's some in my #honeyart tag on my tumblr page, and this video here https://youtu.be/ZFs63kmu_hU

[katyspersonal]

People really have nothing better to do with their life? Unbelievable. They need to get a better hobby. Those last dm are really not necessary it’s so bad. They even dare to bring your friends in all of this mess. Take care, you deserve it.

I agree that the lengths they go through to try and kick someone out of the fandom are absurd, and yeah, I really do not understand what gets under their skin so hard that someone is still active in the fandom? I mean, Marble said "she tries to insert herself back into fandom by sending people nice asks :(((" which is honestly the most hilarious thing I've heard yet. Fandom is more than just their entitled toxic furry jerk-off circle! Who appointed HER to decide who "belongs" in the fandom and who doesn't? It is a free space!

All in all, people like that don't care about what is "necessary". They have a lot of pent-up aggression and latch onto any justification to mistreat another human being. It is specific kind of western community leeches that can't care less about anyone's mental state, whether they're sorry or not, that will hold something you did year(s) ago against you for all eternity, that see resolving a problem with another person in "removing" them instead of offering any sort of healing, communication and patience. No one on this wretched Earth owes anyone anything, of course, but the worst part? They will treat those that DO try to help one they deemed worthy of mistreatment as a "traitor". Why are you helping the """bad""" guy to recover and reassume their place in the society? You are supposed to spend this time and energy on the """good""" guys who already have everything!

The best red flags for such people even before you ever got into a conflict with them is if they express unambiguous sadistic glee when they "pissed someone off" in a [insert a community], if the see making people angry as "accomplishment", and also if they go far just to spite someone who upset them. Normal human beings like me or you do not see any honour in causing negative emotions, and even if our enemies are seething deep down we think 'damn, we really had to be enemies?' instead of feeling """victorious""" somehow. You see 'sadistic glee' = you know this person will be unhinged if you become enemies, simple as that. Even fandomry activity can expose that sort of attitude!

As for my friends... Again, I am as guilty about bringing them into the situation as my enemies are. I should not have mentioned the names in private convos ever. And in general, for the last part, you really should not feel all that bad for me... You see, I am an idiot. Despite my paranoid vibes never failing me, I still keep calming myself down and wrestling with my mind instead of trusting them, despite the fact that not even ONCE they failed me! Like... I just had a feeling that A. never forgave me despite her nice words, so why did not I fucking listen to my guts? I really want to act surprised that she saw an opportunity to get back at me when I already was staggered after lying about being "chill"?

Anyways, thank you for letting me talk about it (and other anon(s), too). If I continue getting this sort of attention, I might stop responding because if venting overstays its welcome it becomes COUNTER-productive, but just know that I appreciate the concern and common sense. And yeah, @ mutuals: again, if any of you feels unsafe publicly associating with me because of those people, you can inform me so I do not do asks/reblogs/comments and only talk in private. I am not a type of a guy that alters my behaviour because my enemies decide it for me, but when COOL people do not feel safe it WILL concern me.

[battyblus]

So I finished Fionna and Cake and I've just been trying to unscramble my thoughts about the theme of Love in this 10 ep series because it's very interesting. It could be better, but what can you do with 10 eps. For what was given, it wasn't that bad. Under the cut will be rambles and vague spoilers so like read it at your own risk, it's a lot.

Anyway, Love in some of it's forms (platonic and romantic) - can be a fortune as much as it is a tragedy. Love can be a blessing or a curse. It can spiral you into madness, into sadness, into a cycle of always finding your soul mate in every universe, etc. Of course the main duo is Simon and Betty - where love becomes an obsession. Betty endured all of Simon's obliviousness, all of his decisions, all of his choices because to her, he was the best experience she could have. Love changed her and she let it. Love made her sacrifice everything and she was more than willing, regardless of if it was what Simon wanted. But with Simon, Betty was his everything and her sacrifice meant losing himself too and falling into madness and sadness because even as Ice King he was powerless to get her back. And based on every universe he went through, he was never meant to get her back which sure can drive a man further into depression when he feels like his only purpose is to get the love of his life back. Everything Betty did was for Simon and he realized that despite them both being equally obsessed, they were never on equal footing. What do you do when you love someone so much but in every reality your love ends in tragedy? You learn that you can't make one person your whole world. Loving one person can't be your everything but it can be a wonderful experience that you hold in your heart and your memory. Love is letting go so you can heal.

And then of course there's the smaller plot of Bonnie/Marcy + Gary/Marshall - They're two sides of the same coin where (queer) obsession can lead to destruction and (queer) love being the guiding light away from the abuse they started from. What is love if not taking a loved one away from their abusive home and telling them that you would love them despite it all, no matter what form they took and who they became. What is love if not mutually assured destruction, deciding that if the world will end, they will die together because they refuse to let the other die by anyone else's hand. If you are fated to find each other in every universe, wouldn't you want to make the best of it (whether that's toxic or not)?

But then there's the smaller moments that aren't highlighted as much - Fionna and Cake's relationship and how much they love each other. Multiple times Cake was willing to risk it all to save Fionna or keep them moving forward and every time Fionna would reprimand or stop her - not because the ideas were bad (more or less) but because Fionna didn't want to lose her best friend. Yes Fionna had been depressed for majority of the series (especially after the Winter King ep) but it's not until Cake lashes out does she actually just start bawling. There's so much loss and having the one constant at your side can have one mistaking love for control and not the desperation it really was for Fionna.

ANYWAY there are a lot of interesting moments in this series that I do wish were fleshed out more but again, what can you do about it. I've also typed myself in a circle and don't know if this makes sense but that doesn't matter. I know the vibe I'm getting at.

[nuatthebeach]

Hey, what are your thoughts on romoine? Please do share

Hi again!

Romione is not my favorite couple, obviously, so I don't really read much fanfic/meta about them since they're pretty transparent as a couple and thus don't really have much about them that's left unexplored that I'm interested in talking about.

But I really do love them together as a couple and - no matter how many AU fics I read - can't for the life of me see them with other people. (Not saying it's not possible or that others shouldn't multi-ship, just saying I personally can't. Same for Hinny for me.)

I love the dynamic push-and-pull that Ron and Hermione have, the friction in their fights and make-ups, the words that are more often said than unsaid (lol), and most importantly, the realism that their arc exemplifies.

They do not follow the soulmate storyline, they do not always understand each other in every little interaction, they do not always get it right the first time around, but this is what makes them real and visceral and present, and they are willing to fight for themselves and their relationship always. They are willing to do better.

I remember the harsh discourse they received as a result of that JKR & Emma Watson interview ages ago, when couple's therapy was brought up as one "terrible" thing the couple might be facing. I remember the backlash and the triumph that Harmony fans had when they thought this meant that JKR was regretful for creating the entire pairing altogether and by default suggesting that Harry and Hermione would ride off into the sunset on a hippogriff and their kids could finally be rid of the dreaded, tainted redhair gene for all time and conveniently forgetting the fact that Harry has his own choices in the matter and even if Hermione did choose him that wouldn't mean he would choose her, but who cares if "Harry and Hermione are true equals" and "it's as much Hermione's journey as it is Harry's" anyways as stated by E.W. herself, right?

I apologize if that brought back scary memories; it did for me too.

Bottom line is, Ron and Hermione are not doomed even if JKR wasn't full of shit (rare hypothetical scenario, I know) and they do need couple's therapy. In fact, I even headcannon this because of their willingness to atone for their mistakes after their fights and be a better version of themselves than before even if we only really have canon evidence of Ron doing this more than Hermione. I am a firm believer that being honest and vulnerable with one another is the bravest thing anyone can do, and most can't even realize that these days without throwing around the word "toxic" (for fictional relationships of all things), undermining the relationships that actually should be labeled as such (...I would name some, but I've decided I don't want to instigate anything today, so I won't).

So, yes. I do think Romione is a great couple. Yes, I do think they may need therapy. These concepts are not always mutually exclusive.