#but I can tell it's pretty huge based on... based on shit I see... based on this attack

[medicinemane]

Also listen... I'm hesitant to talk about this just cause of my whole preferring not to talk too much about current events cause I know you all already know, but I gotta say something at at least... like for my own sake on this one

What happened in Boulder is terrible, and... I don't know... shouldn't even need saying, but with the amount of antisemitism I'm seeing these days I at least have to do the bare minimum and say that much

You don't get to kill people just because you disagree with them, even if they're truly horrible you don't

I've been worried about antisemitism on the left for years and... it's coming out in exactly the ways I was fearing all the way back in like 2015

You can criticize the Israeli government with being antisemitic, I actually think it's pretty easy. You say something like "I think it's wrong to bomb hospitals and I think Israel needs to stop", and I did that without having to bring up Jews at all

At a certain point you have to ask, are you fighting for peace? Are you fighting for an end to suffering and senseless death? ...cause I'm not so sure, with way too many people these days I'm just not so sure that's the major focus anymore

Grew up knowing a lot of Jewish people, so I'm not Jewish and at the end of the day I'm safe from any antisemitism... I'm not the one at risk here and any time I wanted I can just shut up and I'm not effected... I know that about me. But even though it's been so many years, was close to enough Jews growing up that antisemitism fucking eats at me, and I gotta say something

You've got people literally just... existing, living their lives... what the hell are you doing bothering Jews for?

Final closing thoughts?

You're not immune to antisemitism. I'm not immune to antisemitism. Even Jewish people aren't immune to it. None of us are immune to being bigoted or hateful. Just because you're coming at things from a good place, a place of love, a place of caring... it doesn't make you immune. In fact, a lot of times love is exactly what gets twisted around till it's a justification for horrible things. You've gotta be careful. Care more about protecting Gazans than hurting or punishing people... like they need help and we gotta do what we can

Second is that you can criticize a government without needing to rip in to everyone in a country. You got anything going on in your country that your government is doing that you don't like? ...yeah, those bastards kinda have a way of doing that, don't they?

Rip the hell into the Israeli government. I don't talk about much other than Ukraine, cause frankly I'm just way more informed on Ukraine and... I think I'm more at risk of saying something stupid than useful here, that's why I tend to shut the hell up, but I mean... Israel's military reminds me way too much of russia's and you have to understand to me there's few worse insults (it's the bombing hospitals that really does it)

But man... what's wrong with you if you're acting like every Jew in the world is responsible for the Israeli government? Not even every Israeli is responsible. They're not a monolith just like you're not a monolith with your government

Focus your anger on who deserves it and stop catching Jews in the crossfire (and if you already do that, then that's real good news to me)

Just seeing way too much antisemitism lately, and way way way too much of it on the left. I can't take it, I can take seeing that growing in my own backyard, you know? If I were gonna convert to anything, it would be Judaism, I feel a connection and I had a lotta friends growing up, so I can't take seeing all this shit

So sincerely, all I'm asking is you look at yourself and make sure you're not sliding into being hateful. That's it... and if look and think maybe you are... don't be doubling down out of shame, get that I'm here telling you that could be me too. There's a line that'll work on all of us if we're not careful, what matters is you catch yourself and work to do better

Anyway... haven't wanted to make this post cause I hate putting too much negative stuff on people's dash, but... man... I can't take it anymore and I gotta say something

Cause it eats at me

[3liza]

after meaning to get around to it for years i finally listened to almost the entirety of Sold a Story and it is as groundbreaking as everyone says it is. it's also the most confusing, to me, single event in American culture in my lifetime and my reasons for thinking that are pretty complex so im not sure theyre fully formed yet. there's a list of shit in this podcast that made me feel like i was going insane

i KNEW something was going on at a population level, i've been noticing it for years, people kept telling me i was imagining things, but i was RIGHT, two generations of kids have been reduced to barely-literate levels of language function because of this shit and you CAN see it and hear it while talking to people in the world!

the entire adoption of the Calkins programs in the first place were based on the majority of people responsible for American child education deciding basically overnight that "children don't need to learn phonics in order to become strong readers" which is literally and not figuratively equivalent to saying "children can learn algebra without learning what numbers are". it is so self-evidently false i dont even know how to respond to such an assertion. you have to be fundamentally devoid of common sense to think this is true. language is comprised of sounds (phonemes), sounds are represented by letters, letters make up the alphabet, the alphabet makes up words, and words make up sentences. you cant just skip over the parts of this you dont like, it's the basis of our entire civilization. "i dont need to learn individual notes i just want to play to saxophone" okay well. too bad? you cant

american primary education apparently has no communication whatsoever with the scientific fields of human behaviorism, pediatrics, neurology, linguistics, the science of learning generally, and there is next to zero communication between teachers who are actively responsible for educating children and the entire research field of educating children. they just dont talk to each other, at least in huge swaths of the country. in retrospect this is obvious, i just have been assuming incorrectly this entire time that maybe, surely, some aspect of how our public schools are administered is in some way being guided by scientific evidence and research. this has apparently not been the case for 20+ years. Lucy Calkins herself claims she "didn't know" that the research on how children acquire language had been essentially settled by the 1990s, she just wrote her stupid book based on her own self-assurance that what she THOUGHT children were doing when they learned language was correct. she ddin't check, she didnt ask about research or studies, she didn't test her hypothesis, she just told everyone she had figured out how to teach kids to read based on nothing but her own untested assumptions. and everyone was like "okay sounds good". every single person involved in this process is or was in a position of responsibility for educating american children. and almost none of them thought to ask "okay, but have you tested it? does it work?" because they didn't test it, and it doesnt work, and for some reason that was never even brought up

teachers kept being interviewed on this podcast who kept saying things like: "they never taught us how to teach children to read" and "they didn't teach us how children learn so i had no idea how it worked" and then explaining this was why they were so easily hoodwinked by the Calkins program. i don't understand this. what is actually taught during the two year degree programs at teaching colleges? if it's not child psychology, pedagogy, neurology, and actual techniques for teaching children, what are they teaching you to do there? one of my friends who went to a teaching college told me they mostly provided classes on lesson planning.

individual teachers apparently are not reading books or articles or papers on any of these subjects either. so having graduated from a teaching college knowing nothing about children, teaching, or even basic english literacy ("i didn't know how to teach phonics and no one told me" is another thing actual teachers kept saying on the podcast. girl, SESAME STREET can teach basic english phonics, and it does), almost none of them actually do any investigation on their own. they just show up to their workplace (the school) and "teach" whatever admin hands them. ?????????????? how is this possible?

i realized last night in a fugue of post-exertional malaise that the three-cueing method of teaching reading is training children to approach language very similarly to how a large language model does it. they laboriously instruct the children to guess what the next word in a sentence will be, often by actually covering the word with a post-it note and then cajoling and badgering the child until he guesses the word under the post-it, based on the vibes on the sentence he's reading. this doesnt teach you to read, it teaches you to act like youre reading

this isnt directly addressed in the podcast but we used to just teach everyone english like it was an actual system that has parts and rules and structures, because that's what a language is. everyone would start with phonics and the alphabet, then later do stuff like sentence diagramming and grammar, neither of which have been taught in primary schools in decades. i think i was probably the very last generation of kids to get ANY of that stuff unless they went to an exceptional school, and it was only because my 8th grade teacher knew it was important and went against school admin's instructions in order to teach it. the couple days of sentence diagramming and grammar he gave us, out of SPITE, have been more useful to me in reading and writing than the entire rest of primary english education i received in public school, and i didn't even go to a school that had adopted three-cueing stuff yet.

[digitald0rk]

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* NERD ALERT ! [ 1 ]

pairing — mark grayson x gn!reader.

synopsis — in which mark falls for the new comic book store employee who matches his nerd [ and he hopes his freak too :3 ] and realizes he wants that effing cookie SO BADD.

warnings — super duper self indulgent! mark being mark, mention of blood like once. sappiness overload RAHHHH. not proofread.

w.c — 2.1 k.

a/n — this is part 1 btw, the second part's gonna be focused y'all's relationship. this is SO SO SLEF INDULGENT LMAO. i am that annoying little fly that keeps buzzing when it comes to my interests, my ass keeps going, "holy shit is that xyz reference???" :0 like GIRL STOP PULLING THESE REFERENCES OUT YO ASS 🤓 if you're like this too just know i think you're super based and awesomesauce gang :D BE ANNOYING ABOUT YOUR INTERESTS!! it's honestly so refreshing, anyways :p lemme know what you think of this!

taglist — @vm4879bb-blog [ lemme know if you wanna be added too ]

READ PART [ 2 ] HERE.

it was another normal ordinary day, he was just binging the new volumes of seance dog in his favorite little comic book store because being a superhero leaves no time for that, thank god he has some time off.

it was another normal ordinary day, that is until you walked in.

well more like look insanely good behind that cash register.

he asks himself, mind racing a mile a minute, how has he never noticed you before? are you a new employee? why the hell is his heart beating so fast? are you single?

the moment he sees you smile at some customer, he's doomed.

he has to talk to you. he has to-

oh god wait. he's been staring, hasn't he? no no no! what if you think he's some loser or worse a creep. [a weirdo what the hell am i doing hereeeee sorry had to lol]

and when your gazes meet for a split second, he whips his head away way too fast, if he wasn't a viltrumite he definitely would've gotten whiplash, his eyes immediately zeroing on the comic in his hand, which is actually upside down. not that he realizes because he's too busy thinking about how he'd love to get lost in your pretty eyes, he needs to get a grip, what is he fourteen?

it's just some dumb fleeting infatuation and-

then he hears a laugh. peeking up from the still upside down seance dog volume, hoping to god it's not your laugh because if it is, he longs to hear it again.

it was your laugh. oh he's in deep.

and he swears he's never heard a more beautiful thing. sap.

he needs to be the reason to make you laugh.

oh shit he's holding it upside down, hopefully you didn't notice (*_*;)

it takes him a whole ass week to muster up the courage to talk to you, he'd only check out with his new additions and issues when it wasn't your shift.

he's checked himself in the mirror a gazillion times, his hair looks okay, maybe he should've worn the blue shirt, it makes his eyes pop out-

he's mark grayson, he's invincible for fuck's sake.

still his palms grow sweaty as he approaches you to check out, little do you know he already has these volumes, he's just desperate to talk to you okay.

"hi." and great, his voice cracks.

but your sweet smile makes him forget about it. he watches you as you scan his items, typing away as you do so.

he kind of wants to hold your hand. is that bad?

"so, seance dog huh?" oh shit you're making conversation with him? oh my god calm down calm down calm down-

"yeah, it's uh one of my favs." he flashes a small smile, a nervous one.

"no way! same!" you beam at him, sheepishly showing him the small seance dog hair clip holding your hair in place like it's some sort of national treasure.

you're telling him that you, the cute comic book store employee he's been crushing on for weeks now, likes seance dog?

he's dreaming.

he has to be.

right?

then you say something, something only a huge seance dog fan would know.

and he swears he hears wedding bells, he can already see walking down the aisle.

it takes him a ridiculously long time to recover, eyes widening comically as he processes that this is infact not a dream.

"you okay there?" you ask slightly amused.

your voice breaks him out of that little trance you just unknowingly put him in, his eyes flitting to the name tag on your shirt-

he can't help himself from muttering your name, soft and reverent like a prayer.

a little flustered giggle leaves your mouth.

oh.

oh.

he made you laugh? he feels like he's on top of the world, he introduces himself, his smile widening when he shakes your offered hand.

william's gonna have a field day with this one.

after that one conversation, he's grown comfortable around you over the past few weeks.

and he's fallen even deeper in love.

he's less tense and awkward around you, rambling about everything and anything, conversation flows easily between you two now.

you'd call him the second you'd read the new volumes of your shared favorite comics to talk to him about it, he does the same.

he puts you on his favorite comics, you put him on yours along with whatever you're big into. it's a win-win really.

he's never been happier.

you make him feel so seen.

he doesn't feel the need to hide parts of himself from you. he loves when you buy him matching merch or just little trinkets of his interests.

rex made fun of mark's little italian charm bracelet once, because what do you mean the strongest man on the planet has a matching charm bracelet with all the things he loves on it that he always wears?

it actually broke the first time he wore it to a fight because obviously, what was he thinking? gets very sad when he can't find all the pieces to put it back together, asks cecil to remake it with some metal that won't break from the impact of alien attacks or whatever decides to mess with the peace of earth the next time. he gets all pissy when he gets blood on it :(

"aw that's adorable!" rex would tease him, but mark would just get all excited because he gets to talk about you <3

cue him rambling about all the things you made for him or got for him that align with his favorite pieces of media and interests, rex does NOT understand half of those words but hey as long as invinciboy's happy.

rex is not making that mistake again lol, also he thought you were dating mark because of the way his eyes turn into literal hearts whenever you're mentioned, so imagine the look on his face when mark's all bashful like, "nah i wish :(" rex goes, "man you two are so fucking oblivious." and he's right.

even outside of your little nerdy conversations and hang outs, when he comes to you for comfort, he feels safe.

and that — feeling safe, not being on edge 24/7 isn't easy for him, but you make it easier than breathing.

he feels loved when you hold him, rub his back and make some dumb joke when he's having a bad day.

he lives for the references you make out of nowhere.

"holy shit is that-" you start excitedly.

"i was just gonna say that!" he laughs.

pointing out things that he thinks are references to his favorite media and you joining him, this has to be love.

"why does that cloud lowkey look lik-" he starts and you finish his sentence for him, he laughs at how you two are almost always on the same wavelength.

once the secret is out that he's invincible, he'll literally just fly to some foreign country to get you what you want, oh what's that? a new figurine of your favorite anime just dropped? it's only available in japan? it's already yours <3 anything for you, he's whipped. [ god bless his bank account i imagine it's in negative LMAOOOO because his ass is definitely not letting u pay :( ]

and when you oh so sheepishly hand him the seance dog plushie you crocheted for him as his birthday present, muttering something along the lines of how "it's not good enough" or "it looks a little funny", i mean yeah seance dog has seen better days for sure where his eyes are the same size, he has to physically stop himself from kissing you senseless, because how dare you be this thoughtful and sweet.

yeah he's in love alright.

after a lot of restless nights and convincing from william, he finally decides to ask you out after six months of longing and yearning.

you two are currently in your room, hanging out. you had invited him over to watch the new reboot of your favorite sci fi series, although the internet seems to have a different plan as the video keeps buffering and loading.

you groan in annoyance, refreshing the page, still nothing.

so when you give up and let it do it's thing, aka the good ol "pretending not to care so it'll load faster", mark takes this as a sign.

"hey uh-" he opens his mouth, he's going to piss himself, he can't do this.

"yeah?" you reply. he sounds awfully nervous.

he stares at you, holding your gaze, lips slightly parted before taking a deep breath.

he ends up immediately blurting out the words he'd practiced a thousand times, "iloveyousomuch", his words are hurried as if he's scared you'll leave him if he's not quick enough.

he pauses, realizing this isn't exactly going to plan. he has just confessed his feelings, it's done now. there's no going back from this and that scares him.

he's also considering just making a run for it, or well fly for it, your window's open afterall.

he avoids your gaze like the plague, the ground suddenly very interesting.

he hesitantly adds, "i have for awhile now actually", might as well serve his heart on a silver platter to you it's all yours anyways, it beats for you, he thinks.

his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. he can't stop his mouth, it moves on it's own, "im sorry if- if this ruins our friendship i just-"

"i love you too mark", you can't help yourself from confessing back, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"i just can't do this, i can't be friends when everytime i look at you i want to ki-" wait.

it's actually adorable the way he looks at you all wide eyed when his brain finally processes what you said.

did you just say you love him back?

nope, that's just his terrible hearing that comes with being a superhero, all wishful thinking.

but the way you're looking at him tells him otherwise and your words only confirm that his hearing is perfectly fine.

"you were saying?" you tease him, daring him to finish that sentence.

thank god the teasing is back, this is familiar territory. his nerves calm down a bit.

a minute of silence passes before he speaks.

"so that just happened", he chuckles, he wants to be all suave and cool and say something that'll make you blush, but he can't.

he doesn't need to.

because that's not him, he's mark grayson, he's awkward, a sweetheart and a big nerd. he just needs to be himself to make you swoon.

you know this, he knows this.

he knows you accept him for who he is, so he doesn't think twice about leaning in when you reach out to cup his face, leaning in as well.

your acceptance, your love, you. that's all he needs.

and the moment your lips meet his he realizes those six months were worth it.

he gently pulls you closer by your waist, his touch hesitant, it takes all his power to not just pull you flush against him and show you just how much he adores you.

when you pull him closer by the neck, his toned chest brushing against yours, he has to stop from letting out a small pleased groan.

you're just as desperate as he is.

kissing you like this is dizzying, he can even taste the sweetness and slight tang of the strawberry dessert you two had shared earlier on your lips and it only serves to drive him crazier.

his body practically aches when you pull away, chasing your lips. he can't get enough.

"easy alien boy", you chuckle, trying to catch your breath — resting your forehead against his, nose scrunching a little when he kisses the tip of it, nuzzling his own nose against yours afterwards.

his smile is sickeningly sweet and contagious. "i love you", he whispers.

and when you whisper it back he giggles happily, pressing a kiss to your head - he pulls you in his warm embrace. relishing in the feel of your body against his, fitting like a missing puzzle piece.

it's like you were made for him.

a scream from the tv ruins the intimate atmosphere, ah so now it decides to load. you two stare at each other, a collective look of "are you seeing this shit" is exchanged before you two burst into laughter.

both of you could care less about the show playing on the tv, too busy indulging in long passionate sweet kisses.

"the new issue of batm-" you jokingly start against his now swollen lips.

"baby! we're kinda having a moment here", he scoffs playfully, the dumb lovesick smile on his face only widening.

"no but seriously the new issue sucked ass. they mischaracterized him sooo bad and-", he complains, not moving a centimeter away from your lips.

"and you're a nerd" you cut him off, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt for another kiss.

"hey that's friendly fire!" he hopes you'll always shut him up with a kiss <3

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal any of my works :[ thank you for reading, interactions are always appreciated and welcome! want more? click here ★

[missdynamighttt]

I can't stop thinking about huge cock husband! katsuki HELP MEEE

katsuki knew he was big — too big, honestly.

he could tell by the way you struggled to take him every single time, your pretty little body clenching around him like you were made for him, yet still fighting to adjust — even after marrying him.

and fuck, it drove him absolutely wild.

"no wonder you walk around like you own the place," you teased, sprawled out on the bed as katsuki stripped off his shirt.

your eyes shamelessly dragged down his sculpted chest — lingering far too long where his sweats hung low on his hips. "if i had a dick that big, i would too."

katsuki froze mid-motion, his head snapping toward you, a smug grin already tugging at his lips.

"yeah?" he drawled, stepping closer to the bed. "sounds like someone's jealous."

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "jealous? please. i just feel bad for you—must be hard walkin' around with all that weight between your legs."

that earned a loud, barking laugh from him, but the glint in his eye was pure predatory hunger. "oh yeah?"

his knee sank into the mattress as he crawled toward you, towering over you in an instant. "well, you're about to feel just how hard it really is, sweet girl."

your face burned. "i mean—it's just— y'know, objectively speaking..."

"objectively, my ass," he scoffed as he yanked his sweats down.

his massive, thick cock sprang free, slapping against his lower abdomen with an obscene thump, already flushed an angry shade of red at the tip. heavy, girthy, and veiny as hell, precum leaking steadily down the length like he was aching to stuff you full.

you could see the way it throbbed, the sheer size of it always leaving you speechless — and now? watching him stroke himself lazily, his massive hand barely wrapping around his shaft while he watched you squirm beneath him?

your body was practically begging to be split open by him.

"c'mere," he growled, wrapping a hand around the base, thick veins bulging. "since you're so fuckin' interested in my dick, why don't you put it to good use?"

and that’s how you ended up riding him, stuffed full and stretched to your absolute limit, gasping as his cock bullied its way inside you inch by thick inch.

"fuck, baby," he groaned, watching as you tried to sink down on him, your breath hitching when his thick tip stretched you open. his large, rough hands gripped your hips, trying to guide you gently, but his patience was wearing thin. "so fuckin' tight, shit... you sure you can take all of me?"

your head lolled back, tears prickling your eyes as you forced yourself to sink lower, hands splayed on his chest for balance as his thick tip battering against your cervix. "i can—i can do it, suki... i need it, need you..."

the stretch burned so good, and you knew once you got past the initial ache, it would feel heavenly.

"shit... my perfect fuckin' wife... built to take my cock, huh?" he groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as your walls squeezed around him, determined to milk him. "goddamn, look at you—fuckin' strugglin' to fit me in but still takin' it like a good girl."

you clenched at his words, and he felt it.

"fuckin' hell—"

without warning, he flipped you onto your back, his thick cock still buried deep inside you.

"sorry, baby," he grunted, pressing your knees to your chest. "gotta fuck my wife properly now."

and god, did he. his massive length pounded into you mercilessly, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. his cock bullied its way deep inside you, nudging against your cervix like it owned you, and all you could do was sob his name as your body struggled to accommodate his impossible size.

the bed creaked beneath you, your moans and his growls of "mine" and "perfect fuckin' wife" filling the room.

"s-suki! too—too deep!" you sobbed, your nails digging into his back. but he didn’t let up — he couldn’t. you felt too good wrapped around him, and the sight of your belly bulging slightly with the size of him only spurred him on.

"you can take it. built for me, remember? look at that—" he growled, pounding into you like you were his personal fucktoy. he glanced down, groaning low when he saw the bulge in your stomach from where his cock stretched you.

"shit, you feel that?" he groaned, pressing a large hand to your stomach. "my cock all the way up here? fuckin' made to be stuffed with me, huh?"

and when you finally came — hard and fast, screaming his name like a prayer — he followed instantly, spilling hot, thick ropes of cum deep inside you. his cock twitched violently as he filled you to the brim, his grip on your hips unrelenting as he rode out his high.

but even then, he stayed inside you, watching as his cum threatened to leak out around his still-hard cock.

"mmm... ain't lettin' any of that go to waste," he smirked, leaning down to kiss you breathlessly. "gonna make sure my pretty wife stays stuffed full of me."

by the time he was done with you — filling you up over and over again, making sure not a single drop of his cum went to waste escaped your fluttering hole — you were a wreck.

and as you laid there, utterly spent and boneless, your walls still struggling to keep his cock inside, one thought burned in your cock-drunk mind:

"god, i love my massive fucking husband."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ anon, i think you got me out of my slump and put my gooning mood into good use 😵‍💫 hope you guys enjoyed 💜

[pixlpxie]

An Unserious List of Kinks I Believe Yunho Has Based on My Analysis and His Birth Chart

Please do not forget these assumptions are just for fun and are not real

This was literally my first draft ever it took months but here we are

First of all, I don't get how yall think he is a softy that man is the epitome of hard dom he will make sure you know who is in charge

The only true dom in the group

Obsessive and possessive (duh) literally look at his birth chart

Has insane stamina, will go for rounds fucking you

Starting off strong and sure: This mf definitely has cosplay/dress up kink, there are no doubts. Have you seen the way that man's eyes lit up when a fan said I will dress up for you?? Yeah

So will def go nuts if you cosplay as spider girl or as his fave game characters, he ain't lasting a second

Which is why he probably likes to see you put on a show, with his taurus venus he probably likes looking at pretty things

Also why he enjoys lingerie a lot

Imo hes a huge hedonist and materialist, he has needs and desires that are difficult to satisfy and i don't think he can ever reach that high. So he will use you and your body for his pleasures a lot, that's also why he needs someone that can obey him

Won't keep his hands off of you for sure, the type to grab your ass in public no shame at all

His taurus venus combined with his scorpio placements, his touches and holds will be possessive. He will make sure you know that you are his (But that will only happen if he really wants you otherwise you might feel like you are being used for your body🤡)

The next one I am so fucking sure is his pain kink. Likes both receiving it and giving it. Esp electric shock. Again have you seen him literally reaching cloud 9 when he was hurt? idk man smths fishy here

Which brings me to the next point: He most likely is a sadist 🥰 luvly rly

He can enjoy dacryphilia, with that pisces mercury seeing your tears will get him going in an instant 🫴🏻

Will bite you, wherever he feels like although imo he'd bite your lips and make them bleed

Will not put up with your brat shit

Likes marking you but especially bruising you. Will also adore it when you leave marks on him, again burises. He already seems to bruise so easily (i feel you babe) so I feel like he would adore them post-sex

Size kink for sure, loves seeing you literally vanish beneath his massive figure

Likes when you praise him with dirty talk

Angry sex <3 jealous sex <3

Is quite vocal but he mostly growls and grunts especially when it's a kinkier sex, on the regular his moans are def low pitched

Sex under influence is something he will enjoy, whether it's drunk or high sex he will love it

Food play🏃🏻‍♂️ He will involve food during sex for sure

LMAO FOOT FETISH 😭 WE AINT MISSING ON THAT 🤾🏻‍♂️ (did that one pisces placement he has made him this way?? idk??) Enjoys both recieving and giving but id say giving more so def likes it when your feet is pretty (painting your nails and pedicure is def a turn on)

Like it or not he's a CNC typa man😋 loves forcing you and seeing you so ruined, controling you is important to him

In fact hes probably the only member to be heavily interested in darker and heavier kinks

He will be really sensitive with his 5 senses so he needs someone that can stimulate those senses

He doesn't want to get bored during sex, mental stimulation is important for him

Loves dirty talk

Humiliation and degredation™

Will force you to look into his eyes (But as a punishment he might never let you look at him either)

He is a slapper... He will slap and spank you a lot

Fake sympathy™

To me he's just that type of person to grab you from the chin, look you in the eyes and tell you "You wouldn't want it to be like this, would you princess?" Like he will threaten you subtly without being even mean

I might keep adding to the list so beware

[jammiesjars]

MDNI

Warnings: Accusation of Infedelity, heavily unedited writing (wrote this in a power outage in my notes app xx), fingering, eating pussy, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint REALLY hard.

One message is all it took for you to spiral.

Outrage was an understatement. A month, a single month, into Price’s deployment you had recieved a message from an unknown number. They insisted of Price having an affair with his so-called ‘receptionist.’ Being his wife, you didnt believe it. You and John had been married for years now. He wasnt that kind of man! (You hoped.)

Weeks passed and wheels start turning. Seeds of doubt had started digging into you. The late nights he had stayed at base before his deployment, only sending as much as a quick text of ‘Be home late. Dont wait up.’ Or the necessary secrecy between what happens at his job or deployment were starting to plant ideas in your head you wouldnt have ever had if not for that message. Youre being worn down, and its killing you. Its not like you could ask him; being thousands of kilometres away without any time to do as much as glance at his phone.

So the emotional resentment grew. You find yourself wondering how he could do this to you, crying in your empty home that housed the both of you not long ago. Before you even come to terms with it, Youve packed your bags and lawyered up, letting your resentment fester for far to long without any outside input.

On the third month of Prices deployment, you drive yourself up to base with one intention; leave the divorce papers on his desk to find when he comes back and to leave without confrontation.

Security on base knows you as ‘Price’s missus’ by now, offering a small wave and a smile as you walk by and into your husbands office. You put the papers on his desk, that frustration and hurt bubbling up all over again. He has your wedding photo framed on his desk and it only hurts more. What did you do to deserve this?

You turn to go, heading back towards his door when you hear muffled laughter and the sounds of gear being unzipped and dumped from down the hallway. Theyre back. You pick up the pace, praying you can slip out before he gets close enough to notice. You reach for the door handle, but the door opens before you can even grasp it.

Shit.

And there he is, your eyes drinking in the sight of the awfully more rugged version of your husband; beard outgrown and messy with tired eyes that light up at the sight of you.

That light dies as soon as sees just how mad you look.

“So youre telling me, one message is all it took to lose all fucking faith?” Price practically growls, fingers rubbing at his temples. Hes sat in his chair with you on the other side of his desk, just as furious. “Everything makes sense! The staying late at base, the short messages and lack of updates when your deployed!” You hiss, frustration bubbling over making anything small seem huge.

Price takes a deep breath, a futile attempt to calm his temper. “The shit I deal with doesnt sleep. Theres reasons i stay back that you will never know, love. The law itself, wont let me tell you. Same goes for messages. Im sorry i dont have the time to let you know im okay when im deployed, god knows i wish I did.” He scowls, his gaze so heated and intense that you almost look away despite your own fury.

“And what about this receptionist huh?”

Your tone has changed, soft and shaky. vunerable.

Price’s expression softens, but he doesnt say a word, simply rounding his desk to pluck you out of your own chair and putting you down in his office chair. He sinks to his knees in front of you, hands rested on your thighs. Blue eyes peer up at you, sickeningly sincere. “Love, I dont interact with her unless necessary. This isnt some romance movie bullshit.” Your heart is working overtime, lips parted as guilt bubbles. “You- you understand where my doubt is coming from, though…right? Everything lined up perfectly, and-“

Price simply tuts. “We’ve talked about that pretty little head of yours overthinking too much, havent we?” You freeze, throat drying. You nod. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes-“ you croak. “We have.”

Price grunts in approval, his hands now running up and down your thighs.

“Have you been feeling neglected, hm? Is that it? My sweet wife needs some attention?” Price rumbles, his large, calloused hands that have been marked by countless battles now playing with the hem of your skirt.

“You’ve got my attention now, luvie. No need to play these stupid games with me.”

Your mind is already growing hazy; your husbands words making you almost want to forget about this whole incident. A finger hooks onto the waistband of your panties, bringing you back to the moment.

“Stupid games? John i was prepared to divorce you-“ he shushes you, dragging your underwear down your thighs, then your calves and over your shoes before slipping them into his pocket. A cheeky smile graces his face. stupid muttonchops.

“Must’ve left you alone for far too long then, if you were willing to take it this far.”

He slings your legs over his impossibly large shoulders, making you squeak as your pulled forward on the chair.

“Wouldve come home and fucked those stupid thoughts straight out of your head if i had known you were having doubts about my loyalty, sweetheart.”

He presses a messy kiss to your clit, making you gasp. He grumbles something incoherent (“Me? Cheat? Silly girl.”), before licking a long stripe up your neglected cunt, causing your hips to buck. The taste of you after going months without has price groaning into your heat. He eats like a man starved, a mix of desire to prove his loyalty and that he finally gets to taste his wife after being away for so long.

Hes fuming, really. Toward you? No.

Towards whatever stupid bastard sent you that message. He’s glad you didnt notice him slip your phone in his pocket, because he knew you’d be against him hunting the fucker down. You just need a distraction to keep that pretty little head thinking too hard. And he’ll give you just that.

“Oh, my poor sweet wife…” He grunts, before sucking on your clit with a renewed fevor. He pulls off with a lewd pop, two thick fingers replacing his previous ministrations. You’re squirming in his office chair, mind hazy and hips bucking.

“Thinkin’ I was out here cheating on ya’… you know better, love.” He tuts.

His fingers curl so nicely into that spongey spot that makes you see stars. “M sorry-“ you’d slur, “I didnt believe it when I first saw the message I promise-“ you gasp as price presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing in small tight circles.

“Lovie, you stormed in here with divorce papers. Dont tell me you didn’t believe it.”

Your head tilts back as you pant, small gasps slipping past your lips.

“There we go.” Price coaxes, his fingers picking up their pace.

“Wouldnt even cross my mind to look at another woman when my gorgeous girl looks like that as I stuff her cunt full of my fingers.” He coos, watching your face intently as your release crashes down; intense enough to make you writhe and moan.

Price pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean before getting up off his knees. Your throat runs dry, bracing for whats to come even as you grapple your bearings. You’re mentally preparing for Price to be dissapointed, upset with you, maybe even mad.

He analyzes your expression, leaning back against his desk. His eyes scrape over your small form sat in his chair.

“Im not upset, love. That pretty little head of yours had months to overthink that message without a voice of reason.”

Price tilts your chin up.

“Lets just not have to do this again, hm? Then i’ll be mad.”

Its sounds like a threat, but it isnt. Price knows he’ll always be there to talk his beloved wife down from the edge.

[axolotl-in-highheels]

Guess who's baaaack

Yes, it is I, and i bring you more of my horribly selfindulgent shit.

◇

Little A/N:

I think this fandom has a huge problem with making 'readers' usually female, straight up victims and it is jarring to see the 141 operators sometimes treating the 'reader' as some pretty object.

So! I am on a mission to fix that with making the 'reader' have a proper backbone (titanium baby!)

And with that i bring you...

◇

Task Force 141 x uninterested!Reader

Premise: the 141 boys are head-over-heels for you and are letting it out in some not-cool ways and you are having none of it!

DW/Tw: possesive behavior

Capt. Jonathan Price

He is actually the calmest out of all of them, still, he has his issues

Price gets overprotective over you, normal at first. Checking in with you after missions and being a shoulder to cry on if the nightmares catch up to you

However...after a while, things spiral. He starts putting you into less and less direct combat situations, from taking the sniper perch to being assinged purely recon and oversight

And worst of all, he is your commanding officer, so you have no real room for backtalk

Even worse, he gets worse privately too. He is around you almost all of the time, scaring off other male soldiers and dragging you into his office for benine reasons

At one point, you break. Combat, once your save-haven, now a distant memory. No more adrenalin spikes while under fire, just boring drone footage and comm oversight.

So, one night, you pack your shit and leave the SAS base. Erasing your tracks through shady contracts and grey areas, you go AWOL.

Price is spiraling now, urging higher-ups to find you, to bring you back where he can see you, where he can control you.

Now, imagine his utter horror when, one day, you emerge on a battlefield, gun in hand, and with a wolf-patch on your vest. Your new life, at KorTac.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Oh he was smitten with you, prettiest bird on base, always smiling at him like he hung the moon in the sky.

Everytime you talked to him this little voice in his head grew louder and louder. He wanted you to be his and how could you resist him? His smile, his personality, hell his everything.

In his eyes you were meant for him. So he started talking to you, a lot. Sure it was nice at first, he gave you tips in the shooting range or sat with you in the mess hall when you were alone.

Yet, you never tried to get closer than 'just friends' with him, you made that clear on multiple occasions afterall. But Gaz was determent, if you didn't want him now he was obviously not trying hard enough

So he doubled down, soon he was glued to your side like gum. Never giving you room to breathe. Still, you held firm, you two are friends nothing more, nothing less.

Seeing his attempts fail over and over, Kyle made a decision, he was gonna make you jealous. Setting his plan in motion, he met up with a lot of girls, civillians mosty, but sometimes a cute new nurse or two.

He was going strong by all means, telling himself it was a matter of time before you came crawling to him, wanting him in your bed.

However, that fell apart like a jenga-tower the day he saw you limping out of Lieutenant Riley's room, covered in hickeys and wearing his shirt, while flashing him a coy smile. Two could play that game, and you won.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Oh soap, poor little soap. He actually knew you, pretty well infact. The two of you were good friends, having met back in basics at the age of 19.

He only saw you occasionally when he was on a brief shore-leave between missions, meeting up with you and letting you ramble about your job in the 'regular' british army

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't like seeing you in such a rough field of work, sure, you were nowhere near his level of life-threatning but still.

Rarely, he voiced his opinion that you should leave the army and become a civillian again, working at a coffeéshop or a bookstore, something soft.

He only had good intentiones but his constant rebuttles and fairytale-like imaginations for your life got annoying quick. Paired with his sour demeanor everyrime you mentioned a new person you were talking to.

After a while of his incessant nagging at your occupation and not-so-suble hints that he's interested in you, you made a decision, one you should have made a long time ago.

You went to the SAS training, 6 months of gruelling physical activity, and torture training combined with little sleep. But you persisted, and were in the 10% success rate. You made it, an SAS soldier.

And by all means you were a natural, leadership came very easy to you and after a few short years of keeping johnny in the dark, you walked into the briefing-room with the rank Captain, ready for action.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon, Simon, Simon. Where do i begin. You were the newest face in the 141, being brought in as a Sergeant to work alongside them.

He didn't think too much of you at first, you did your job and that was all that mattered to him. Sure, you got along well with Soap and Gaz quicky becoming a part of the team.

Over time, he noticed you trying to get closer to him. Offering to train with him or making him a cup of Earl grey in the mornings.

Ghost really tried to not let you invade his thoughts, he was your CO and fraternization is a real danger in his profession but alas it didn't work and he fell for you, hard.

At first he went along with you, training with you and joking around sometimes.

But it quicky spiraled, after some time you came into his office just to work with him or came into his room just to talk if you had a nightmare. Slowly your belongings mixed into one another. You stole his oversized clothing or a pencil, he let you of course, he'd give you his heart if you asked.

But he bever made a move, always pulling back at the last second. When it got too personal he'd shut you out for days on end until you came knocking at his door again.

Yet, things like this never last. So one day, when he was avoiding you again, you had enough. One last time you dropped by his room, when the door finally swung open, you dropped all his stuff into his arms and left. No goodbyes or second chances, Simon, in all his avoidend behavior, blew his chance.

◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇

So, that was it, i'm not too pround of it but eh.

Anyways if you liked it lmk or you can vent what pisses you off about some CoD fanfic tropes i'd love to hear it.

If you want to request something in a similar direction go ahead i'd love to write it!

Thank you and stay tuned

[sniktbaby]

something you could sin for (part one)

summary: logan is your dad's best friend. both of you struggle to come to terms with your growing feelings for each other.

warnings: angst, dad's best friend, a hint of jealousy-based misogyny, age gap (reader is in her late 20s!), size difference, some dirty talk, size kink (logan has a huge d), smidge of praise, pet names (baby, princess, darling), shower sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), pain kink if you squint, riding, clitplay, creampie, lots of religious terms (idk man), cliffhanger ending maybe???

word count: 6.6k

author's note: yeehaw cowboy logan!!! i had such a fun time writing this one! i might do a sequel to this if you guys like it! title is from midnight cowboy by jade <3

UPDATE: part two is out now! <3

It is your birthday. Logan, your dad’s best friend, stands by the barbeque, chatting it up with your dad. He steals glances at you, hoping you don’t notice his gaze underneath his signature cowboy hat and dark aviators.

He really has been making an effort not to look. Trying not to notice the baby blue dress you’re wearing, the way it cinches at your waist. How the thin fabric flows over your hips. And he definitely didn’t catch sight of you bending down to pet his dog, your breasts barely contained by the cups of the dress, revealing that you’re not wearing a bra.

No, he didn’t notice that at all.

Fuck. What is he thinking? You’re his best friend’s daughter, for Christ’s sake! He even brought a date, some little redhead he picked up at the bar, just so he’d have an excuse to stay away from you.

But the truth is, the second he saw you - barefoot in the grass in that damn dress, laughing with your friends while you posed in front of the balloon wall - he couldn’t even remember the redhead’s name. He didn’t want to remember, checked out of that whole idea.

The sun is setting now. Logan goes to help your dad with getting a bonfire started as you sit on the porch, a slice of cake balanced on a paper plate in your lap. The redhead Logan brought stands so close to him, hanging off his every word, and it makes your muscles tense. You’re so distracted, watching this woman laugh at Logan’s dumb jokes, that you don’t notice Addy, Logan’s dog, sprinting up to you. Before you have time to react, you’re absolutely covered in vanilla cake and strawberry frosting.

Logan looks over, noticing the commotion. He can see your cheeks flush and your eyes water as you stand there, smothered in cake. He knows you would never be mad at Addy over an accident. You’re too understanding, as sweet as the dessert smeared all over your pretty dress. You’re crushed because the redhead beside him is pointing at you, laughing.

You’re embarrassed, humiliated, and his little date isn’t helping. His jaw clenches as he watches you hurry inside the house.

“Shit. Logan, go check on her, will ya?”

Logan turns toward your dad, who is still occupied with getting the fire just the way he wants it. A stubborn perfectionist. You inherited that from him.

But Logan can’t go after you. He can barely be alone with you these days, much less when you’re upset. He’ll just want to hold you, stroke your hair, tell you the truth about how he feels. He can’t do that. “Why me?” he asks, taking a step to the side as the redhead goes to lock arms with him.

Your dad chuckles, breaking a branch over his knee. “You’ve always been better at cheerin’ her up when she’s like this.”

He’s not wrong. With a sigh, Logan nods, then makes his way towards the house.

You disappear inside. Honestly, Addy did you a favor. You needed a moment to yourself, to clear your head. Get Logan out of it.

You were already jealous that he brought another woman. Then you think of her laughing face when Addy knocked the slice of cake against you. And now you’re so fucking humiliated, it stings your skin. Sure, it was funny, but her pointing finger and high-pitched giggle felt like malice. She already has the man you want, she has to laugh at you too?

Ugh. You can’t keep pretending like your feelings for Logan aren’t bigger than a silly childhood crush.

You retreat to your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your bed as you take a couple of deep breaths. You look down at the cake staining your dress, frosting smeared on your chest. It’s even in your hair.

You sigh. You need to calm down before going back out there.

Logan follows you through the house. This was a bad idea. He knows he shouldn’t have come after you. He should have stayed outside with the others, kept his hands clean of anything that doesn’t involve whiskey or cigars. But seeing you walk away, knowing you’re upset…

He’s here now, standing outside of your goddamn door.

He clears his throat, making you look up. You’re surprised to see him, his arms crossed tight over his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt pulled taut over his muscles.

He lifts his chin at you. “You okay?”

Your lips lift. “Fine,” you reply, lowering your gaze. You pick at a piece of cake stuck to your thigh. “Guess Addy was mad I didn’t cut her a slice.”

He lets out a rough chuckle as he pushes off the doorframe. Your joke lands soft and he hates that he put that tremble in your voice. He folds his arms tighter across his chest like it’ll somehow hold everything in - his control, his guilt, the goddamn animal inside him that perks up every time you look at him, like he’s worth something.

You look at him like you know him. Like you can see past the claws and the scars and the rage that lives under his skin. You look at him like you want all of him, even if it’s broken, even if it might hurt you.

And that scares the hell out of him.

You search his face. He looks troubled, like there’s something brewing beneath the surface if you could only pull it out of him. “You could’ve given me the heads up that you were bringing someone,” you murmur, shrugging your shoulders, feigning nonchalance though your fingers twist anxiously in your lap. “I mean…it’s your life, right? You can bring whoever you want. The guy I’m seeing was gonna come, but…”

A lie. You swallow hard, forcing a bitter smile.

His jaw clenches, nostrils flaring slightly. “You’re lyin’.” A slow exhale, one of his hands coming up to rub the back of his neck, knuckles brushing against the collar of his shirt. His dog tags shift under the cotton. He takes a step closer, drawn to you like a moth to flame.

You stiffen at his accusation, lips parting in surprise before pressing into a tight line. Your gaze drops to the floor. “You think I’m lying?” Your voice is quieter now, but still laced with defiance. You raise your chin, meeting his eyes again.

He takes another step, close enough now that he could reach out and touch you. Wipe the frosting from your skin. Taste it. Taste you.

Instead, he braces a hand on the bedpost beside your head, caging you in without laying a finger on you. “Think you’re lyin’ ‘bout the guy.” He tilts his head, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours. “Doubt he exists. Doubt anyone else gets that look from you.”

Your breath hitches, caught somewhere between fear and desire. He’s standing so close - too close - but he still hasn’t touched you. He’s choosing restraint, control. Something you don’t want from him. But you refuse to give in first.

You angle your head away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Stubborn girl. You always have been. You were always one to bite your lip bloody before admitting you were hurt.

Logan smirks, reaching up to tug off his hat. Without breaking eye contact, he settles it atop your head. It dips low over your brow, too big for you, shadowing your face just enough to make you raise your chin towards him. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear before pulling away completely, letting you feel his absence now that you’ve tasted his touch.

“Sure you don’t,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement and something darker.

The weight of his hat feels heavier than it should. Your fingers twitch at your sides, itching to touch him, to tear that fabric off of him until there’s no space left between you. Your heart pounds wildly beneath your ribs, hopeful and terrified all at once. Your breaths are coming fast, shallow, like you’re scared one wrong move will end whatever the hell is happening between you.

Your voice cracks when you speak. “You shouldn’t be in here, Logan.”

You’re right. He shouldn’t be in here. The curtains are drawn, the whole damn world waiting outside for them. None of them know how close he is to crossing a line he can’t come back from.

But he doesn’t move.

Your eyes. The way you look at him with desperation. Hunger. It mirrors something dark and restless in him. Something that has been clawing at his ribs for years, begging him to stop running. Stop hiding behind rules and regrets.

He shifts, just enough to close the distance between you. His knee presses into the mattress beside your thigh. His movements are slow, careful, wanting you to feel what you should know by now.

That he wants you.

Your breath catches, your thighs squeezing together. A million thoughts race through your head. You should tell him that this isn’t right. That he’s too old, too forbidden, too connected to your family to ever truly belong to you.

But instead, you lean into him, your chest rising and falling faster now. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Logan…” Your fingers curl into the fabric beneath you, fighting the urge to pull him closer. To kiss him.

Your voice, his name on your lips - it sounds like a prayer. A surrender. A warning.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But you leaned in. That tiny, traitorous shift of your body towards his - that was all it took. The last thread snaps. No more lies. No more pretending he doesn’t want you like this. Like he hasn’t wanted you for years. He cups your face before he loses his nerve, rough palm cradling your jaw like you’re both delicate and dangerous - which you are.

“Shouldn’t…” he mutters, thumb grazing your bottom lip, feeling you tremble underneath it, “...but I was never very good at doin’ what I should.”

And then he kisses you. Hard.

The kiss steals the air from your lungs, hot and demanding and utterly consuming. You go rigid beneath his touch, stunned that this is happening - that he is kissing you, claiming your mouth like he owns every secret you’ve whispered in the dark.

And then you push him away, roughly, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

The loss of your warmth hits him like a punch to the gut. He staggers back, blinking rapidly as if just waking up from a dream where he got to pretend he deserved to touch you like that.

Shit.

He rakes a shaky hand through his hair, teeth gritted against the self-loathing crawling up his spine. He came in here to check on you, to play it cool, and instead he kissed you like he had some sort of claim. Like he wasn’t supposed to be the responsible one.

“I-” He stops. Can’t even finish his sentence. He doesn’t know what the hell to say.

You bring a trembling hand to your lips, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin like you’re trying to memorize the feel of his kiss. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, uneven breaths escaping your parted lips. Your eyes well up, but you blink furiously to fight it back. Not here. Not in front of him. “No…” Your voice breaks on the word, and you shake your head violently. The cowboy hat slips sideways and you snatch it off, tossing it onto the bed like it burned you. “You don’t get to do that.”

The hat hitting the sheets feels like a slap to his cheek. You’re crying. Trying not to, stubborn girl, but he can see it. Smell it. That salt in the air - sharp and painful, like blood. And it’s his fault.

He exhales, eyes fixed on the floor between you like he’s staring into the grave of every rule he swore he wouldn’t break. “No…” He swallows hard, fists clenching at his sides.

You stand abruptly, the mattress creaking softly beneath you. The wood floor is cold on your bare feet, grounding you, reminding you who you are - who he is. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself. “I’m going for a shower.” You turn, heading for the bathroom connected to your bedroom.

He watches you, muscles coiled tight like he expects you to vanish the second you’re out of his sight. But when you start to close the bathroom door, something inside of him snaps for the second time tonight.

No. Not after that kiss. Not after years of watching you grow up, laughing when he picked you up after your first night of drinking because you were too scared to call home. Hurting when you cried over boys who never deserved you, little pricks. Loving you in ways he buried so deep he convinced himself he could live with this ache.

He pushes the door open before you can close it completely, his actions gentle but firm. Letting you know he’s in this. Letting you decide if you want to throw him out. He’ll leave if you tell him to.

You freeze. Your back to him, shoulders rising with each breath. You ignore him, moving to the faucet to turn on the water. Steam begins to rise as the water heats, fogging up the room. Then you turn to face him. “Logan…” Your voice wavers, partly a plea, a little bit of a warning.

The door clicks shut behind him and he takes a step towards you, close enough now that his heat licks at your skin like the thoughts tear through his skull. You’re trembling, shakes that tell him you’re barely holding on. Just like him.

He doesn’t respond. Words failed him the moment your mouths met.

Slowly, he reaches for you and brushes your hair over one shoulder. You turn away from him again, but he doesn’t falter. He takes in the curve of your spine beneath your dress, vertebrae pressing against fabric like the keys of a piano - each one a note he wants to play until you make music.

His knuckles graze your neck as he finds the zipper of your dress, his touch a promise, maybe a threat.

You can still stop him. You should stop him.

The sensation of his knuckles against your neck sends a jolt down your spine, electric and terrifying. Your eyelids flutter shut, your breath catching in your throat as goosebumps erupt across your skin despite the warmth from the steam. You stand there, immobilized by the suffocating haze of want and guilt until a shaky whimper escapes your lips. You reach out, your nails digging into the porcelain of the sink, your entire body taut like a bowstring pulled to its limit. “Please…”

That whimper nearly undoes him. You don’t tell him to get lost. Didn’t slam that door in his face like he wished you would’ve every goddamn day since you stopped being a girl and started walking through the world like a storm he couldn’t outrun.

So he takes his time, moving slow. Fingertips taking a hold of the zipper, he peels it down like he’s unveiling something sacred. Inch by inch, the curve of your back is exposed. His chest presses lightly against you, solid and impossibly warm.

You feel him - the breadth of his shoulders, the tension humming in his muscles, the heavy beat of his heart echoing your own. Your knees threaten to buckle. Your head drops forward, chin brushing your collarbone as a soft, strangled gasp slips free.

His touch feels safe, like coming home.

But you’ve been starved of this for far too long. You don’t want to be safe. You want him.

“Don’t…treat me like I’m made of glass.” You shift back, just a fraction - an invitation. A challenge. You want him to handle you like you’re real, not some memory wrapped in lace and nostalgia. Want him to stop tiptoeing around what you both know is real.

You want him to stop acting like he’s scared.

He tightens his grip on your hip, breath skating along the shell of your ear. “Patience, darlin’.” He murmurs it like a sin, his thumb hooking just beneath the loosened strap of your dress, teasing it down your shoulder. Slow. Deliberate. Driving you both insane.

He peels the dress from your shoulders, gentle, like he’s unwrapping a gift he never thought he’d be allowed to open. Fabric bunches at your elbows, the straps sliding down your arms, then pooling at your waist before he lets it fall entirely.

He drags his palms down your sides, feeling every tremor, every hitch of your breath against his chest. You’re so small in his hands. So soft. So damn perfect. He presses his mouth to your neck.

But you pull away and turn around, taking a moment to soak in the way his pupils dilate at the sight of your bare breasts. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, you pull off your panties, leaving you completely nude before him. He reaches out to touch you, but you don’t let him.

You pull back the shower curtain, stepping under the hot water. The shower douses your back as you watch him peel off his shirt and strip out of his jeans. You hold his gaze, fighting the urge to lower your eyes to the large tent in his boxers.

You don’t have a choice but to look when he steps out of the fabric. God, every single part of him is just so fucking big.

Logan watches the way the water drips from your hair, runs in rivulets down your collarbone, your breasts - perfect, full, begging for his mouth. You’re watching him like you expect him to hesitate. Like you think he won’t follow through.

He doesn’t give you time to second guess. Doesn’t give himself time either. He steps into the spray, steam swallowing you both, hot water scalding his back like penance.

Driving you back against the tile, hands braced on either side of you, he cages you in. Trapping you with him in this moment, this madness. “You sure?”

All you can do is nod, and he pushes you against the wall. Your head tips back as you close your eyes, a gasp escaping your lips as he bends, his mouth covering your nipple.

You taste like heaven and sin all wrapped into one. Your nipple hardens against his tongue, and he groans, the sound swallowed by the rushing water. You arch into him, offering yourself like an answer to a prayer he never knew how to say.

One hand finds your hip, anchoring you as he feasts on you, his mouth greedy and punishing. You’re soft everywhere he’s rough. It makes him want to mark you. Claim every inch of your skin until there’s no doubt in your mind who you belong to.

But you don’t belong to him, and you’re not his. Not really. Not in any way that matters beyond this steam-filled prison you’ve built together.

You laugh suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts. You’re thinking about all the times you imagined this moment. Rutting against your pillow, soaking through the fabric, whispering his name into the mattress…

“What’s so funny, darlin’?” he murmurs against your skin, trailing kisses upwards, to the hollow of your throat. His fingers flex on your hip, urging you to open your eyes, to look at him. Steam swirls around your bodies, the water pounding down like judgement.

He signed his soul over to the Devil the second he walked into this bathroom.

You respond to his question by grabbing his face and bringing him closer. “Nothing.” Before he can probe further, you kiss him. You lick into his mouth and wrap your arms around him, holding him tight against you as the warm water blankets your bodies. You never take your hands off of him as he kisses down your neck again, trailing down to your belly.

You kiss him like you’re starved for it. Starved for him. Tongue sliding against his, soft and wet and desperate. He groans into your mouth, hands tightening on your waist as he deepens the kiss. He feels you melt against him, eager, finally in his arms where you belong.

Then you’re pulling him down - hands in his hair, guiding him lower, arching into his touch as he trails kisses down your throat, between your breasts, over the plane of your belly. Water slicks your skin, making you shine in the dim bathroom light. You shiver as his stubble scrapes against the sensitive skin of your stomach, sending sparks straight between your legs.

You get the urge to ask him something. Your voice comes out breathless and thick with longing. “What would you have done-” He bites you, causing you to gasp. “-if I had brought another guy?”

The unexpected question hits him like a blade between the ribs. If you’d brought someone else. If he had walked in tonight and seen you wrapped around another man - laughing, touching, kissing.

Jealousy roars in his veins, loud and primal. His grip on you tightens, almost bruising. Intentional. He lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes, steam and lust warping the space between you. His voice is gravel and venom and something dangerously close to confession.

“Broke him in half.” He drags the words out, letting them simmer in the heat between you.

That isn’t enough for you. “Sooo…” You lift a brow, aware you’re being a brat. “...you don’t like the idea of me fucking other men?”

A growl rumbles from his chest. He stands to his full height, bracing his forearm against the tile beside your head, leaning in until his breath ghosts over your lips. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to choke. “Not a fan, no.” He smirks, but there’s no humour in it. His thumb drags slowly across your bottom lip.

His words awaken something in you, an animalistic ache that you didn’t know existed. You roll your hips forward, feeling his hard length press against your thigh. “Well then…” You bite down on your lip, lashes fluttering as you look up at him. “Start getting more possessive and I won’t have to.”

Your hands find purchase on his strong biceps. “Tell me I’m your girl.”

The words wrap around his throat like chains. Sweet, deadly chains.

Tell me I’m your girl.

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, slamming them against the wet tile and holding you there like a warning. Like a vow.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’, huh?” He grinds the words out through clenched teeth.

Maybe you pushed too far. “Trying to make you jealous,” you admit. You kiss him, deep and strong, covering his mouth like it’s your last meal. “Is it working?”

The kiss hits him like a bullet to the chest - fast and lethal. You’re not playing fair, and he’s had enough of this game. Enough of you testing him, pushing him, making him say things he can’t take back.

He releases your wrists and shoves his hands into your wet hair, gripping tight as he angles your head back, breaking the kiss. Your throat arches beautifully, vulnerable and open, and he growls against your skin. “Smartass.” He mutters it like a curse before he drops to his knees in the slippery tub, taking your thighs in his hands and hauling you against him. Roughly, Logan yanks your hips towards his mouth. His tongue glides up your pussy over and over again, each swipe ending in a nibble.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, groaning, gasping for air. His lips are relentless, tugging on your clit and making you shudder. You don’t care who can hear you. You lift your leg, placing a foot on the edge of the tub behind him, fisting his hair with one hand and reaching up, gripping the windowsill behind you with another.

Logan devours you. You taste like honey and sin, like every wicked thought he’s ever had about you curled into one addictive flavour he can’t get enough of. His tongue drags deep and slow - marking you in the way only he can. He groans around your clit, the vibration making you jerk against his mouth.

“Ride my face, princess,” he rasps against your soaked cunt, his voice rough, one of his hands digging into your ass to keep you grounded. You want to be heard? Want the whole damn world to know who has you screaming? Fine.

He bites you, and your head pushes back against the wall, overcome with ecstasy. You roll your hips, thrusting into his mouth. He kisses and tugs, sucking on your inner thighs and swirling his tongue over your slit. He’s messy, his saliva mixing with your slick until your pussy is dripping.

“Fuck.” You’re trembling. You grind against his mouth faster. “More, Logan.”

More. Goddamn, you’re shameless when you want to be. Voice raw, hips grinding like you were born to chase this kind of pleasure. And he’s the bastard feeding it to you.

He bites down again, just hard enough to make you squeal, then he soothes it with his tongue, dragging slow circles around your clit while his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, spreading you wider. He wants every drop of you. Your juices coat his beard, slick and sweet, and he growls against you. “Greedy girl,” he mutters, lips brushing your clit with every word.

He takes your ass in both hands, diving inside of you with his tongue. You cry out, gripping his hair so tight you hear him hiss in pain. But he doesn’t stop fucking you. Not for a second.

Heat fills your stomach, and you throb as his tongue thrusts in and out you. You peer down, taking in the view, and you notice one of his hands has left your ass to tug on his own cock. The sight makes you feel dizzy.

He can’t get enough of your soaked cunt - dripping, pulsing, perfect. His tongue dives deep, chasing every ripple of your walls clenching around nothing. You taste too good. It feels too right. He hauls you harder against his mouth, growling as you grip his hair like reins, like you’re riding him to ruin. Good. You can use him. Take whatever you need.

He looks up at you, jerking himself slow and rough, thumb rubbing the slit as he pictures burying every inch of his cock inside of your tight heat. Stretching you wide. Making you take all of him until there’s no mistaking who owns that sweet, greedy pussy.

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, your body aching to come. “You wanna fuck me?” you ask him breathlessly, your eyes locked on to the way he pulls on himself.

The words hit him like a match to gasoline. Fuck yeah, he wants to fuck you. Has for years. Every damn day he told himself no, every night he lied awake wishing he could say yes.

He pulls back just enough to sit, brute force dragging him down to the slick porcelain floor. Legs splayed, dick jutting up hard and ready, beads of pre-come glistening in the bathroom light. He braces his arms behind him, holding himself steady for what he knows is coming.

His voice is like sandpaper when he answers. “Climb on, darlin’.” He tilts his chin up, eyes locking on yours. He reaches out, pulling you down on top of him.

Logan’s large frame in the tiny bathtub makes you want to laugh, and you almost do, but then he rolls his cock against your slit. You gasp. That’s one way to shut you up.

Logan lets out a low chuckle, his large hands traveling over your body. He lets you grind down slowly until you’re panting and clutching at his shoulders. He braces one hand on the small of your back, the other gripping your thigh, guiding your movements. Dominant because he knows that’s what you want. What you need.

“Easy, princess,” he murmurs against your neck, lips grazing damp skin as you writhe against him. “I’ve got ya.”

He doesn’t know if he can hold back much longer. You’re slick, swollen, rocking against him like you’re trying to set yourself on fire - and him with you.

Leaning down, you kiss and lick a path down his chest, his stomach. You nibble the prominent vein leading down to his length, wanting to take your time with him the same way he did with you. Prove to him that you know patience too.

You lower your mouth on his tip, taking him down your throat and giving him something to watch. Your mouth wraps around him like velvet, tight and wet and way too fucking good. He fists one hand in your hair - holding on, feeling you, reminding himself that this is real.

You take him deep, slow, teasing - like you’re trying to prove a point. Taunting him with that pretty mouth, showing him that you can be cruel and kind all at once. He watches you - every damn second of it. Lips stretched around his length, cheeks hollowing, eyes fluttering shut like you’re savouring him. You own him right now. His body, mind, and soul - it all belongs to you. “Damn, baby…”

The way his voice cracks. The plea in his tone. It’s too much.

Fuck patience.

You swing your leg over his hip, straddling him once again, lowering yourself on to him. You hold his cock in your fist as you sink down. The tip dips inside, and your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your body tenses.

The second you sink down on him - slow and agonizing - he sees stars. White-hot and blinding. Your heat wraps around him, tight and perfect, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut too, suck in a breath through his nose, and pray to a God he doesn’t believe in that he doesn’t blow apart like some dumb kid getting his first blowjob.

Then he notices you’ve stopped, freezing halfway down, muscles tensed like you’re trying to hold yourself together. He hums, pleased with himself. Brave girl you are. Stubborn too. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking like he just won the lottery.

He shifts his hands to your hips, thumbs pressing into the bone, steadying you. Keeping you still, but he urges you forward. “C’mon, darlin’.”

You start to move, your hips circling at a slow pace. He doesn’t stop caressing you, motivating you. You drop lower, sinking an inch of him inside you, then another. And then you stop again. “Just…give me a second,” you breathe.

You move like you want to torture him. It is driving him absolutely insane, how good you feel wrapped around him. He lets out a harsh breath, eyes rolling back for just a second before snapping back open.

He nods at your request, his voice gruff and strained. “Take your time, princess.” His thumb strokes soothing patterns on your hip, trying to be gentle. For you.

You start to slide up and down, just barely. He’s long, and thick. The stretch burns, it hurts, but you sink further down. The pain is uncomfortable, but bearable.

Logan can feel your heat, your tightness, and you’re so wet - but you’re still fighting through the burn. He braces his hand firmly on your hip, holding you. Anchoring. Letting you feel him, letting you set the pace even though every part of his being wants to flip you over and pound into you until neither one of you can think.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice raspy, eyes hooded as he drinks in every reaction, every flinch, every moment of pleasure etched onto your face mixed with the sting.

Your hips shift - just a little - and he feels it. That instinct to move, to chase the rhythm, but you’re not ready yet. Not fully. He can still feel you tensing, fighting through the discomfort like you always do - never backing down, never asking for help.

He tightens his grip on your hip, firm but careful, using just enough pressure to still your movements. His other hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb brushing away a strand of damp hair stuck to your cheek. He tilts your chin down so you have to look at him. “Give yourself a minute, darlin’,” he says, voice rough with restraint but softened by something he’s afraid to name out loud.

You lean down, stretched, a little sore, and filled. He’s inside you all the way. You kiss him, and then you start to move, rolling your hips. Both of you moan at the new sensation.

You settle on him fully and he swears he dies for a second, going to some version of heaven where he actually deserves to touch you like this. Where he doesn’t have to carry every regret, every rule he broke to get here. He deepens the kiss the second he feels you roll your hips - slow and uncertain - and he groans into your mouth, because holy fuck, you feel too good. Too right. It’s too much.

He kisses you harder, ruthlessly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting just enough to make you gasp. His hands on your hips guide you, lifting you slightly before pulling you back down. “Ride me, baby.”

You moan as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip. “Okay.”

You rut against him. It isn’t long before the discomfort is gone completely, replaced by a throbbing warmth. You slide up and down his length, his cock moving in and out of you easily now. You move like you’ve found religion - hips rolling and taking him deep. Wet, slick sounds fill the cramped bathtub, drowned out only by your ragged breaths and the constant hum of the shower.

He watches you ride him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmurs, thumb pressing into the notch of your hip, guiding your rhythm when you stutter - when you get too greedy, too fast. “So damn good.”

You smile at his praise and lean back, gripping both sides of the tub as your hips roll. You tilt your head back, and you know his eyes are on you. God, you love the feeling of his eyes on your body as you put on a show for him. Water still streams down from the showerhead, droplets catching on your skin, sliding down your collarbone, disappearing into the valley between your breasts. He wants to lick every trace of it off of you.

But he doesn’t move. Just watches, letting you take control. Letting you show him exactly how much you want this - how much you want him.

You grind down faster. The thickness, his tip hitting you deep inside, his thumb finding its way to your swollen clit - it’s all too much, and also the best fucking thing you have ever felt. “Oh…” you groan, bouncing quicker now. You can feel your climax building.

You’re moving like you’re possessed - wild, uninhibited, chasing that edge like he’s not right there with you, praying for mercy. His thumb circles your clit, firm and relentless, matching the frantic pace of your hips. You’re soaked, swollen.

You’re close. So damn close.

And he wants it. Wants to feel you come apart on him. Wants every asshole at that party to wonder where the hell you disappeared to and what the fuck he’s doing to you. His voice is pure sin when he barks out, commanding, “Fuck me harder, baby.”

You grab his hand from your hip. You place the tip of his index finger on your tongue, slowly taking him down to the knuckle. You take his finger like it’s his cock - slow, wet, deep - and he swears he can feel it in his fucking toes. His hips jerk up on instinct, chasing friction, chasing relief he doesn’t deserve yet. Not when you’re still riding him like a damn fever dream.

He lets out a choked whimper - pathetic and desperate - and his free hand leaves your clit to dig into your thigh, like he needs leverage just to survive you. “B-Baby…” he tries to warn you, his voice cracked and breathless. He’s hanging on by a thread.

He’s going to come. You’ll never forget that sound.

It hits him like a freight train, merciless. His back bows off the porcelain, every muscle locking up as he lets himself go.

He comes hard, a groan ripping from his throat like he’s being torn apart from the inside out, your name spilling out like a curse and a prayer all at once. “Baby…fuck…”

You keep moving - relentless little vixen you are - and he lets you, even though he swears he’s going to die from it. He lets you chase your high while he tries to remember how the hell to breathe.

And then you come too. “God! Logan!”

His hands fly to your tits as you shake and shudder above him, your insides bursting with wave after wave of euphoric bliss. Your hips piston against him, jerking harder and faster until your climax begins to fade, and you collapse on top of him.

He holds you against him, his grip tight. You think you can feel him kissing your hair, but the world is still spinning, everything moving too fast to be sure. He’s right there, holding you through every tremor, every gasp, every shattered moan that leaves your lips.

Your breasts are soft and warm, nipples dragging across his chest with every shiver, and he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist. You’re exhausted, spent, and he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world - even though he’s the last man alive who should be allowed to.

He presses his lips to your wet hair, breathing you in, anchoring himself to this moment, even though he knows what comes next. Regrets. Rules. Consequences.

Still panting softly, you lift your head from his chest just enough to meet his gaze. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted, and your hair sticks to your skin in damp waves. There’s a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips - one that says you don’t regret a single second of this.

Your smile hits him square in the chest, soft and sleepy and full of something he doesn’t deserve. He wants to kiss you again. Wants to taste that satisfaction on your lips, seal it in like a promise. But he doesn’t move. He can’t. Reality is creeping in now. Outside this bathroom, people are laughing, drinking, wondering what you two are doing. Your dad, his best friend, is out there, slapping backs and pouring drinks, telling stupid stories around the fire, completely clueless that Logan just ruined his trust.

You shift slightly, resting your chin on Logan’s chest so you can look at him better. Your fingers trail lazily over his shoulder, tracing invisible patterns along his skin. “You’re thinking too loud,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady. Your expression doesn’t lose that quiet happiness. With a smirk, you add, “They can wait five more minutes.” You press a lingering kiss to his collarbone before settling back against him, your ear over his heart.

He feels your kiss everywhere - in his ribs, his throat, in the marrow of his bones that have carried shame and guilt for far too long.

You’re right, he is thinking. Thinking about what happens now. About what happens when the water goes cold and you have to step back into a world where he’s supposed to be untouchable. Where you’re supposed to be off-limits.

But you dare him to stay. Dare the world to interrupt.

He exhales slowly, one arm curling tighter around your back. The other drifts absentmindedly through your hair, fingers threading through the strands like he’s done a thousand times in dreams he woke from ashamed.

“Yeah,” he mutters, voice low. “Five more minutes.”

[wolviensabes]

SFW Alphabet: Wolverine

a/n: yayyy I am writing a new character finally. I've been wanting to do Wolverine for a while, I just got around to doing it. Especially after D&W, I can't help myself. So like my main, I will start off with the alphabet and gradually write more into him. My characterization will be mixed based on film, show, and comic so not one specific source. I have never written this character before so the way I write him may change as I continue. This is also unedited ignore mistakes <3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

Logan is a fairly affectionate dude, once you get past his gruff and rugged outer layer. He will pull you close to him and let you lay on him or snuggle up close. He's very warm and makes the perfect heater since he generally likes to keep his room cold to combat his body temperature.

He enjoys cuddling, though he won't outright say it. He likes feeling you lay close and seek him out for comfort and warmth regardless of the time of day or situation. He won't ever deny you that.

He likes to ruffle your hair and he will lightly nip at you and grin when you give him a surprised look.

He's all for hugs, he likes when you hug him and try to hug as tight as you can, he's completely unfazed. Sometimes he will grab you and lift you up, and laugh when you try to do the same. His adamantium skeleton weighs him down more than you thought. He's strong as hell to be able to move so much and you realize it the moment you try that.

When you lay close he will rub your back or idly rub another part of your body. Any kind of touch he can get. His fingers are so warm, it feels especially good if you're shirtless laying on him. He really enjoys skin to skin contact.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?):

He'd be a bit of a loner, but in the end he will always come through. He's hard to initially bond with, so be prepared for him disappearing a lot, hopefully you are a patient person.

At first he might not want to bond with anyone because his life is a roller coaster of shit, but persistence might wear him down enough to let you in his friend circle.

He's the type to drink with you, have a cigar and talk about whatever. He's down for brawling, he likes to mess around in that sense.

But Logan likes his alone time too, so balancing out social and private time is important. If you push too much I think he will back off a lot. He's had a shit life and if he cares a lot about you, he might not want it to be too obvious you are important to him. A specific mutant tends to kill off his close relationships.

*cough* Sabretooth *cough*

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?):

He does, he just won't admit it. I don't see Logan as a touchy feely guy with words, his actions mean a lot more than what he says.

Logan accepts cuddling basically anytime you want, just get close and snuggle up against him.

He might invite you to do so if he notices that you want to but are too unsure to initiate it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):

It's shown that Logan has settled down before. So he'd do it again with the right person.

He would rather be the type to support or provide rather than be the one to cook and clean, but he will lend a hand if necessary.

Compromise is possible. He might make a huge mess in the kitchen though.

I can see him working a grill pretty well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

Straightforward and to the point. He'd tell you about his past and how complicated his life is, and he doesn't want you caught up in the mess of it too.

Logan might try to break things off after they get serious, worrying about what could happen to you, but if you insist, he will stay. He just doesn't want you to get hurt.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

It would take a while before Logan would be ready for marriage. The life of an X-Man is complicated enough, and his especially is hard to handle. He wouldn't want to settle down for a long time.

But once you find that sweet spot, and have a long conversation and understand the concerns and dangers, he would be willing. You just have to be careful.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

Logan is naturally more rough than most, but he can be gentle when he wants to be or needs to be. He has a good heart, despite what he likes to portray himself as.

He's able to caress and hold you like a man who hasn't been through the worst Hell of his life, and he's able to understand and connect with you emotionally too. He does try his best for you, even if he isn't very good at first.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):

He does. He likes when you hug him. As mentioned before, he likes to lift you up and he chuckles as you try to lift him (and fail).

He throws you over his shoulder when he picks you up and he teases you as you try to squirm away.

A lot of the time your hugs turn into play fights.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?):

For Logan, saying that would take a long time. He'd be very reluctant to admit it or even begin a relationship in the first place so he doesn't want to endanger you by admitting he has such intense feelings for you.

When he does, he makes sure you two are alone and he whispers it to you either when you are being intimate together, or he admits it to you after something happens where he thought he lost you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

Logan doesn't necessarily get 'jealous' but I can see him being very possessive. He knows his partner wouldn't cheat and he is very comfortable and secure in his relationship with you, but sometimes he can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

He will come up to you and growl at the person he feels jealous of, possessively wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you closer to him, glaring daggers at the person.

I can totally see him unsheathing his claws and asking you how they look, he claims he 'polished them' and wants you to see, but it's just a way for him to further intimidate the person in front of you.

It always works.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

Naturally, he's a bit messy. He likes kisses that leave you breathless, but are pretty passionate and demanding. He will kiss you until you are pulling back to breathe, and he lets you take a few breaths before diving back in for more.

He bites your lip, his tongue explores your mouth, the works. His hands are gripping onto you and holding you flush against him, his dominance fully showing when he is kissing you and you cannot complain.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?):

Logan doesn't really like being around kids, but he's surprisingly good with them. he's not mean to the kids obviously, he just prefers not to be around them. He doesn't like 'babysitting,' even though he's been forced to do so multiple times.

He has a natural instinct to protect, and he's proven time and time again that despite his attitude towards the children around the mansion, he's protected the entire mansion and the children inside with ferocity.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):

Grumpier than normal, if that's even possible. He hates mornings. He'd much rather wake up on his own and have the time to slowly wake up fully and start his day than awake to an alarm.

He has trouble sleeping at night because of nightmares, so by the time morning comes, he's fallen asleep. He wakes up late morning to mid afternoon on a good day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?):

Logan is more active at night due to his nightmares. He doesn't sleep well and rarely gets a good night's rest. When you came along, he asked if you could sleep in another room since he woke up swinging a lot. But gradually your presence helped and you were there for him when he woke from his nightmares.

Now, he can sleep without waking up and worrying about hurting you. Nightmares still plague him, but they're much quieter when you sleep beside him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):

Logan has to be open with certain things, just for your safety. You learn things with him about his past and himself, he does try to keep some of the things he's done to himself just to prevent any possible arguments from you asking too many questions. Logan doesn't like to sit and explain why he did things he had to do, especially if it's generally something considered to be bad.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):

To a degree, he's...somewhat patient. He can snap quickly, but he is verbal about his irritation before he acts on it.

But this can also depend on the person annoying him. Some people just make him act before he can even get the words out.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

He has a very good memory, I mean he remembers things from decades ago, so he can remember something simple like your favorite song or color.

He remembers little things. Your favorite things, how you enjoy specific scents or tastes, and all the meaningful stuff that warms your heart that he remembers.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):

I don't think he has one specific thing he enjoys the most. I would say maybe the first time he could actually sleep without worry of hurting you and he woke up feeling pleasantly rested, because you were by his side and he didn't have any nightmares.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

Congratulations, you have an insane attack animal on your hands.

Logan is insanely protective over you. He can't help himself. You are his, and he needs to keep you safe at all times.

It's in his nature, and sometimes he can't turn it off. He's always hovering over you, watching the people around you and making sure no one is looking at you for too long.

He's very vigilant by nature, so his head is almost constantly on a swivel despite his cool appearance.

Logan wouldn't hesitate to fuck someone up if you asked him to, or defend you at any time. He'd break someone's nose for talking bad about you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):

He would try as much as you liked him to, I think for him, getting you flowers or treats that you like is his default until he recognizes what means the most to you and he begins to do that.

As for planning things, he mostly leaves that for you unless you want him to plan something. He's very open to doing whatever you want, as long as you're happy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):

At the beginning of your relationship, he disappears a lot and his communication is shit. It makes you think that he isn't very reliable, and it causes some drifts in your relationship early on. He also doesn't explain a whole lot at first, but once you progress further he gets better at communication.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

Logan is a very rugged man, he doesn't spend too much on his looks, but he does enough not to be considered unhygienic. Otherwise his concern for his appearance isn't very strong. Unless you had a problem with it, he wouldn't put any more effort into his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

Once you get to the bonded stage, he doesn't want to be apart from you. He cares a lot about you and once he admits to loving you, he is fully committed. Nothing could keep him from you and he'd tear a rift in the world to get to you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):

Play fighting is one of his love languages. He loves to play fight. He can win, every time, you know that. But he still likes to wrestle around and let you think you're winning...then he pins you down within seconds.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Anyone who would try to boss him around in an annoying way or try to change him. He doesn't want a partner who tries to change who he is. He wants to be accepted, he wants to be able to be himself. Playful bossing around is different, but if you genuinely try to make him do every single thing you say, you two will butt heads and you won't be compatible.

If you nag too much that would annoy him. He drinks, he smokes cigars, you either have to deal with it or say nothing. He will continue to do it regardless of your personal opinion about it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?):

Logan tries to get as much sleep as he can, but he has chronic nightmares so sometimes it's very difficult for him to sleep fully during the night. Having you with him helps, and gradually as you sleep beside him, his nightmares calm enough for him to sleep through the night without waking up swinging or trying to stab the closest thing near him.

He generally sleeps late at night to late morning or early afternoon, he doesn't keep normal sleeping hours.

He likes having you by his side when he does sleep, he feels more secure with you tucked under his arms and snuggled into his chest. Your presence, your scent...everything, it helps relax him enough to fall asleep.

He always sleeps closest to the door so he can jump up and protect you if necessary.

Thanks for reading.

*SNIKT*

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[bvnnywrites]

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.

A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.

The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.

König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.

And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.

He relished in it.

And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.

Destructive.

All-devouring force.

Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.

His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.

However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.

And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.

It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.

As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.

Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.

She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”

“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”

“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”

Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.

But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.

Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back? 

Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp. 

The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.

Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks. 

You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.

You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man. 

Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.

However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.

"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree." 

"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."

"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."

You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.

"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.

"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"

“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”

You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.

"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic. 

You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. 

All of you got along. 

Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.

And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day. 

A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.

Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke. 

Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.

You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point. 

Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.

"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

“Did you hear what happened?”

“What?”

“Another soldier went missing again.”

Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.

No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.

The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.

Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.

In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.

Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.

Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.

The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.

Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.

“Who was it?” You dared to ask.

Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.

“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.

“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”

“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.

“Exactly.”

You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…

Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.

It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.

Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.

That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.

But could you even blame them?

They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.

So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.

Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.

Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.

The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.

“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.

“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”

“Why him?”

“He’s too violent.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.

The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.

The atmosphere had gone heavy.

It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.

You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.

Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.

“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.

Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”

“I doubt he exists.”

“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”

“What did you pray for?”

Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”

“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”

A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.

König.

You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.

“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.

HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.

So, why now?

“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.

“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”

His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.

“So, why do we need to go to your office?”

But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.

“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”

“Are you always so noisy?”

You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.

He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.

“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”

“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”

You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.

You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.

The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.

He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.

Where he can have you all to himself.

But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.

He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.

 König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable­—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.

König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.

“C-colonel, we’re here.”

You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.

No.

That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.

“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”

You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.

The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–

Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.

Not in a fight, of course.

“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”

He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.

“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”

“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”

“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”

König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.

The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.

Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.

At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.

“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.

“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.

His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.

“I’m sorry.” You say again.

The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–

“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”

You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?

His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.

“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”

You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.

“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”

“Yes, sir.”

The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.

König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.

“Are you married, Schatz?”

“No, sir.”

“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t you?”

Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world.  Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–

The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.

“What gave it away, Schatz?”

Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.

“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”

“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”

He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.

“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”

His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.

“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”

“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”

Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.

“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”

König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.

“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."

“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”

“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”

His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.

 My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”

“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”

You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.

How did it get to this?

How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.

“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”

“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”

“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”

König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.

He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.

“Was it offensive… sir?”

“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”

König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.

His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask. 

He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.

And lonely.

And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.

König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.          

He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.

He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.

“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”

“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.

The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.

“I’d say you’re beautiful.”

Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.

“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”

He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.

[fatal-blow]

How to Fix Your Foot Pain (And A Bunch of Other Pains While Youre At It)

so foot pain is a pretty ubiquitous problem, and part of the reason it's so common is that it all comes from roughly the same source, barring more exceptional conditions. foot pain is also the source of a whole slew of problems that occur further up the body--properly addressing foot pain can make a huge difference in chronic pain throughout the entire body.

so source of 99% of foot pain cases is something known as morton's foot syndrome, which is known by many other names including my own name for it: neander foot. if you want to look into it yourself, search for morton's foot syndrome (not to be confused with morton's neuroma) or take a look at some of the posts i've made about it on this blog, but for the rest of this post i'll be referring to it as neander foot.

i won't go into what exactly neander foot is or why it's so common in this post, but the short story is that neander foot makes the feet and ankles unstable. think of it like a tower with a sinking foundation. unlike a tower though, the human body has muscles that can compensate for a shaky base.

however, this is how pain develops throughout the rest of the body. compensating for neander foot isn't good for the muscles in the long term, and especially in a society that overworks its people, the strain can cause pretty severe disability over time.

a quick disclaimer before we get to the meat of the post: you won't find many people who talk about neander foot the way that i do. posts like these are pulled together from a combination of formal research, personal research, observation, and experience. but i know what works, and i have high hopes that it will work for you too.

--

there are four ways that people compensate for neander foot:

toe walking - weight primarily on the toes.

heel walking - weight primarily on the heel.

bracing - rolling the foot outwards to walk on the outer edge, keeping weight off of the big toe.

collapsing - rolling the foot inwards to keep weight on the big toe.

most people use some combination of these. the easiest way to tell which is by looking at the uneven wear on shoe soles, but the muscles you treat are all pretty much the same regardless of which compensation method you fall into.

first, you NEED padding under the big toe. either some diy with moleskin from the pharmacy section (make sure it's thick enough! bare minimum you want 3mm of padding, ideally up to 6mm) or you can buy insoles specially made for neander foot here (this is the only place i know of that makes them correctly, you can't get away with walmart insoles). this will help restore some stability to the feet and make walking and standing easier.

--

next, you need to treat the overworked muscles, which all lie in the outside of the calf: the gastrocnemius, tibialis anterior, fibularis longus/brevis, and soleus muscles.

if you take a moment to squeeze these muscles while you're sitting down and relaxing, they will most likely feel firm and tense, like trying to squeeze a bouncy ball. they might be sore, and the muscles themselves might feel like thick, fleshy rods. this isn't how relaxed muscles should feel! muscles that feel like have been overworked!

fortunately, it's pretty easy to treat overworked muscles using heat, massage, and stretches (typically in that order). within a couple weeks of regular massage, there will be a world of difference.

one of the easiest massages for the calves is using your opposite knee. don't be afraid to apply extra pressure with your hands, the broad surface of the knee means you don't have to worry about injuring yourself. it might hurt or feel like you aren't getting very far at first, but keep it up for a few days and see if you notice any positive changes.

(depending how fucked your shit is, you might need to go easy while your body takes time to heal. don't be surprised if you feel tired the day after a session.)

another method is to take a tennis ball in your hand or use the opposite heel as massage tools, especially for the tibialis and the fibularis muscles near the front of the leg. do your best to massage the full length of the muscle, from the ankles to the knees.

--

stretching is best done after massage. personally, i keep track of where i feel discomfort or pain when stretching, and massage those spots as i stretch. keep in mind that stretching the right muscles will be difficult--part of the reason compensation patterns arise is from the body subconsciously avoiding stretching these muscles, because its difficult and it hurts. it takes time and effort to lengthen these muscles again after they've been tensed up for so long.

below are some stretches for the calves, but it's not a bad idea to search online for stretches that target each of the muscles i discussed earlier.

--

and finally, i'll leave you with an exercise that will help restore the foot itself

by pointing the big toe down and pulling the outer foot upwards, you can begin to build strength in the associated muscles--because they counter the compensation patterns of neander foot, they get weak and underused compared to other muscles in the leg.

Ideally, you wont need to do these stretches forever. One of my greatest issues with recovery had always been that stretching as maintenance did not keep up with my body's breakdown--precisely because the core of the problem (neander foot) hadn't been treated. I could do all the stretches in the world but it didn't make up for the rate at which the damage was occuring. so i hope you feel better after trying this treatment, and whether you succeed or fail i'd love to hear from people, because i'm always trying to learn better ways to treat neander foot so that it can help as many people as possible.

if the subject interests you, i'll add links to resources both made by me and by people who i've learned from as i reached these conclusions.

Resources

Triggerpoints and pain

How to relax

Uses of Heat and Cold

More Info on Neader Foot

Info about neander foot from people who aren't me

[queenofallimagines]

Blue lock NSFW HCs

A/n: so since I’ve let this anime take over my life completely I feel I’m overqualified to give better hcs and since I don’t have a specific scenario in this is general headcanons💕 (pls request blue lock I have brainworms)

Blue lock:

- off the bat isagi telling us he has a thigh fetish is so real it me he keeps his hands on your thigh at all times

- Really one hand on the steering wheel the other just barely in your pants fingering you

- They all kinda got that sauce in ‘em yk?

- Isagi can say “pretty thing” or “sweetness” in that low ass voice and it will have you on your knees

- NAGI CALLING YOU PRETTY

- Idk WHERE that shit came form but every fic he just calls you pretty and that’s def canon that man is 6”3 so hear me out

- This big ass man who’s usually lazy and barely paying attention putting in that work on you, keeping you pressed into the bed with his full body weight

- Mumbling in your ear in his monotone voice that’s just one octave lover

- “Cmon pretty, gunna come f’me?” he’s looking at you with his egoist eyes

- Will have you in between him and Reo

- Sorry but that’s just as canon as bachira and isagi it’s gunna happen at LEAST once

- Seishiro can run with the best of them w that ego too like he says he’s a pacifist but he’s squared up first on someone like 4 times😭

- He Probably offhandedly mentions something about you in convo with Reo and you’re done for

- They’re like gaming or something and you walk into the room

- “I’ll prove it- hey come here for a sec” and now all of a sudden you’re seated in between his delicious thighs being fingered open by nagi in front of Reo like he’s giving a tutorial😭

- I see y’all’s saying Reo would do that for inexperienced nagi but I raise you that Reo only has casual flings and has been intimate with nagi so he’s not used to their duo being a trio

- Nagi spreading your legs keeping them wide open for Reo to see everything while he leans over your shoulder and makes sure he’s focused on what he’s doing

- Something something good with his givers because gamer

- He’s working you open with his huge fingers almost unbothered by the fact that your squirming and grabbing at his arm

- Reo is a little flustered but he’s def paying attention

- They’re acting like they’re talking about the weather like you not gushing all over his fingers

- Makes you cum like three times this way before he says “Reo is pretty good with his tongue, can he have a taste too?”

- Nagi and his crazy stamina will not let you rest!

- RIN! My beloved baby boy!

- He’s a FREAK like freaky NASTY and mean about it too!

- Little slow on the uptake but once you really start learning about each other he’s working out all his frustrations on you

- Not very emotive but he’s blunt so he will make his feelings perfectly clear

- Brat tamer by default bc you push his buttons

- “Keep that same energy when I get you alone”

- Fucks you in the locker rooms

- Likes you wearing his jersey while he does it

- Had hella pictures and videos of it too that you don’t remember him taking😭

- Keep him company on his long away games💕

- Everyone knows he’s having good sex bc he has scratch marks all over his back and dares someone to say shit about them

- Since like every single one of his dispositions is bc of Sae you have to be patient with him

- The itoshi issue is that they will have conflicts in their head, decide what YOU are gunna say and make choices silently based off that

- Like bitch if you don’t TALK TO ME??

- Rin will not start the convo and avoid you in a fight bc in his mind he fucked up and you never want to see him again but like did I say that??

- You gotta go to him and be like say what the fuck you’re thinking :/

- Both the itoshi brothers are rough

- Rin will use his insane stamina to fuck you right to sleep like he’s trying to watch a game stop playing w him

- Probably end up fucking you with or in-front of isagi

- One thing about Rin Itoshi is that he has something to prove always

- Sae and shidou you already know lmao

- My favs?? Come the fuck ON they have nasty ass sex daily

- Sae count your fucking days bc imma best your ass 😐

- However,,, the dynamic between him and Ryusei is too tasty to ignore

- Sae and his butt fetish will usually do anal if you’re taking both of them at once

- His dick is really pretty you and shidou have full length discussions about it and he is TIRED

- Sae likes to think he has you two on a leash and for the most part he kinda does

- But you might as well be on demon time too bc once you and Ryusei tag them

- Him??

- The great cold and calculated Sae Itoshi the gem of Japan will be a whiny little Bitch

- Likes to piss you off so you’ll be rough with him and Shidou right there with you

- You’re both fed up with his shit so you decide to punish him

- You edging him while Ryu fucks him mercilessly

- Imagine you’re riding him reverse cowgirl and shidou is fucking him so hard and deep he can’t breathe

- You two doing that whole outwardly ignoring him kissing while he wants you to pay attention to him clawing at your lower back and hips

- Moaning out “sorry” and babbling nonsense

- Cums a lot and it’s thick in consistency

- Whimpers when you and shidou taste him on each other and he can’t kiss either of you

- Tears steaming down his face while he struggles to keep his eyes from rolling back and can barely even say what he wants because he’s moaning so much

- Aftercare is so cute bc you both clean him up and give him as many kisses as he wants

- That really fixes his attitude LMAO

- Isagi can get pretty try mean too you trigger that ego and he’s just as ruthless as he is in the field

- “You think I’m gunna let you cum after you spent all day on my nerves? Be serious”

- He’s big on eye contact

- Will sit back in a chair and stare at you as he makes you ride him with no help

- “Go on, you wanted it, ain’t you?”

- Spanks you hard

- Chigiri hyoma is HUNG

- like oh my god pretty face huge dick

- People paint him as like corset when he’s like really mild mannered and mean? Lmao his egoist profile even says he’s mean

- He’s blunt and says exactly what he means

- If “okay?? AND??” Was a person😭

- Will get choked up if you kiss the scar on his knee when you go down on him

- “Cmon you can take more than that can’t you?”

- He can go fast but likes going slow and deep

- Really savor the moment

- Wants to feel every second of you going up and down his dick

- Meanie!!

- “You’re creaming around me already and I’ve barely made it all the way in”

- Preps you really good before hand too that’s like mandatory even if you’re ready he’s going to have you cum on his tongue or fingers first

- Gets pussy drunk a lot and ends up fucking himself into overstimulation

- Liked his hair pulled on

- Barou? Whew the king definitely deserves that title!

- A big fan of slow and deep like Chigiri

- Will make you face him as he fucks up into you

- “Quit wining and take it, you’re the one who kept begging for me to fuck you all day”

- Will clean the sheets fully after sex like lmao he’s changing the whole bed

- Let’s see hiori too! People like to say the self proclaimed “ultra sadist” as like just a bottom all the time

- He’s more mean and doesn’t care about it

- “Ow! That kinda hurt!”

- “Hm? Good”

- Big fan of face fucking

- Shidou alone is very baby

- I’m his defense lawyer yall like he’s an aquifer taste so you can not like him

- But that’s your fault and a skill issue💅🏿✨

- He’s the unhinged very soon of isagi very emotionally intelligent and can read a room

- He simply does not CARE about others

- Very ‘if people are going to isolate me then I’ll push them away’ vibes

- Like he rly has a connection w the whole cast minus rin and kunigami

- If he hadn’t took a kick at isagi him and bachira would be besties!🥺

- They understand the same type of loneliness

- Back to the horny

- He will split you open on his cock any time of the day

- He’s very god at anatomy and chemistry like look at how tf he talks

- HES LITERALLY A STRAIGHT A STUDENT!

- Has a breeding kink in canon

- “If you keep my cum inside you for the whole game I’ll eat it out of you when we win”

- Cock bastard also

- Rin def walked in on you two once and it haunts him

- Seeing your face utterly fucked out not caring that you’re both locking eyes while shidou who’s blissfully unaware keeps bullying his fat cock into you against the lockers🤭

- He can’t look you in the face for like a month lol

- Chigiri like pegging and kunigami can suck dick rly well

- Don’t ask me how ik I just KNOW Mr. Bisexual representation has had a relationship with a guy who he was intimate with

- Bachira likes to paint your face white

- Loved seeing you with his cum on your face

- Won’t tell you he’s close when you suck him off on purpose sometimes

- “Oops, my bad! You do look pretty like this tho☺️” be so the fuck fr

[erosmutt]

/ thinkin' bout﹒☆

﹒pornstar (holovid star😭) Han plzplzplzzz﹒⌅

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ★ sextoys (fleshlight), brief hanleia and skysolo mentions, earth curse words bc "fuck" sounds better than "kriff," detailed description of him cumming⠀★⠀⠀─⠀⠀WRITTEN BY EROSMUTT 25.03.30

Most holovid stars have themes for their content, something that's their brand. They're usually predictable based on the look of the model ─ for example, Twi'leks and Togrutas are mostly all about making sexualizing themselves and their lekku and montrals their whole personality (which is mostly true for the Twi'lek women, considering nearly the entire galaxy does the same).

Han Solo, on the other hand, does not.

Everyone is in his videos ─ men, women, alien, human ─ it doesn't matter to him. Although he does have favorites, like the brunette with the pretty rosy cheeks and the twink with the blonde hair. He'll even, no pun intended, do solo content, and an old solo live video just so happens to be his most popular.

Han sits in front of the camera, one hand behind his head, tangling in his own hair as he fucks himself with a fleshlight. The squelching echoes through the room he's in, and he's already on his third orgasm.

"Oh, my gods," he gasps, back arching. His hairy chest and stomach and thighs glisten with sweat, and a mixture of lube and cum spills down his balls, onto the seat beneath him that creaks as he bucks his hips up to meet the toy. "Shit, just like that, baby, mmh,"

The camera is panned just above his boots, and he still has his holster on, the leather feeling uncomfortable around his sticky body. Comments flood the live, little sound effects of gifts and credits coming in falling on deaf ears as he continues to fuck himself. The audience can tell he's approaching another orgasm by the way his moans become more wanton and high pitched.

"Fuck," he grunts, untangling his other hand from his hair to grab the fleshlight, giving him more control. He leans forward, stands up, braces himself with a hand on the wall and starts to thrust, his hair falling into his face, fluffy strands bouncing with the movement.

Han's abs flex, his eyes roll back, his hands tremble, and he lets out a deep, guttural moan from down in his chest as a shudder racks his entire body. The fourth and final orgasm of the night, and it's nearly suffocating ─ the hardest by far. His chest heaves, lungs desperately drawing in air after that breathtaking session. He's unintentionally giving the camera a good close up, his huge body taking up the entire frame. "Goddamn," he pants, slowly pulling out of the toy, his dick slipping free with a nasty 'plop.'

The comments beg and plead to see him. Han staggers back and sits back down, his head falling back. He runs his hands through his hair and swallows, nostrils flaring. "I don't think I've ever cum so hard," he laughs breathlessly before sitting up straight and looking at the screen. Upon seeing the chat praising him, he flashes the camera a lopsided grin. "Thank you, thank you."

After finally catching his breath, Han stands up, grabbing a towel he previously set to the side and lazily cleaning himself off. When he turns around to wipe down his chair, the live floods with more people praising him and his body, the curve of his ass, the definition in his thighs . . . it's enough to make them ─ the horny, touch starved viewers ─ salivate, and he would have it no other way.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Han asks the camera. The worst part of his streams has arrived ─ the inevitable farewell. He gives a little wave and grins before ending it. He'll be back the next day, no doubt. How else will he pay off his debts?

♱ @102hannah ⋆ @addictedtohobi ⋆ @brooklynb8by ⋆ @sammonroesangel ⋆ @speaknow-sw ⋆ @anakinstwinklebunny ⋆ @vilemorals555 ⋆ @lacebird ⋆ @schizo-toddhoward

♱ @zapernz ⋆ @jediavengers ⋆ @enchant5d ⋆ @trippyhippywitch ⋆ @valloos ⋆ @piastricentric ⋆ @gallerygourmet ⋆ @anakinsbbgirl ⋆ @ilovekmchenzie ⋆ @s1ck-skv1l ⋆ @offthethirlwall ⋆ @tfmerc

♱ @starlmbed ⋆ @slutforfinnickodair ⋆ @geekforhorror ⋆ @necromancerrrs ⋆ @theladykassia ⋆ @thesassypadawan ⋆ @cocobear18 ⋆ @anisangeldust ⋆ @fredswrite ⋆ @byunnue

♱ @cherriies-snake ⋆ @haydenslittlegirl ⋆ @espinathena-17 ⋆ @fallout-girl219 ⋆ @xhunnybeeex ⋆ @radiantvader ⋆ @urmomsgirlfriend1 ⋆ @hayden-christensen-verse ⋆ @dreamygirli3 ⋆ @awhhayden

[4ngels0uls]

“AT MY FUCKING PARTY?!?” - C.B

don’t like? don’t read.

based off this.

summary: johnnie, jake, and carrington are hosting a party at their house, as it’s so called the “evil party” and y/n is with them, helping set up the party. as they all get drunk y/n gets drunk and does a huge mistake making carrington mad, making them fuck each other.

paring: fem!reader + bsf!carrington

warnings: SMUT, strong language, overstimulation, no condom (don’t be a dumbass and wrap it up.), oral fem!receiving, pulling out, not on the pill😟, a lil dirty talk, etc. (im too tired for this shit.)

a/n: this is going to be sitting in my drafts for months. 😋

————————————————————

1st person pov

“when the fuck is the party supposed to start?” johnnie asks as jake is still continuing to set it up. “can you stop being a jackass and fucking help me set up?” jake scolds johnnie. johnnie rolls his eyes and sighs. i stare as jake continues to scold johnnie, them going back and forth. “fucking shut up!” i yell at them before going to the washroom.

“jeez..” johnnie says quietly to jake. carrington walks out of his room. “wassupppp” he says while sticking his tongue out. he sees jake and johnnie setting up. “hey? where’s y/n?” carrington asks. “she’s all pissy.” johnnie says. “oh.” carrington answers. i sit in the bathroom, fixing my hair, and my makeup. “fuck sakes.” i whisper under my breath as i fucked up my makeup.

i sigh before grabbing a wipe and retrying. “i hate this.” i whisper to myself. carrington walks into the washroom. “hey.” carrington says, staring at me through the mirror. “hiii” i answer back. he smiles at me thru the mirror, admiring my looks. “your so pretty y/n.” carrington says. “thank you.” i say shyly, a hint of blush on my cheeks, then carrington turns around and goes back to johnnie and jake.

“what the fuck was that.” i whisper to myself, thoughts racing through my head. the words “your so pretty.” repeat in my head, he must be just saying that in a friendship way right? no his tone was off.. fuck! we’re just friends! nothing else. i think to myself, as so i say.

———————————————————-

i sigh to myself as i stare at everyone drinking, dancing, and having fun as i stand alone, holding a red solo cup, the alcohol just sitting in the cup. the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, weed and many other things that i inhale through my nose, the smell being pretty bad. i walk off to carringtons room, the overstimulation catching up to me. i take a breath as i walk into carringtons room, the sound of music and people talking coming from the other side of the door.

carrington walks in with his red solo cup, seeing me sitting alone on my phone. “oh! y/n? what’s wrong” carrington asks instantly seeing the bummed look on my face. “nothing, just overstimulated.” i lie a little, and carrington not being able to tell. “oh.. alright.” he answers back. he walks over to his bathroom as i stare up and follow him. he stares at himself in the mirror, then looking at me through the mirror.

“you sure your good?” he asks, to make sure. “yeah.” i answer dryly. he gives me a little smile. he sighs. “some girl puked on me, i gotta change.” he says, obviously bummed out. he walks over to his bedroom, going to go change his clothes, i follow behind him like a lost puppy. he grabs pants and a t shirt. “this looks good right?” he asks. “yeah” i say as i give him a reassuring smile. “alright good” he smiles back.

he slides his shirt covered in puke off of his body, his abs and v line reveals to my eyes, i stare, not meaning to. he chuckles, “like what you see?” he asks. “uh..” i say nervously. “y-yeah.” i say awkwardly. he smirks before walking up to me and hovering above me, he lifts my chin up to look him in the eyes, we lock eyes as he goes down and whispers “you wanna see more?” in a raspy tone. “i-“ i studder in shock.

all i can do is nod at this point, too shocked to say a word. “words.” he says in a raspy tone. “y-yes.. yeah..” i say nervously, as he smirks down at me and pushes me down on the bed and kisses me passionately, our mouths moving in sync immediately, little pants coming out of our mouths due to our make out. he pulls away to breathe and smirks. he tugs on the hem of my t shirt. i nod, giving him the permission to pull my shirt off. he moves immediately and pulls my shirt over my head, throwing it somewhere on the ground.

he reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra. finding a way to my neck, nipping and kissing my neck gently, making little noises come out of my mouth. my bra falls off my body and is now somewhere on the ground, “your so beautiful.” carrington whispers into my ear gently. my cheeks heat up a bit. carrington continues to nip at my neck, now starting to undo his jeans, smirking down at me. “you alright with this my love?” carrington asks softly. “mhm” i hum. he smiles at my response.

“you on the pill..?” he asks quietly. i shake my head no. “fuck… i don’t think i got condoms. “pull out..” i say very quietly. he shoots his head at me fast. “ya sure?” he asks. and i nod in response. “alright.” he smiles and lays me down on his bed, crawling on top of me, now hovering above me. he kisses me softly, then he begins to kiss down my chest, to my waist, then the waist band of my pants. he looks up at me and slides my pants down.

he stops to see if i show any sort uncomfortableness. i nod for him to keep going, and he smiles up at me and tugs my pants off. he throws them somewhere on the ground. then to my lacy thong. “cute.” he chuckles before taking them off. he kisses my inner thighs softly, edging his way to my core. i let a little whine out, getting eager. he chuckles and kisses my clit softly. i gasp at the sudden feeling. then he begins to suck on my clit softly. my fingers instantly latch onto his locks. “f-fuck carrington.” i moan softly before putting my legs on his shoulders and let go of his hair.

the sounds of the music, the people talking loudly on the other side of the door but i can think about is carrington eating me out. i lay back and moan softly, closing my eyes and basically grinding on his face. he chuckles against my core. “so eager” he says with my juices all over his mouth. i chuckle the the sight. “what’s so funny?” he asks while smiling. “nothing..” i say quietly and lay back down as he continues to go down on me. i begin to squeeze my thighs around his head. i start to chase my climax, feeling it come closer and closer. “i-i’m gunna cum carrington.” i cry out. “go ahead, cum for me.” he says against my core.

i arch my back pretty far and moan, releasing myself into his pretty little mouth. he backs away from my core and licks the juices of his lips. “you tease so good.” he smiles childishly. i chuckle at him. he begins to line his dick in between my slick folds. i bite my lip at that sight. he begins to push himself into my core, going deeper and deeper. my core is swallowing all the inches he has, it starting to become painful. “o-ow” i studder. carrington immediately looks worried at my words and looks at me. “you okay??” he says worriedly. “m-mhm.” i mumble. “okay good.” he smiles as he sits still, inside of me.

“are you okay for me to move?” carrington asks. “yeah” i say. he begins to thrust his hip slowly, his pelvis hitting my clit softy each thrust. he tries to find my g spot, moving in such different places till he eventually finds it. i moan as he finds the sweet spot. “iii found it.” he says, sounding happy. i smile at his happiness. he begins to thrust himself harder and faster, making me moan harder and faster. his pelvis now hitting my clit harder, making the pleasure build up more. “mhph fuck carrington..” i moan like a fucking porn star. he obviously feels more turned on by me moaning his name and now starts to thrust faster.

i grip on the the pillows behind my head and arch my back, like this is the fucken best dick i’ve ever had, and which it is. i squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my release come closer and closer each thrust. “f-fuck i’m close y/n” he groans in-between thrusts. “m-me too.” i studder. “cum for me pretty girl.” he says softly. i begin to breathe heavily, my pussy clenching around his thick length. “f-fuck!” i practically scream out from releasing onto carrington.

carrington grunts before releasing his thick liquid into my core. he pulls out slowly, trying not to overstimulate me. “your so pretty..” he whispers into my ear. “thank you.” i says shyly. he smiles and gets up to grab a warm wet cloth. he wipes the extra release off of my core. he begins to put his clothes back on and i get up to do the same. he leans to kiss me, kissing me softly on the lips. i instantly kiss him back.

he smiles before leaving the room. after a bit i also leave the room, after trying to fix myself up at bit. i walk up to jake. “hey where were you?” jake asks me. “oh i was hanging out with carrington for a bit.” i say quietly. “o- why do you look so rough..?” jake questions. “uhh i really don’t know.” i say as i walk off to get a drink. jake obviously shrugs it off and leaves me be. i grab a drink and chug it then grab another, then after my 2nd i don’t remember shit. i wake up on the couch, everyone gone, the red solo cup absolutely everywhere.

i sit up, jake laying on the other side of the couch, carrington on the other side, and johnnie is ofc.. in his room. i hold my head from the pounding headache. i look over and see johnnie standing in the kitchen. “i heard you and carrington..” johnnie says, looking pretty shook. i go completely silent. “w-what do you mean?” i ask. “oh you guys fucking is what i mean.” johnnie blurts out. i sit there, shocked as jake sits up and yells “AT MY FUCKING PARTY?!?” and carrington obviously wakes up from this and looks at me, and i look back. “GROSS!” jake yells. then carrington goes completely pale.

————————————————————

A/N

part 2 ?? 😭😭

it was infact in my drafts for months..

sorry this took so long😣

[sugar-omi]

OMFG DUDE I was thinking abt coves dick again (as one does 🤭) and just realized w the dick size math that cove prolly bought normal condoms before yall went ‘all the way’ bc he didn’t kno he was huge (like u said in that one ramble like “move ur arm” “that’s not my arm”)

so when yall actually get into it and he tries to put it on u just have an awkward moment where he’s like

“it’s too small🧍‍♂️”

and now he’s apologizing for ‘ruining’ ur ‘real’ first time together and ur torn between comforting him that he didn’t ruin shit and laughing bc usually when guys say that it’s a fucking lie but he’s actually so deadass and u can see it the way the rubber doesn’t even accommodate his tip 😭💀

then u gotta tell him it’s okay to hold off until yall get bigger condoms or ur okay going raw if he is 🤭🤭🤭

-🗑️

ARGHH YOU ARE NOT HELPING MY ACCIDENTAL CREAMPIE BRAINROT. "the way the rubber doesnt even accommodate his tip" ohhh god biting my lips off my face rn. i can't fucking....

he would be too scared to go raw, especially first time. he knows that's a demon he's not ready to face (if you ask, he'll say he worried about any accidental children. but deep, deep in his mind. he knows something will, and does, click when you do it raw and he cums in you the first time...)

mmm, there's a few different ways to go with this...

because I can see cove waiting, im sure he does. he does wait, he wants things to be perfect (as perfect as 2 virgins fucking for the first time can be) and for you guys to avoid any unwanted scares or accidents.

but I also love the thought of him being impatient..

he buys the "right" condoms the second time around, and it doesn't look exactly right... but it's definitely not as small as last time...

decides to go with it after a bit of inner turmoil... "..maybe it's meant to fit that way? I thought it was supposed to go all the way to the base, though. its a bit tight, too... fuck, it'd be way too embarrassing to get the size wrong again. not that y/n would bully me about it or something, but... argh, I really want this to be perfect too. and I wanna go all the way with her..."

or even if he buys the right size, perhaps doesn't realize, or chooses the thin condoms since that's what was left. doesn't realize how different the thin ones are, especially of they're the ultra thin.

eitherway, all~~ circles back to right now. he's sinked into you, and he is gentle, he wants your first time to be romantic after all. but as he gets closer n closer to the edge, he gets a bit excited, his hips thrusting deeply into you.. all he can think about is how much he loves you, your pretty sounds, your body pressed against his, and the tight heat of your cunt.

doesn't realize when it breaks, not really anyway. gasps and moans because fuck you feel so hot inside, so wet and perfect... too far gone to think about the sudden change in sensation. and when he finishes, he definitely doesn't think about it. too lost in the feeling of his cum filling up the "condom" and your walls tightening around him as you finish too.

also love the thought that regardless of if he buys the right size or the thin, or if he remembers to pinch the tip of the rubber, all that sweet stuff.. he still ends up cumming inside you. not noticing if he teared the rubber in his hurry to be inside you already (blame teenage hormones, it's not his fault yeah 🙏)

of course not blowing his full load inside you, but i like to think that he cums so much, its really a miracle he doesn't break the rubbers from that amount alone... either way it's gonna leak out, n even just that little bit..

but regardless of how it happens, once he gets past the initial stress of it all n you get past the scare. his mind is totally filled with thoughts of actually coming inside you..

n even his dreams are filled with the image of your cunt all twitchy and wet with fluids n a bit puffy from all the fucking, n having earlier ate you out in the dream, n his fat load of cum leaking out of your cunt...

can't look you in the eye. he's totally ruined... probably can't look his parents in the eye either since he promised to be responsible, but now he's dreaming and fantasizing of doing otherwise..

[slowpokedragon]

fellow huntlow hater. roast them

YAAAAYY OK HERE I GO

fandom ruined it - why is willow commonly hotsexy fat girl w huge boobies OR extremely ooc shy when we know her personality changed after her memories were burned. why is hunter always uwu shy boy when hes got pretty fucking severe anger issues, theyre just leashed.

boring - literally zero taste ship. what do they even have in common aside from flyer derby. fucking amity and hunter have more chemistry (does anybody remember eclipse lake CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME)

comphet nightmare - WILLOW... WILLOW YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A BUTCH LESBIAN... WILLOOOOOWW!!!! WILLOWWW!!!!!!!!!!!

no chemistry - LITERALLY THIS. fuck man idek what else to say they just dont have shit in common! willow literally triggers him in FTF w the flapjack photo and then shes like "ohh... im sooo sorry i did this... im gonna run away and cryyh....." HUH? why is she making it about herself ?? literally forced to be ooc for sake of ship... why is hunter comforting her abt this during her ooc as shit breakdown when by all right he has a right to be angry and has been shown to be the type to hold a grudge? and for that fucking matter, willow has never actually been the type to "smile and hold it all in" in the same way that luz is. she WOULD actually rely on camila and talk to her, because shes used to having good parents she can rely on. (not to say camila is a bad parent, but clearly she and luz struggle communication wise.) I MUST ALSO COMPLAIN... WHEN DOES ANYBODY CALL HUNTER "HALF A WITCH"? HE IS LITERALLY A TEEN PRODIGY. people dont even know hes powerless without his staff, we LITERALLY SEE LUZ REALIZE THIS ON SCREEN!!!? why the FUCK is canon trying to tell me that they can bond over being called "half a witch"? BULL FUCKING SHIT

stupid, in an annoying way - willow and hunter are both in turns forced to be the damsel in distress for ship moments when theyre both extremely competent combatants and the struggles they face that enable those ship moments are Fucking Dumb.

how tf is this even a ship? - literally forced to be ship by the show... hunter my beloved you could have been the lumity homewrecker (and i have THOUGHTS on how Nothing the lumity ship is and how dirty they did amitys character)

keep that girl away from him! - ah yes willow, the forceful character who tends to impose her will on her friends post memory episode, and has even used magic to restrain hunter before (flyer derby episode); im sure this will be great for hunter's self actualization and cause zero backsliding in regards to him being used to being the caretaker for belos who bends to his will under every single thing and is a people pleaser and has only been shown to be himself properly around luz (and gus to a lesser extent)!!!!!

i can fix them if i actually cared - this would require a real huntlow based episode where they talk things out and willow becomes uncomfortable with how hunter is willing to do anything for her and even gets her things before she asks (like, if she mentions being thirsty, before she even gets up hes already back with a glass of water and an expression akin to a dog awaiting praise.) this compounds over the episode until she freaks out a bit and then sits him down and asks what His Fucking Deal Is and hes forced to confront his people pleaser nature, and resolves to change for the better.

its genuinely just bad. - REEKS of "oh shit we gotta pair everybody off except not gus cuz hes a baby but we will also shiptease him and matt btw youre never getting a proper mlm ship Fuck You". ...also i must once again complain about ooc willow. why does she only reciprocate hunter's crush after he isnt disabled anymore (unable to use magic)? like, its not a good look. yikes! once again i must also complain abt the writers turning hunter from bratty and sarcastic to the malewife for the girlboss x malewife trope... why did they do this to you king. i will not deny willow becomes a girlboss though, she genuinely changes as a person, but why does she become so over the top aggressive towards hunter specifically, mandhandling him w magic like she does to NOBODY else, and forcing her will on him?? its fucking weird

i need the shippers to die - INSUFFERABLE! FUCK MAN who give a shit whats canon!! fuck off and leave me alone i will ship lunter, willuz, amillow, and huntmity as i please!! why must you harass us! "weh weh luz and hunter have a sibling relationship" if you dont fuck off and leave me alone they are LITERALLY JUST FRIENDS why must everything be nuclear family tropes to you people. do you understand that found family does not mean any ships within that dynamic become incestuous? the entire point is that it is a Found Family which dynamics differ from a traditional familial dynamic!! I Am Going To Wring Your Neck.

better as friends - everyday i think about the ending credits of WAD and willow leading hunter down the hill... how cute would that have been as a friends scene... i wouldnt even have been mad if it was shiptease post canon w zero other shippy content

NO ONE GETS THEM BUT ME!!!! - ohhhhhuuuuhhhhhggggghhh... huntlow i ship you under such specific circumstances...... adult huntlow my dream..........!!!!!!!! LESBIAN BUTCH WILLOW FEMME TGIRL HUNTER HUNTLOW???? GAAAHHHHH

just make ocs atp - re: being ooc as shit in most content. someone please give hunter his anger issues swag back. also im just gonna tangentially complain that I Do Not Like Tboy Hunter. just... puts a hand on the fandom's shoulder. think about how that would work in canon for a minute. why would philip create a grimwalker meant to mimic his brother and then not give it an AMAB body. be so fucking for real right now. i dont wanna hear shit about "what if caleb trans" in a serious argument sense. no he is not it was the 1600s and they were already ostracized from gravesfield upon moving there and became witch hunters to fit in! his ass would have been lynched for being a witch bc "only witches have gender nonconforming properties" was a real and actual thing back then. BE SO FOR REAL!!!!! and i dont wanna hear shit about "well what if hormone changing potions" because ONE hunter has completely different physiology and we do not actually know how potions work on him and TWO are you seriously trying to tell me philip wouldnt scrap a grimwalker with a completely incorrect set of genitalia. ARE YOU REALLY TELLING ME THAT THE WHITE CIS PURITAN MAN -

its too popular - literally i have the tag blocked and its just allllll filtered posts in hunter or willow's tags all the way down