#just pissed myself off a bit thinking about how so many people do that about our trauma and how fucking damaging it is

[system-of-a-feather]

So the past few days Lucille and Aderis did a "maternal coup" which apparently essentially is just the two of them chilling near the front, taking over in laying down the law on what we are doing and how we are spending out time to help keep me engaged and not dissociating into survival mode to brood on existential crisis-es of being near the end of one of the large pervasive and complex trauma-stressors

And its really honestly helped a lot in grounding me a bit cause I'm starting to get back around to the more adaptive thing and realizing that its actually kinda cool, that soon enough we can secure a good income and between my fiance and us working full time and us entirely skipping the "side mission" of raising children, we basically immediately jump into our "main story goals" being literally whatever the hell we like and want to do / achieve. Everything beyond what is achieved is "extra" cause we had "made it" enough to have relative stability.

From there on out, there isn't this larger need for a why related to survival, but rather just a "why not" and while that still sounds rocky depending on when you ask me, I'm really starting to warm up to it. The sandbox mode of this management sim was originally stressing me out and I thought it would have issues with motivation and all, but I guess I'm learning to answer "why should we" with "why SHOULDNT we" after sitting two days up here with our retired ex-primary protectors and XIV who - together - started talking about 'why not' goals because XIV commented that he needed a stool to sit on for his guitar and Lucille commented that we were likely moving so we shouldn't get one yet and should put it on a list of things we want to invest in.

Its also pretty neat because XIV, Lucille, and I are both really keen on setting money aside in the budget solely to donate to causes that matter, donate to people who need it, and to account in our life style to stay within the comfort levels where we don't have to be stressed or worry about 'if we can afford' giving people / donating money to those that need it more.

And that idea just sounds... kind of neat. In a way it kind of reminds me of when I was on my second / third year of marching band where I was no longer a "baby" and I could start adopting and fostering others while casually building my own interests and goals.

I dunno man, it sounds pretty neat. Of course its contingent on us actually getting a job (which I don't actually worry too much on with how Our System Is) but huh.

We can allocate funds into charity, because why not. We can allocate funds into eventually becoming the parrot behavioral master, because why not.

Our system is so adjusted to having to do everything min-maxed and living with only the bare necessities until like... the past year that the idea of no longer needing to be on bare necessities is just... Wild

It's also just hitting me that for a pair of disabled 22 year olds, my fiance and I have really done really good. I still can't necessarily say if it was worth it because I'm very shocked we are alive with the sheer amount of pressure and sheer lack of self indulgence and self care + the grind we've been on since before I can even remember and how much all of that was sacrificed to "do really good" but damn.

I'll probably spiral back if Lucille let me sit down and dissociate brood for more than half an hour, but I'm starting to - just maybe, accept and enjoy the fact that we.... we maybe... we maybe got it???

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[jareaul0ver]

hi baba! can you do a nika fic where like nilka get jealous cause reader was like being sassy and takes to someone else??

wc: 1.4k warnings: alcohol, angst, another girl getting touchy w reader, happy ending tho parings: nika muhl x fem!reader

"I'm gonna go get a drink, I'll be right back." You smiled at Nika, but she pulled your back by your arm before you could walk away.

"I think you've had enough for tonight." She gave you a knowing look at you glared at her.

You pulled your arm out of her grasp and rolled your eyes. "I think I can handle myself, thank you very much." You huffed before turning around and walking away.

Nika rolled her eyes at your antics, even though she was used to the way you acted. You went back over to the bar and ordered another of the same drink you had before.

A shorter blonde girl approached the bar and sat at the stool next to yours. She ordered her drink and whispered to the bartender that yours was on her.

You heard her though, and gave her an appreciative smile. "Thanks."

She smiled back at you, hers more flirtatious. "Don't mention it, pretty."

You brushed off the nick name as her being nice, as you usually did when you couldn't tell people were flirting with you. Both of your drinks were placed in front of you and she angled her head towards yours. "So, what's your name?"

"Y/N." You said over the blaring music coming from the speakers above the bar.

"Cute. I'm Maisy." She hopped off the barstool and her arm ghosted yours. You instinctively leaned away, but she grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the bar. "Come dance with me sweetheart."

You swallowed. "I uh, I don't dance."

She smirked. "Then let me teach you." She dragged you with her anyways. Your first thought immediately went to Nika and how pissed she would get. But you two weren't officially together. You never established that you were exclusive. It was practically just casually hooking up, so you brushed her out of your thoughts.

She had also annoyed you about having too many drinks a few too many times tonight, so you figured you'd get back at her in a way.

Once Maisy pulled you to the middle of the dance floor, she started brushing against you. She started at you seductively, and you stared back. You felt in your gut that this was wrong, so you took a sip of your drink and swallowed the feeling down.

The girl started to get a bit more touchy feely. Her hands ghosted your body, and she started to press against you. Your perception of everything happening was blurred by the amount of alcohol in your system, so you let it happen.

What you didn't realize was that Nika spotted you in the crowd ten minutes ago, and had been frustratingly watching everything commence. When she saw Maisy about to pull you in for a kiss, she had enough.

Within a split second you went from dancing with her to being pulled into the bathroom by Nika. You blinked a few times. "Neeks?" The nickname came out slurred.

She pulled the drink from your hand and set it on the bathroom sink. Luckily it was a single restroom, giving you two privacy. "The hell were you doing with that girl, Y/N?"

"Uh, dancing, duh." You reached for your drink but she pulled your arm away.

She sighed and frustration laced her voice. "You came here with me, why were you dancing with some other girl?"

You scoffed. "We aren't together." You made a move to leave the bathroom but she grabbed your arm and held you with her.

"The hell we aren't." The look on her face was pure jealousy, and you had a look of annoyance on yours.

"We- we aren't together, Nika." Your intoxicated brain let you say the words you knew would hurt her the most. "Stop being so jealous, I'm not yours."

The words hit her like a knife through the chest. "Are you kidding me?"

The defeated tone of her voice made you immediately regret what you said. "Wait, Nika I-" You frowned and looked down. "I didn't mean it."

She sighed and wiped her face with her hand. "Y'know what, go dance with that girl. I- I don't care." Her voice started to tremble and you reached up to hold her face with shaky hands.

"Nika, please." She could smell the alcohol on your breath and she pushed your hands away.

"Forget it." She turned around and quickly left the bathroom. You stood there, frozen, and watched her leave.

It had been almost two weeks of no contact with Nika after the incident at the bar. No texting, no phone calls, she ignored you in class. You were miserable.

You missed her so much, and you knew you fucked up. Your attitude always got you into situations you later regretted, but you never thought before you spoke.

What you failed to realize was how miserable Nika was without you. Had you two only been hooking up? Maybe, yeah, but Nika knew what she felt was more than just pleasure when you two would fuck.

A casual hookup wouldn't have her heart aching as much as you did. She wanted to reach out so bad, apologize for walking away, but she was too hardheaded to do anything about it.

It took you standing outside of the door to her dorm, taking a deep breath, and knocking before anything happened between the two of you again.

She swung open the door and stood there, frozen. You took in her appearance. A baggy sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants with some sort of pink stain on them, probably strawberry ice cream. You knew it was her favorite flavor.

Your eyes darted to her face and you saw the small circles beneath her beautiful brown eyes. Your face softened and you frowned.

"Hi." You breathed out.

"Hey." She said after a moment. She took a few steps back and held the door open, inviting you in silently. You followed her inside and she closed the door behind you.

You brought a small bouquet of flowers out from behind your back and held them towards Nika with a shaky hand. "I- I got you these."

She hesitated before taking them. "Thanks." She mumbled before making a move to the kitchen. She grabbed a tall glass and filled it up with water, then put the stem of the flowers in the glass.

This was the first sign that things were going to hopefully go well. "Why are you here?" She questioned flatly. Maybe things weren't going to go so well.

You sucked in a sharp breath. "To apologize."

"For what?" She stared at you. You stared back, confused.

"For what happened at the bar. I- I fucked up." You shifted awkwardly on your feet under her piercing gaze. "I should've listened to you about how many drinks I had, I shouldn't have danced with that girl, I shouldn't have said we weren't together-"

She took a step towards you and cut you off. "But you were right. We weren't- aren't together."

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, only a choked breath. Nika shook her head. "I fucked up too. You're allowed to do whatever with whoever, I shouldn't have gotten pissed at you."

"You had every right to be pissed at me." You stepped in front of her and cupped her face in your hands. You eyes started to water and you blinked back the tears. "Cause I don't think I'm the only one that doesn't want this to be just a hookup anymore."

The words came out barely above a whisper, and they hit Nika right in the chest. She tried her hardest to not give into your touch, but she could never deny you. Her hands fell to your waist and she pulled you into her. "I'm sick of ignoring you in class, asshole."

You laughed and Nika pressed her forehead against yours. "I don't think I can handle you ignoring me anymore." You moved your hands to rest at the back of her neck, gently scratching it with your nails. "I'm really sorry, Neeks."

"I know. I am too." She tilted her head and brushed her lips against yours. She felt your breath against her face and finally pressed her lips against yours.

You melted against her and wasted no time in kissing her back. It was brief and delicate, but it said a lot more than the two of you had all night.

She pulled back just enough to whisper, "How about we try again, together?"

You smiled and nodded. "I'd like that."

[reiderwriter]

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.

[thatsexcpisces]

Astrology observations pt.9 🌌💙🌀🦋

Disclaimer: again, these are just my experiences and personal observations on things I’ve encountered, I’m not a professional astrologer or saying that these are always correct.

Virgo risings have such a naturally beautiful “clean girl” look or are a perfect example of the “clean girl” aesthetic

Gemini and Pisces mercuries have a true talent when it comes to lying. They’re amazing of thinking quick on their feet or making up lies to get out of something because their excuses are so damn CREATIVE

I’ve noticed that almost every Pisces moon has puppy dog eyes. (Especially the men) It’s so easy for me to spot Pisces moons or other water moons because they just have these adorable doe eyes or their eyes look like those of lost puppies idk how to explain it💀 this is specifically something I see the most in cancer and Pisces moons, Scorpio moon’s eyes are also “puppy dog” but more intense.

Ex.) Michael Jackson, kanye west, and Ben stiller all have their moon in Pisces and they just have THAT look. Yk what I mean?? 💀

Capricorn Venus/Venus in 10h house people tend to kiss up to those who are popular or have some sort of prominent status because they want to be around people they think will make them look good

People with the same element of their rising sign tend to become friends or attract each other.

• For example, earth risings May tend to attract friends or become friends that have earth rising top. (Cap, Virgo, Taurus rising.) I’m a Libra rising and my closest friends have usually been other Libra risings and Aquarius risings.

People with Virgo in the big 3 are goody two- shoes

Most Libra moons I’ve met have luxurious or comfortable home lives like they may have a good relationship with their family and are the type to have an aesthetic home routine (ex. My friend has a Libra moon and her family always bakes together or they sit and watch a movie together at their mountain house and drink hot chocolate & shit like that lmao)

Pluto in 2h people truly are obsessed with their money and possessions. As someone with this placement myself, I can say that the most Pluto 2h thing I did was hide even the smallest amounts of money in the most secretive places so they wouldn’t be stolen, not sleep unless I found that necklace or top that I realized went missing, and literally got in the faces of people who owed me money until I got that shit back😭

why do so many sun in Scorpio men get rejected so much by girls😭 this is just something I noticed but most of them tend to feel unlucky in love either cause they’re very active pursuers when they’re interested in someone and sometimes come off a bit too strong and then they end up feeling insecure abt themselves after getting shut down by their love Interests. They’re so hot tho

Venus-Neptune aspect people: how’s it going idealizing and fantasizing about your crush that are really not as amazing as you’re making them seem?

Scorpio Venus people’s flirting style is staring at you intensely but not approaching you or saying anything

Leo risings and moons would rather swallow a jean jacket and DIE then to have people see them at their worst or see that stuff they’ve been bragging about and “good stuff” happening in their life that they talk about to people to impress them and be popular, is not actually true or happened lol. They’re always keep that perfect image of themselves to others

Capricorn risings have this face where it looks like they literally couldn’t care less about you or anything you’re saying. Or they just look bored of being in your presence and wanna leave

Don’t piss of a Gemini moon. They take revenge through their biggest strength: gossiping and then spreading that shit. They’ll have the whole building hate you a day later over some rumor they made up of you and managed to convince others is true

If you have Venus in your 12th house you’re gonna go through many karmic relationships in your life time

Libra risings can be the darkest or shittiest people on the inside but that Venus-ruled aura or just their looks or the way they carry themselves will literally make people delusional into thinking they’re an angel on earth

Pisces in big 3 culture is being told “why is your head always in the clouds? ” or “are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Constantly because those daydreams will literally get the best of them

Aquarius And Capricorn men when they were younger give me the vibes of those nerds in school who literally don’t care what anyone thinks and won’t have an issue calmly roasting or talking back to a bully but would never be able to physically fight them instead they just use sarcastic and monotone sentences to win. 💀

Fixed sign moons especially Scorpio moons attract so many people who are possessive and obsess over them

If a Sagittarius moon feels betrayed by you or is angry with you to the point that you did something they can’t ever forgive, they won’t bother getting revenge or being upset and shady with you. They will simply just erase your existence from their life and forget about you. They can still act nice and behave normally with you but that’s only because they master indifference and the concept of acting like you just came and left, which will hurt you the most.

I swear Mercury in the 5h or 8h people house think about sex on a daily basis omg

Aquarius and Sagittarius Venuses always attract each other somehow. They’re a good pairing

[silv3rswirls]

Fawn

warnings: 18+, age gap(reader is 18), coercion, corruption, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, gaslighting and manipulation, alcoholism, some religious themes/talk, virgin/innocent reader, dark thoughts/fantasies, very vague mentions of familial abuse, shamming, obsession, overall yoongi is a ✨creep✨

Note: sometimes I piss myself off because I've been dying over this fic for days and now I don't even like it much anymore- can I have nothing?😭idk might start writing more smut now??

You were a fawn in headlights when he first saw you in that clearing. Your back had been to him and at first, he had swore and scoffed at you because who hangs around in the woods disturbing his peace? Everyone in this town knew he lurked behind the tree line, drinking himself stupid and doing whatever fucked up activities they rumored him to. Yoongi never minded being the talk of the town. He’d been an outcast since his teenage years. Since he stopped going to church with his family like every other prim family populating the place. They took some fun teenage rebellion and ran with it- he liked to think himself not as messed up as people whispered he was. He’d always thought himself not to be until he met you.

He found you picking berries and flowers, anything that looked pretty out in the forest. You were kneeling trying to choose the perfect dandelion to add to your basket when he stormed over; pissed that someone was in his usual drink until he couldn’t move anymore spot. He liked it because it was a short walk from where he liked to stare at the Sunday churchgoers leaving and freak them out. He could recall seeing you before, always glued to your mother's side wherever you went.

But he stayed away and kept to himself like always. He couldn’t say he had many, if any, friends around here. He’d been on his own since graduating and his family moved away shortly after. He hadn’t been close to them at the time so being left alone was welcomed at first. As for everyone else; if someone didn’t fit in around here they were an outcast without much care and it seemed that no one cared for him.

“What are you doing?” He barked, scowling as he approached you. Bottles clinked in the bag he was loosely holding and his cigarette was at the end of its life. You stood up, stumbling back a bit in shock. Yoongi wasn’t a kind person, so you’d heard, and his appearance didn’t do anything to help. He was scowling, his hair was frazzled from rolling out of bed an hour or so ago. Dressed in darker colors, a sweater and thick coat layered in him. You wanted to laugh over how tired and grumpy he looked, but the nervous swirl in your stomach told you not to.

“I’m just picking flowers” You straightened up, knuckles white as you gripped the basket and your free hand smoothing down your skirt. 

“Well this is my spot” he rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to hear your stupid humming or see that ridiculous frilly dress you were in. Something about it pissed him off, he couldn’t place it exactly, but whatever it was would put a damper on his getting shitfaced in the woods plan for today. Besides, you had just come from Sunday service, he didn’t need any annoying pestering about drinking or sinning, or whatever he was sure you would pester him about.

Your eyes landed in his bag, before flicking up to him a bit wide. “Are you drinking out here?”

“So what if I am?”

He watches you look around, pressing your lips together for a moment. “Could I try?” His brows raised in surprise. interesting outcome of all of this he supposed? “It’s just, I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know your mom, she’s crazy, you know? Where is she?”

“Still at service, she helps plan the food drive” You smiled a bit proud, “It’s next week.”

Yoongi hummed. She was a nutjob, he’d lost track of how many times she’d harassed him in the past month alone. “So while she’s planning to feed the needy you want to drink?” You nodded and he looked around in disbelief. Was this a joke? Was someone going to jump out and condemn him for even entertaining this? 

“Here” he fished out a bottle and held it out to you. He watched you smile, a curious twinkle in your eyes as you carefully set your flowers down and took it. He waited for you to try, there wasn’t anything better to do anyway.

Your sudden shyness poked him the wrong way. He watched you bring it to your lips for a moment before lowering it with a new nervous expression. Second guessing your rebellion? “Come on” he urged, moving to grab your arm and pull you over to him. You stumbled, kicking over your flowers and stepping on them as he dragged you over.

“Hey-” you cringed, the bottle clinking against your teeth as Yoongi held you firm in place and forced the drink into your mouth. “I don’t like it” You managed to get out between the burn of liquor and sputtering as you tried to breathe. You broke away, yoongi dumping the rest of the bottle onto you; dripping it down your hair and face, and soaking your pink cardigan. “Why would you do that?” Your voice wobbled, and your eyes were wet as you looked at him.

“You said you wanted to try, stop being a baby about it.” He rolled his eyes. He watched the heat of embarrassment color your cheeks, big wet streaks stained your face and your hair clumped wet against your skin. “Get out of here now and don’t come back.” 

He watches you grab your things and scurry away, and in the distance, he can hear your mother scolding you from the parking lot. 

“Why does everyone hate Yoongi?”

The already tense air between you and your mother grew thicker on the ride home. She was angry over the smashed flowers you brought her for her centerpieces and even angrier over your now damp and smelly clothing. The fact that you had come running back to the car in tears, crying like a child over Yoongi.  

“Isn’t what he did to you answer enough sweetheart?” She sighed, “He’s never been right, even when he was your age.” She cringed, “Ever since his parents left he’s gotten worse. He’s a creep honey, stay away from him.”

“His parents left him?” You perked up slightly, basically ignoring everything else she said. “Why would they do that? That’s so sad.”

“If he was my child I’d leave him too” She scoffed, “don’t feel sorry for him, he’s everything I’ve ever warned you about. You don’t want to get tied up in all that mess right?” She asked. You didn’t answer.

The second time you ran into Yoongi was in the same stretch of woods. You had nervously ventured out there a few weeks after the last time, unsure if you wanted to run into him or not. Your mother was right about him being scary. You’d never interacted with anyone so harsh before, everyone your mother kept in your circle was kind and caring, just as you were. All women, no men really got close thanks to her. Other than being intrigued about being around him and all the things he did that everyone had drilled into your head were wrong; you felt a bit bad for the older man. You couldn’t imagine being all alone like he was or listening to all the awful things people said about him. He couldn’t be as evil as people wanted you to think, right?

Maybe he just needed a friend?

When he saw you again he smiled in welcoming. After spending a few weeks mulling over what happened and being publicly shouted at for ‘harassing her poor child’, Yoongi had decided he wanted to get closer to you. What better way to stick it to your mom than to mess around with you some more? You were naive enough not to catch on, so what was the harm?

You just talked for a few hours with him. He listened more than opened up. He listened to you talk about what you liked to do, where to find all the best flowers around here, about how you were nervous about the little recital the church was having next month for the Holidays, and how they wanted you to sing in it.

He watched you fiddle with the robbins decorating your hair. Watched you kick your legs back and forth off the rocks you were perched on beside him. Watched how your skirt scrunched and rode up just slightly every time you moved. 

He went home that night feeling a bit odd over the experience. You seemed genuinely glad to have someone new to talk to. He wasn’t sure how he felt, because you looked so cute sitting next to him chatting his ear off. 

He was fucked to put it lightly. You were everything he hated about the people in this town. Stupid and blindly following the herd…but with more of an innocence. All Yoongi knew was that he was down bad and frankly, a little pissed about it. How many whores had he had in the past and how many could he go out and find at this moment? Too many, maybe they were getting boring to him because right now all he could think about was you. He wanted to poke fun at and just piss everyone off at first, but now…now he just wanted corrupt you. Odd, he’d never felt the want to do it before to anyone, but something about you was sticking to him. How could he not with how cute and innocent you acted around him? Your fault really...hadn't your mother already warned you about men like him? He wanted to take you until the innocent air surrounding you was gone until all you could think about is him and how good he fucked your little virgin cunt. How cute you’d be under him. Covering your breasts and trying to hide away from his hungry eyes. Your cute little moans, moans you’d likely never made before. The feeling of you stretching around him for the first time. A little too much to handle, but you’re eager to please him. How wet you’d be, how it’d be such a challenge to bottom out, and how you’d squirm and try to resist the urge to be run over the edge as his hips pressed into yours. Your thighs twitch and try to close, too overwhelmed by the new sensations happening in your body. He’d leave you ruined; never to be the same again.

Yoongi blinked himself out of thought, he was sitting outside of his house having zoned out thinking about it all. 

Well, change of plans he supposed?

Two weeks later snow began to fall and hanging out with you had become routine. Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. Other than an insatiable want to get you in his bed, he couldn’t say he hated every moment spent hanging around you. It was refreshing not to be by himself all day, he hadn’t had a real friend since early high school, and every day since had pretty much been spent alone. Stuck with a family that refused to speak to him until he admitted his sin and went back to church to grovel for forgiveness; he’d never do that even now. To his surprise you hardly talked about your family or religion; he had part expected you to try and drill it all into him. But you were pretty quiet and liked to laugh at all the ‘silly’ things he did as you liked to put it. You thought the way he slurred words when he was drunk was cute, but wouldn’t touch a drink from him after what happened, not unless he sweet-talked you enough. Sometimes it felt like he could sweet talk you into doing anything he wanted. Sometimes you’d let him put a shot glass to your lips and pour it down, wincing at the burn and getting watery-eyed. Yoongi wasn’t interested in bringing you anything gentle, he liked the hard stuff that could send him over the edge with a few drinks.

“Yoongi?” You asked one night. He was sitting beside you on the park bench, wrapped up in a plethora of jackets and hoodies trying to fight against the bitter air. Obviously, he couldn’t go to your place, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you hanging around his yet. Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself seeing you sitting in his bed just talking with that sweet tone of yours. Your eyes looking up at him, wide and fully focused on what he was doing or saying. You’d be wearing one of those silly frilled dresses you liked; he was sure of it. He’d thought about it so many times. How you’d let him get close and run a hand over your thigh, then over your stomach, to your chest. You’d let him kiss you, he knew you would. You liked doing what he said. You were so curious to partake in all the things he liked to do; all the things you weren’t supposed to do. One night he passed you a blunt without thinking much of it, you took it but nearly choked trying to smoke it for the first time. So you settled on letting him blow smoke in your face because he wanted to and you kept lying that you liked the smell of it.

“Yoongi?” You repeated, pulling him out of his daydream. He hummed, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.” He’d lie if he didn’t want to answer, he lied to you a lot and you never seemed to pick up on it.

“Have you been in love before?”

“No.” He looked over at you again. You were playing with your hands in your lap, your nose was red from the cold and your hair was covered in snowflakes. He was still damp from earlier when you made him do a snow angel alongside you. “Why?”

“I don’t know “your face flushed, “I just wish I knew what it felt like. I’ve never been able to have a boyfriend” you explained, “Mom said I have to wait longer, I think she wants to find someone for me.”

“Well, that’s what good girls are supposed to do, right?” He asked, rolling his head back to look at the street light above and watching the snow flurries cluster around it. 

You were quiet for a moment, “I guess. I don’t know I’ve just been thinking alot lately, questioning some things.”

Yoongi nodded, he could remember when he started to as well. Hearing how everything in your circle talked about Yoongi didn’t sit right. Everyone should love everyone and get along, that is what you had thought everyone preached around you your whole life. Now they spoke about him like trash, ever since he poured the liquor on you. You hardly even cared much after the fact. It had been thrilling in your otherwise mundane life. Everyone thought you were staying clear of him, but you liked hanging out with him. Every evening when your mother left for work you ran to him. And every Sunday morning people still talked about what happened. How Yoongi shouldn’t be allowed to stay around here, how he was nasty and unholy, and how he'd do horrible things to you if you got close again. 

“You want a boyfriend?”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I did.”

Yoongi wet his lips and tugged your jacket until you looked at him. You were pouting, eyes cast down as you thought about it. “Well,” he started waiting for you to look up at him with your little doe eyes met his. “I could be your boyfriend” it rolled off his tongue, music to your ears. “No one will know, we’ll do all the things girlfriends and boyfriends do.” He waited for your reply, “unless you don’t like me?” He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke in such a tone: a soft and nearly whiny one. 

“No, I do!” You blurted out. “I want you to be my boyfriend, please Yoongi?”

He could listen to you say please all night.

“You’re not scared about breaking your mom's rules?” He egged in, “Not very good of you to lie.”

You scooted closer to him, grabbing his hand and pouting. “I-I don’t care about lying to her. Really! I’ve always wanted a boyfriend and I really like you, so why not?”

“Okay” he grinned, “I’ll be your boyfriend baby.” You grinned, genuinely excited. “We should make it official though, give me a kiss?”

You picked at the edges of your sleeves, “Y-yeah…but I’ve never…done that.”

Good, he thought. He wanted to be your first anything and everything. To teach you how to be a good girlfriend for him. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed your face, encouraging you to get even closer. Your legs pressed against his and he held your waist tight. He could see the shine of your strawberry lip gloss and the pink ribbon in your hair tickled his hand as he held your cheek. You were enthralled, gazing into his eyes like hearts were exploding behind you. He kissed you, trying to start slow and keep the cute boyfriend appearance up, but he was ready to get heated and messy with you. He did- kissed you harder, nibbled your lip, and pressed his tongue into your mouth. You were so meek under him, trying your best to keep up.

Your lipgloss was smeared- most of it left on Yoongi. You made it just-in-time before your mother got home. You scurried upstairs to change and pretend you’ve been in bed all night. You still felt breathless over the kisses. How he held you and how he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t know how it was supposed to go, but you were sure he did it well. He had to. You hurried yourself under the covers. 

You had a boyfriend!

You kissed him!!

You smiled thinking about his hands holding you- how big they felt against your waist and his sting against your cheek. His lips were chapped and a bit cold against yours. He said he liked your lipgloss- the one you begged your mom to let you get just so you could wear it for him. 

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” You weren’t sure how the topic had been brought up, but Yoongi had just become far more interested in your video call after you let your secret slip out. You’d been lying around in bed talking to him for the past few hours. He was at home while you were stuck in bed for the night. Your mom was sick and hadn’t gone to work in a few days. You’d been missing Yoongi so he promised to call you.

“No…we’re not supposed to…my mom always tells me I shouldn’t it’s not pure and good.” You explained. Yoongi rolled his eyes, what a fanatic. 

“I used to think that, my family taught me the same things.” He started, “But I don’t agree. It’s normal, we’re all a little dirty sometimes, right bunny?”

You flushed, you liked it when he called you that. 

“I miss you, I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. I wanna teach you more though, do you want to learn more next time?”

You nodded, slowly as you thought about his words. “You like when I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Of course I do!”

Yoongi hummed, looking over the nightgown you were wearing. He liked kissing you well enough but he was starting to crave more. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, fantasizing about you while getting off was getting boring. He looked over your crossed legs, a bit upset it was long enough to cover your thighs- he liked them. It was, however, just snug enough to give him a subtle outline of your breasts, your nipples a bit hard grazing the fabric if you moved the right way. “Why’d you stop talking?” You pouted.

“You like my voice?” 

You nodded, “I really like it.”

“Wanna hear me call you pretty some more? How vain of you bunny. That’s a sin” he snickered, “does my voice turn you on?”

“I think so” You grew quieter, taking one headphone out and setting it aside to listen for your mother. 

“Is she still sleeping?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna do something for me, baby?” You nodded eagerly. “Touch yourself for me.” His tone was almost demanding, and needy as he shifted in his seat.

“But I’ve never…I’m not sure.”

“Come on,  try it for me?” Yoongi asked and very slowly you got off of your bed, leaving your phone propped against some pillows as instructed. Yoongi smirked, watching you look around your bedroom and to the door, double-checking the lock and listening for your mother. He was already feeling warm, mouth a bit dry as he looked you up and down. He couldn't help but to slip down his pants and tug at his cock in anticipation. The fact that you were so nervous, anxious that you’d get caught and reprimanded…that cute little nightgown you were wearing. “Just lift your nightgown” he wet his lips, watching you pick at the thin fabric and shyly lift it for him. “That’s it just a little, there you go” he encouraged, eyes glued to your panties. “Not so bad, right?” He smiled, and you let out a nervous, breathy giggle. “Turn around now” he watches you do as told, he hummed “bend over.” He watches you check your door again, a bit hesitant. “Don’t disappoint me now…good girl. Just…” Yoongi ogled over your ass, how the soft white fabric of your panties stretched over it, and how your legs pressed together now and again. “Just touch yourself for me” he finished. You did it for him, snaking a hand between your legs and clumsily playing with yourself. 

“Feels good?” He laughed at the little moans you let out now and again. “Don’t get shy, you’re so cute. Just show off for me baby.”

“You said you wanted to see it” Yoongi bit back a laugh. 

“I know, but…not here.” Your nose scrunched as you took another weary look around the alleyway. “Someone will see.”

“That’s what makes it fun” He grinned. He was feeling himself a little too much after a few drinks in his favorite bar. They wouldn’t ID him, and he knew they wouldn’t ID you. It was across town, too much of a trek for anyone who knew who you were to see. He’d gone through a few beers and some shots with you following him. You didn’t like the beer and refused a second shot, so he rolled his eyes and got you something smoother, fruitier. You were more content sipping on it, kicking your legs off the stool, and begging him to come to see you in the Holiday service on Sunday.

“You want me to come Sunday or not?”

“That’s not fair” you whined. Yoongi shrugged, leaning against the brick wall with his hips jutted out slightly. “Get on your knees for me bunny.” He watched you sink down, complaining when the slosh of rain and snow stained your stockings. “I’ll by you new ones” He assured, watching your brow knit ever so slightly as you fiddled with his belt; loosening it and going for his jeans button. He could feel his throat getting dry, ever since that little show he talked you through a few days ago he had been plagued with thoughts of you nonstop. You pulled his jeans down a bit, looking up at him for reassurance before shyly going for the boxers. He was already hard, it didn't take much from you nowadays. His fingers twitched, he wanted ot grab your hair and go to town, but he tried to take in your wide eyes, cautious little touches, and overall curiosity of it all.

“I don’t know if I should be doing this” Your voice was small, torn as you looked up at him again with a frown. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it's normal. Lots of girls do it, don’t you want to make me feel good? I made you feel good the other night, it’s only fair.”

"I know you better than you think baby. I know those dirty little sides of you no one else does. You keep saying this is wrong and you shouldn't be doing it…but you’ve been saying for days how you want to please me. Now it’s time. Want me to help you?” He murmured. You nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your stomach as you looked around one last time. He snaked a hand through your hair and guided you closer. His tip grazed your lips, pouty and slick from your lipgloss. Egairly you opened your mouth for him, trying to breathe through the new feeling and anxiety of having him in your mouth for the first time. 

Yoongi on the other hand felt like he could melt then and there. The feeling of your hot mouth against him sent tingles down his spine. “Just suck on it a little, grab the rest with your hand, and stroke it for me, baby.” your hand felt so small and cold against him, it made him shiver. He tugged your head a bit, he couldn’t help it. Your inexperience was too much for him. He loved the clumsiness, the little noise you made as you choked on him, how drool dripped down your chin and stained your blouse. “I know you can take it bunny, tell me if you can’t- fuck” he hissed, “you’re so good for me.”

He came in your mouth- he hadn't planned to but hadn’t been able to help it the moment you peered back up to him. Your face flushed, your eyes wide and teary, still looking at him in adoration. You pulled back, saying something about not liking the taste and wincing when more landed on your face. Yoongi was too immersed in trying to calm down to make some witty remark, he just took a moment to steady his breathing and look down at you. “Sorry,” he was quick to get his pants back up and get down to your level to help clean up. He sighed, watching you pick at your ruined stockings and skirt, “We’ll go to the mall tomorrow, and I’ll try to come to see you Sunday.”

He tried to seem indifferent to the way your face lit up, lunging to hug him. He smiled and took you home.

After taking you to the mall and replacing your clothes, Yoongi felt needier than usual for you. He was ready to take up, ready to steal that innocence away. 

“Stop pretending you don’t want to” Yoongi laughed. “Do you like it?” Yoongi grinned. You squirmed in his lap. He could tell you were trying not to like it, your brow scrunched slightly. When he grabbed your face and made you look at him he could see the concern clouded with lust in your eyes. “I know you like it, stop lying to yourself” He had taken you home for the first time, wasting little time before pulling you to the bedroom for a makeout. 

“I do” you whimper, “but…I’m not supposed to do stuff like this” You frowned, “Not until I get married and-”

“We’re not having sex though, we’re just playing a little, right?” He asked, grabbing your hips tighter, pressing his bulge against you. Your skirt rode up more, your knees pressed into the sofa as he guided you to grind against him. You were starting to get a little bold when you were with him, it was hard not to when he was constantly grabbing at you and saying all the right things to get you worked up. He was ready to take this to the next level- ready to fuck you.

“Come on, fuck yourself against me, baby, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you.” He slipped back into his mindset fast. Your hips moved with his, he could feel the wet spot staining his jeans as you moaned and squeaked in surprise every time he pulled you hard against him. “Want me to fuck you? Seems like it, want me to ruin your insides?” He was into it, into how good your clothed cunt felt against his jeans and hard-on, how red your face was getting and the little beads of nervous sweat forming on your forehead. How your fingers clasped his shirt and nails pinched his skin, how into you seemed to be getting.

“I shouldn’t, but it feels so good” You cried, while Yoongi nearly came at your breathly little whines. 

“it's okay to be dirty like this, it makes you feel good, right? makes you want to cum like a good girl for me?” Yoongi went on, “Or we can stop, you can just pretend we didn’t do anything and go home, is that what you want?” “No�� you cried, “It feels good. I wanna cum.” You shyly spoke, quickening your pace as he rutted against you.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” He had been half serious when he said it, still content with sucking on and leaving hickeys on your shoulder. When you say yes? He felt like his brain short-circuited, he had you on your back in an instant; staring down at you like a hungry animal. Your shirt was unbuttoned, chest flushed and marked up from the groping. You were looking at him through lidded eyes, your legs still pressed together in anticipation as he moved in. 

“Fuck this is so wrong, isn’t it bunny?” Yoongi let out a shaky exhale, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, god you feel so good.” You were flushed under him, biting back moans and trying to take the pain of the first stretch like a good girl, like you knew he wanted you to. “I’m trying to go slow baby, but fuck…You’ll forgive me if I can’t, right?” He leaned closer to you, peppering kisses over your neck and sucking dark marks on your skin. “Please forgive me, baby, I’m gonna ruin you.” He murmured. He knew you’d never hate him, he knew you’d forgive him for anything he did to you.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[o-pandora-o]

Modern AU with the WHB Kings

In a world wherein the Kings weren't devils, and that you weren't the great granddaughter/grandson of Solomon, how would they meet you?

Warnings: harassing man on Beelzebub's, unhinged woman and knife on Leviathan's part, cursing/profanity. Gender-neutral pronouns were used. Reader is of legal age and working. Yes, I'm sorry if I have favoritism on Beel's.

a/n: I don't usually post WHB in a scheduled manner so I'm really sorry to those who wait for me. Requests are open tho! But I would like to warn that I can't post early T.T

Satan

🩸He was a gym owner and coach near your area. He always wears a white jumpsuit that compliments his eyes.

🩸You noticed that you were gaining a bit of weight and wanted to try out the gym near your area.

🩸When you entered and paid the fee, the gym was empty the time you came. The gym was well maintained, there were also lockers and shower area.

🩸You were looking around the gym equipment, and you decided to try one but... You didn't know how to, but you tried to use it still. "You're not supposed to use it that way, you're supposed to hold the cord then pull" A long haired guy (did i mention fluffy hair) with a white tracksuit said. "I- uh... Sorry thanks" you sheepishly said "I'd rather appreciate it if you ask for help rather than destroying my equipment" he chuckled. "By the way, the name is Satan, and you are?" Satan extended a hand for a handshake. "Y/n" you shaked hands with Satan. "Sorry about that... I'm new to these things... Is it alright if you teach me with these equipment?" You shyly asked. "No" he said with a grin. "W-wha?! But you sai-" "Hah, I'm kidding, alright where do you wanna start? I'm also a coach btw. I train and have sessions every other day. Wanna sign up?" "Not yet, I just wanna familiarize myself first with the equipment and the atmosphere." "Alright, just don't go breaking my shit alright" "I-i said I'm sorry!" you playfully smacked him. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

🩸You realized how good Satan was in becoming the owner and coach. He had several rules over the gym.

🩸He often got pissed whenever people were flirting in the gym epecially to you. You sometimes hear his teeth gnash.

🩸People love him, even children and elderly! Who knew his gym would be filled with various people.

Mammon

🪙You were a fresh graduate applying to one of the biggest companies specializing in technology; Tartaros.

🪙You were in the Lobby of Tartaros, and asked the receptionist where the Human Resource Department was for your interview.

🪙When the receptionist told you the directions, you hurried towards the elevator and somehow bumped into something...no... Someone.

🪙You bumped into a tall buff guy with black hair and gold eyes. His eyes were really mesmerizing enough for you to stare instead of apologizing.

🪙When you realized you were staring, you bowed your head and apologized. "It's alright, I apologize also" he said and you somehow hear the warmth through his deep voice.

🪙You noticed that he dropped his wallet, and you wanted to return it so you followed him.

🪙He went to the elevator, you went to another elevator. He walked towards one of the hallways, you also walked. You were trying to get his attention by saying "Sir!" but your voice wasn't loud enough for him to hear you.

🪙He stopped in front of an office and went in. You saw him go in another room inside the office room. You were trying to catch his attention and ran to him but one of his attendants with a stingy face stopped you. "What business do you have with Mr. Mammon?" The guy with the stingy face said. "Wha- who? I was just going to return his wallet since it fell!" You explained "Yeah that's right, I heard that excuse many times. Off you go, you just want a promotion do you?" He shooed you off but his co-worker stopped him. "Sorry to break it to you, Bimet, but I don't think they're an employee" the guy with a gold hair with eye patch said. "Sorry about that, you said you wanted to return Mr. Mammon's wallet?" The guy faced you and asked you. "I don't know his name but... The guy with black hair and a bit buff and yeah i think he went there!" you pointed at the room Mammon went. The guy with gold hair chuckled, "I'll accompany you to Mr. Mammon's office." The guy knocked on the office and said "Mr. Mammon, someone is here to talk to you", you looked at him and he whispered "it's better if you return it to him personally, he's a nice guy don't worry". The other person replied "Ah Valefor, please do let them in".

🪙The guy, Valefor, opened the door for you and you went inside. It was only you and Mammon. "Oh you..." "Um... You dropped your wallet when I bumped into you. I was trying to gain your attention but you didn't hear me many times. I'm just going to return it." You said "Oh, thanks. You can have what's inside." Mammon said. "What?" You exclaimed "You can have what's inside" "No, I cannot. I don't want to" "But you were nice enough to return it." "Yes, but I can't accept it." "Really? You don't want it?" "I'd rather earn the money by hard work. Thank you for being nice though. But I cannot accept this" you returned the wallet and bowed to him. "May I have your name, at least and the department?" "Y/n, oh and I don't work here. Oh drat! I forgot my interview!! This was nice and all but I have to go, thank you Mr.?" "Mammon, call me Mammon." "Thank you Mr. Mammon!" You returned the wallet.

🪙When Mammon checked the contents of the wallet, he did see that there were no finger prints inside and the money and cards were intact. He was really sure to reward you. He made a call to the HR department, telling them to hire you. "Hi! Sorry I'm late for the interv-" "Are you y/n?" "Y-yes I am" "You're hired." "What. Wait what about the interview?" "You should thank Mr. Mammon" "Uhm. I hate to ask but... Who is exactly Mr. Mammon?" "Oh he's the CEO of Tartaros" "HUH?"

🪙You thanked Mammon again and now you're working for him. His company was really nice and non-toxic (well except for the Money grabbing attendant of Mr. Mammon).

🪙You were seeing him every now and then and you'd wish to experience more dealings with him in the future.

Beelzebub

🕶️You were referred as a bartender in a club by your friend Naberius. You were working there for about a month now and met wonderful co-workers and even customers.

🕶️You met the Chief and Acting Owner Bael who taught you with the drinks, rules, and policies. Amon, one of the chill security. Surprisingly, your friend Naberius was the chief security and receptionist of the VIP area. Lastly, Stolas, one of the security who was easily mad but is cute.

🕶️In the Avisos Club, there were two areas. First is the common area, where folks drink alcohol, mingle with people, dance a little and even flirt. Then there was also a VIP area that also works as a 5 star S&M hotel. Getting in the VIP area was really hard, but VIPs will have their own room and they can do anything in that room (using their money ofc). Most guests use it as an intimate or S&M area (yes toys are also for sale there). Some also use it as a high stake gambling area.

🕶️You mostly work at the common area to avoid weird requests, but you also share a fair share of chaotic situations in the common area.

🕶️Oh boy, today is not going to be your day. One guy kept flirting with you while making his bloody mary, how you wished to make his head a bloody mary. "*Whistles* Oh baby you look hot today, why don't I take you out today and drink some of yours; I take both males and females if that's your concern" "Nope sorry. Just drink this bloody mary instead." You were trying to keep it together. "Awww but I wanna have fun with you." he insisted "Rule Number 6 in Avisos Club, when a person says no, it means No." You replied while cleaning your work area. "Rules are made to be broken~ Come on, just a drink with me please~" He somehow grabbed your shoulder, and you were on the other side of the bar. "Sir, I respectfully ask you to remove your hand and leave me alone, or I will call security" "Yeah as if security will stop me, come on just one drink with me" "Three" "Two" "That won't work on me, you cant threaten me bab-" He noticed someone grabbed his shoulder "Hmm if I remember correctly, customers aren't allowed to harass, let alone to a bartender, no?" A guy with light blonde hair with yellow and green eyes said, he looked pretty but his smile looked so deadly. "Fuck off, can't you see I'm flirting with this guy/girl. And you're not my ty-" the guy grabbed him by the collar and removed him from you and made him sit on his seat. "What the, what's the big dea-"

🕶️The timing made you press the red button under the bar, signaling the security. Security will come in a few minutes.

🕶️The guy put a hand over the mouth of the person harassing you and looked at you instead "Oh! You're quite new here aren't you? My my, now I understand why this jackass was forcing you, you look handsome/beautiful!" the guy with the light blonde hair said. "Thank you I guess? Oh and you're correct, I just started this job a month ago" "Oho, Bael did a good job hiring you, I heard you also make good drinks and food, by the way the name is Beelzebub" "I'm y/n, thank you for helping me btw, and ah.. well I like making drinks and cooking so uh.. hehe I really like this job so I make sure I do my best!" you sheepishly said "Aww, I can see that, keep it up!" he said.

🕶️Security came and somehow the guy harassing you had a handkerchief on his mouth and his hands were tied. Huh did beel do that?

🕶️When you talked to the security about the guy, you told them what he did and beelzebub did. "Oh yeah also this guy, Beelzebub, he helped me wi-" Naberius cut you off "DID YOU SAY BEELZEBUB?" "huh? Yeah he's right here...oh he's gone..." you noticed there was a note under the glass he drank. "You make drinks that are unlike any other! Oh and that grilled cheese was delightful! I'll make sure Bael knows about this... But not today though! Try to keep this a secret okay? :3" You mentally facepalmed why saying sorry in your mind. "Uhm.. Naberius... Not to be dumb but... Who is Beelzebub?" "HE'S THE OWNER OF AVISOS BAR! HE WAS HERE?!" You noticed how this was making a scene, not to mention Amon and stolas as well as Bael was coming towards you "I... Yeah? Very light blonde short hair on the front, with green and yellow eyes, and pretty? Yeah? Oh with long earrings and necklace too?? Oh he's the owner..." You were shocked "He always wanders off and let's me do all the job here... He'll pay for this!!!" Bael said "He said you did a good job hiring me and... He liked the drinks and food" "Oh. Looks like you're going to be promoted soon. Keep it up then. As for him... That demonic person... When I get my hands on him he'll pay tenfold!!!" Everyone was devastated that they missed Beelzebub.

🕶️You kept seeing Beelzebub in the club every now and then. Both of you shared stories and you can see that he's really fond of you.

🕶️He always wants you to keep it a secret whenever he's there tho.

Leviathan

⚰️You were an office worker with an 8 to 5 job. Your co-workers invited you to a club after the anniversary of your company. Somehow the name of the bar was quite familiar to you, but you couldn't remember the significance.

⚰️The club wasn't really your thing, some of your office mates mingled, some drank and you were sitting with your phone in your hands. You somehow had an uncomfortable, eerie feeling that someone was watching you.

⚰️You tried to brush off that feeling and went to the bar. You sat beside a guy with light colored hair, you noticed that he was looking pretty.

⚰️You didn't notice that you were staring at him for too long and he looked back at you. "Didn't you mother taught you that it's rude to stare?" He said while glaring at you. You apologized and sheepishly looked away.

⚰️You ordered your drink and somehow you still feel that someone was staring. Until one lady approached you and started flirting with you. "Hey sweetie? You alone? I've been looking at you for quite some time now. How about I accompany you, hmm?" She was being a bit touchy, she put her hand in yours and you retracted. "Ah no, I've got some friends there, I don't need accompanying thank you" you politely declined as she was making you uncomfortable. "Now now sweetie, I know you need company, don't resist now" "Um. Sorry I'll politely refuse." "I said you need company. Don't refuse me sweetie" you were looking at her weirdly. "No. Sorry..." "I said, YOU DO NEED COMPANY" that's when the unhinged woman threatened you with a knife. "Heard of the phrase 'no means no'?" the pretty light haired guy beside you spoke. "Hah who cares about what other people think, what is important is what I think, and that's why shut up!" she was becoming deranged. "Who told you that you can talk to me, huh? 'Fuck off'? How about you fuck off." it was all too fast, the light haired guy pinned the deranged woman in the bar table. He showed his badge which says 'F.B.I.' "The name's Leviathan, undercover agent of the FBI. Thank you for being useful and luring this deranged woman into showing her true self. She has already killed 60 innocent lives. She often goes to this club but she always use her money to make the owners shut up" he said as he handcuffed the woman. "If you ever become stupid enough and get lured and need help, call this in the future." He gave you his business card and you accepted.

⚰️Thank Heavens you did, because apparently you were a magnet for trouble. You often call his number every now and then. "Who knew a person like you would be wanted by many criminals that I kept track of." "What does that suppose to mean?!" "Nothing. I'll treat you today for making my life easier than it is." "I- well fine! I won't hold back with the food!"

⚰️You someone noticed how Leviathan was pretty but really serious. He also says what he thinks in his head which made you so irritated.

⚰️Needless to say your interactions become more frequent as he was a FBI agent and you're a magnet for trouble.

[olderthannetfic]

Can I poke the bear for a moment and get angry? Because I'm seeing "posting as activism" more and more in fandom spaces, and tonight I saw a post that made me lose it.

There is a post about (current events) going around that says, "full offense, but in this time, your own comfort doesn't fucking matter, you should be uncomfortable about things that are happening, and I hope you can fucking live with yourselves if you are quiet. It takes five seconds to retweet or reblog, fuck your aesthetic, fuck your anything aesthetic."

And my god. How dare they.

Yes, there is severely fucked up shit happening. Yes, people should be aware that people are being killed. Yes, there are people who are just shrugging about it and pissing off. But how does reblogging a post certify someone as Good or Bad? How does this person know that someone hasn't already helped out meaningfully in some way, or is still helping out, but on other websites? How does this person know that someone isn't barely holding on by the skin of their teeth, and they would have a mental breakdown if they got closer to any more stressful things?

I know a multitude of people, including myself, who have recently either needed to call lines, check into facilities, move back in with their parents, or go on medication because of how insane things have become in their own lives. How does this person not understand that blogging; being on tumblr; engaging in fandom, having a small space that someone can control in its entirety, is a reprieve for people who are already at their wit's end outside of that space? And that's okay.

(We are not doing the relative privation shit in this house. I refuse to entertain that.)

Ironically, by insisting that people participate in sharing posts when they're already stressed and exhausted, that's a surefire way to make their problems worse, and potentially prevent them from acting helpfully in the future because suddenly, their exhaustion turns into full-blown burnout. That's how it works. Professionals tell you to dial things back if you are too overwhelmed. There is a reason for that. There is a limit to how much people can mentally process and handle. Compassion fatigue exists. For a lot of us, we are already at our limit. We need space to relax, and not have arbitrary obligations thrown on us. That is not our fault, it is not a character flaw, it does not mean we are bad people. And just because horrific things are happening elsewhere, it does not mean we can, or should, stop taking care of ourselves first. Yes, it feels shitty to think, "you know what, I can't reblog this". You bet your ass that I and my friends feel guilty about not being able to engage as much as we think we should, but that is how it goes. I can put my head underwater for a bit. But I cannot keep my head underwater forever. I will drown.

Not to mention the obvious part: guilt-tripping people to the extent of implying they are somehow contributing to genocide, just because they won't reblog a post, and implying they should not be able to live with themselves if they do that, is beyond revolting.

I am angry, and I am not sorry.

--

So many of those kinds of posts—and they turn up during every set of horrific real world events—sound like people who are in a country far away from the events, diaspora at most but probably just randos, venting their impotent rage because it's the only way they can feel productive in a situation where nothing they can do is productive.

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: depiction of drug use (❄️)

Chapter one

"Butcher's dead."

"Stop it," I snapped, turning to face the cracked TV in the basement of the pawn shop, our new home for the time being. "He's not fucking dead."

"Yeah, then where is he?" MM pressed. "I've known that motherfucker for a long ass time, and he would never abandon his team unless it's because he's dead."

"I'm sure he has his reasons," I said under my breath, crossing my arms and trying to focus on a re-run of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

MM shook his head, standing from the couch where I was seated. "Face it, kid. He's not coming back. One of the many people he's managed to piss off probably put a bullet through his head."

I physically bit my tongue to stop myself from blowing up at MM. He didn't deserve to be yelled at when he was just trying to be realistic. Because that's what he was at his core: realistic and logistic, and I would be lying if I said our chaotic group didn't benefit from having someone like him around. But that didn't make his realism any easier to swallow.

When I failed to answer him, MM sighed before grabbing his leather jacket and jogging up the stairs. A moment later, the door to the pawn shop opened and closed with the ring of a bell.

"What was that about?" Hughie asked, tentatively exiting his room.

"Nothing," I mumbled. "Just MM trying to convince me that Butcher's body is rotting in an alley somewhere in the tri-state area."

"Yeah. He gave me the same spiel this morning," Hughie replied, coming to perch beside me on the sofa. Kim had begun to beat Kourtney relentlessly with her designer purse, and we focused on the fight that we had watched countless times by now.

"Don't be fucking rude," we sang in time with Kim as she continued to berate her older sister physically and verbally.

"Watching this show makes me glad I didn't have any siblings," Hughie declared as he propped his feet up on the coffee table when the reality show bled annoyingly into a commercial break.

"You and me both," I replied. "Although, I don't think all siblings are like that. Kim is just special."

Hughie snorted before we fell silent for a few moments. I broke the spell by asking. "Do you think if I got a nose job, I could get on a reality show like that and make billions of dollars?"

"And what show would that be? The Real Felons of New York?"

"Exactly. And then it would be me hitting some other poor bastard with my purse. But it would probably be from Target, not Gucci, so it would hurt a lot less with it being faux leather and all."

"Mhm, everyone knows it's real leather that leaves bruises."

I turned to Hughie and cracked a smile—my first one in weeks since Butcher's disappearance. But it didn't last long as I let out a long breath, still looking at my friend. "Where do you think he is, Hugh?" I whispered.

"I don't know," he answered solemnly.

"Do you really think Butcher just abandoned us?" I prodded as I turned to face him, bringing my knees to my chest.

"I don't want to believe that, Jo. But do you remember how he left us on the side of the road? He just drove off without looking back, so is it really so crazy to assume that he'd eventually abandon all of us?"

"But it's Butcher. He was our leader. What kind of leader would forsake his team?"

"I think you need to brush up on some history, Mademoiselle."

Hughie and I swilevled our heads to see our French friend as he descended the last few steps of the pawn shop basement with several bags in tow.

"I come bearing gifts," Frenchie announced before dropping his belongings on the small armchair by the couch. "A friend of mine works at the supermarket down the street, and he let me sneak in the back and steal a few items from their delivery truck."

"Thank God. I was getting real sick of Skittles from the vending machine upstairs," Hughie professed as he riffled through the bags of produce and frozen dinners.

"Really?" I inquired with a raised brow. "Is it because you stole mine all the time?"

"Only the yellow ones!" Hughie shot back, defending himself.

"Which is the worst flavor by far. Honestly, Hugh. You have no taste."

"Yes, I do. It's just very acquired."

"Ok, Buddy. Sure it is," I snickered, gazing back at the TV as Kim appeared once again, this time yelling at a different family member.

༺༻

"C'mon, just one more line," Brandon urged, pushing the stool closer to me that was balancing a tray filled with a hefty amount of coke.

"No," I said, running a hand down the side of my face to wipe away the sheen of sweat that covered my skin. "I'm already crashing. Besides, I need to get back to base. If I'm gone for too long, the others will start to panic."

Brandon casually snorted another row before wiping his nose vigorously. "You mean the rest of your team?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, which was much to his confusion.

"Why are you guys still together? I thought your boss left town."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? We're the most wanted criminals in the country. It's not like we can return to our everyday lives as if nothing ever happened."

Brandon processed my words as he massaged his jaw, which had begun to tremble. "I guess that makes sense."

I grunted an unintelligible noise as I stood from his floor, which was covered in brown, fraying carpet. My stomach flipped, and I placed a hand over my heart as I felt it beat much quicker than usual. I could already tell that this comedown wasn't going to be fun.

"Text me when you get back, yeah? I want to make sure you're not arrested on your way home. It would be pretty shitty to get sent to prison when you're coked out of your mind."

"That's for sure," I murmured as I moved towards his door, which was decorated with old bullet holes. Brandon's latest apartment was nothing short of dilapidated, and its seedy appearance motivated guests to leave as soon as they arrived. "Will you be around this weekend?"

"Nope. I got a deal down in Pennsylvania. Thirty pounds of weed for half a million," Brandon replied as he began creating random shapes from what was left of the white power.

I stared at him for a moment before shaking my head. "Alright, well, I guess I'll see you whenever you get back."

Brandon's only reply was the sound of him snorting his snow, and I exited his apartment without another word.

I wasn't looking forward to the forty-minute walk home. It was mid-November here in New York City, and the freezing temperatures made any outdoor activity downright painful. But it was my fault for venturing out in the first place. I just couldn't bear to sit in that dingy basement with vivid thoughts of Butcher's assumed demise running through my head anymore. Each time I pictured someone blowing his brains out, it got more and more believable, and I refused to acknowledge the fact that MM might be correct and Butcher might be gone.

Tiny flakes of snow dusted the top of my head, and I drew my thin jacket tighter around my body, desperate for any source of warmth. My shoulders rose to my ears, and I bowed my head, footing it quickly in the direction of the pawn shop. All I could think about was curling up with our small space heater and watching more shitty reality television on the sofa that was definitely infested with bed bugs.

My mind grew fuzzy, and the noticeable shake of my fingers made me curse myself for not taking it easier with Brandon earlier. My eyes darted around the empty streets as paranoia took over, and I regretted not bringing my handheld with me.

If it weren't for my fragile emotional state, I wouldn't've done so many lines. But my need to bury my feelings under a blanket of drugs was too strong for me to deny, and now here I was, coming down from an intense high in the middle of Chinatown at two am.

I supposed that's what I got for falling in love with Billy Butcher.

But could you call it love? In the past three months, I had begun to doubt everything I had ever felt for the man. Sure, I'd had a massive crush on him ever since he'd found me on the street, selling drugs, and recruited me for his team. We then proceeded to harmlessly flirt for the next four months before finally sleeping together one night. Then everything with The Seven went to shit the following day, and I never saw him again. So, was it love? I guess I'd never know.

The vibration of my pocketed phone grabbed my attention, but I ignored it as I sank my teeth into my lower lip and trudged on. It was most likely one of the guys, but according to my loose calculations, I should be home in less than ten minutes. So I'd see them soon enough. Also, I needed these next ten minutes to sober up as much as possible. MM had made it quite clear that he disapproved of my "habits," as he liked to call them, and I wasn't in the mood for another lecture about how crack was going to put me in an early grave.

As I rounded the corner of the pawn shop, I stopped to pull the hood of my jacket up to cover my frizzy, tangled hair and pinch my cheeks so I wouldn't look so damn pale.

After entering the crummy establishment, I reluctantly walked down the stairs, and I heard a debate that was ensuing in the dimly lit basement.

"Raynor is not going to hand us over. She's on the same side as we are," Hughie was saying.

"Side?" argued MM. "She's the top fucking dog at the CIA. She's up the government's ass. The same government, mind you, that's responsible for naming us wanted criminals."

"That was Vought, not the government."

I trailed my eyes on my scuffed-up boots as I tried to make a run for my room unnoticed. But my cover was blown when MM spotted me.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

I raised my gaze, preparing the lie I was going to feed him, but it got stuck in my throat when I saw who he was standing beside.

Butcher. Looking perfectly healthy. Without a single bruise or a speck of blood on him. In one of his signature Hawaiian shirts, he looked like he'd just gotten back from a vacation in the tropics.

My heart slammed against my chest, but it wasn't because of the coke this time. It had everything to do with the burly man who towered over me with deep, hazel eyes that made my green ones well with anguished memories.

"That's it, love. Come all over my cock for me."

Butcher's hot breath fanned over my flesh, raising goosebumps as his lips trailed down my neck, licking and sucking as he marked me in the most depraved way.

I clenched around him as I gushed all over his thick length, screaming his name-

I jolted back to reality and clamped my mouth shut, which was hanging open as I panted, and forced my eyes to settle on MM.

"Out," I said curtly.

I glanced at Frenchie, who stood a few feet from me by Kimiko, and he turned away before discreetly wiping his nose, signaling me to do the same. Thankful for his help, I traced a finger under my nostrils, feeling the remnants of the dust that I had carelessly left behind.

I tried to play it off, but Butcher's hawk-like gaze had caught every movement, and I fixed him with an indifferent stare. So what if he found out about the earlier events of my evening? It's not like he was going to pull every statistic on the internet regarding females under the age of thirty dying of a cocaine overdose and then formulate them into a PowerPoint presentation because, thankfully, he wasn't Marvin Milk.

"Well, when you were 'out,' did you forget how to answer your phone? You know the rules about staying in contact when we're separated," MM berated me.

"Sorry," I apologized in the same tone.

With disappointment written all over his face, MM shook his head before looking back at Hughie, who was leaning against the arm of the sofa. I shuffled over to sit beside him and waited for the heated conversation to continue. All the while, I avoided Butcher and the way his eyes burned into the side of my head, no doubt judging my disheveled appearance.

"Look, all I'm saying," Hughie expressed with crossed arms. "Is that Reignor is our only shot we have left at taking down Vought. If we can just get her a sample of Compound V, then it would finally be in the right person's hands."

"Should we really trust one of Monsieur Charcuter’s scorned lovers?" Frenchie asked. "A scorned woman is a vengeful woman."

"If I may," Butcher interjected, his cockney accent shining through, "'Lover' is a rather strong word to describe what we was doin’, which was havin’ a good fuck in a few bar bathrooms."

Everyone groaned before MM got the conversation back on track.

"Fine. All those in favor of scheduling a meeting with Raynor?"

Hughie, Frenchie, Kimiko, Butcher, and I raised our hands.

"Don't bother askin’ who's opposed. You're all alone there, mate," Butcher smirked at his second in command before turning to the rest of us. "Right, first thing tomorrow, I will call Susan up and arrange a meetin’. In the meantime, you twats better get a good night's sleep cuz now that Daddy's home, you're all gonna be workin’ your arses off."

I refrained from rolling my eyes as Butcher continued, holding up his duffel bag. "Now, which one's my room?"

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abandoned masterlist

[testosteroneb0y]

NSFW alphabet - HABIT emH

-Cross posted on ao3-

CW: explicit/18+ content below the cut, A lot of kinks are implied but not directly mentioned and there is probably things I could add in here but I'm too lazy, just know it's kinky and smutty and all that jazz

Author's Note: this is the first thing I've written in a while and most of it is just me yapping. I tried to go over it and fix any mistakes but I've been too tired to properly proofread it. I also tried to keep it mostly in character but Habit is just such a questionable character it's rather hard to make it not end up being ooc. Gender neutral but made with afab body parts in mind.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I would like to think there would be a little bit but tbh it seems like a no. He'd probably make you see stars and then go straight back to murdering people or something <3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His : hands. This fella probably has hands that would be on the larger side (which is shocking) and he just loves that, he can do so much more whether it's wrapping a hand around your wrists to hold them together or something else (that I can't think of rn😔 I'm too tired) he just loves the fact that it gives him more control

Partner : thighs, hips. I don't really have a good reason for this, he just seems like the type of guy to love leaving handprints from grabbing too hard on thighs 😇 similar to the thighs part, he probably just loves gripping onto them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he cums inside, there's no denying it. He'll say things like "'gonna fill you up so good, m'kay, rabbit?" I don't even think he would be that big on breeding but my god does that man love seeing his seed dripping out of you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jerked off and came into a pair of your underwear and put it back into your drawer. He would be soossososoooo obsessed with the fact that you'd end up not realising and wearing them will they were still dirty

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Habit knows his stuff and I stand by that. Evan, not so much. From being in so many different people's bodies he has to have gotten some action. He was probably pissed off when he realised Evan's body couldn't take as much as he would like to.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Literally any as long as he can grab at your ass, or thighs, or hips. Also doggy style occasionally because he just loves absolutely pounding down into you, shoving your face into a pillow and going to town.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

(This is more my Evan hcs bcuz yk its his body n stuff !!)

Naturally doesn't have much hair down there besides a little happy trail

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

honestly, canon habit probably would not give a fuck, as long as he gets to cum then he is fine but I'm a fanboy and dont care, i like that anyway :3

on the more ooc side, I think if he was truly inlove with you he would try to be more romantic but it's hard for him considering his violent nature

He would always try his best to make sure you have a nice (well...as nice as getting your brain fucked out of you can be) time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he is shameless. He will leave a room and go to the bathroom or something and have a wank, he doesn't care if people in the other room hear him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

CHOKING. He fucking loves choking people because he likes the way they try to grasp for air. The light leaving their eyes is enough to get this man GOING.🥰 he loves pain, inflicting it mainly. I think it would be kinda obvious considering his...occupation, if you will. He is big on corruption. He just loves turning a little innocent "rabbit" into the freakiest person :3

I could go on and on about his kinks but I'm trying to contain myself.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Despite popular belief, I think he probably prefers being in his own house, but he would do it anywhere in the house.

If he is reeeally horny then he might pull you into an alley or something for a quickie

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything and everything you do will turn him on. I'm leaving it at that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Im a strong believer that tbis man likes everything no matter how weird but maaaybe like scat n stuff, I can just see him not really being the biggest fan of things like that, he probably thinks it's too gross (and will say that while being covered in like 6 different peoples blood)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving, Face fucking is one of his favourite things. Everything from how you look in the aftermath of it, to (going back to the choking thing) Your eyes rolling back as he just shoves his cock down into your throat.

Although he likes receiving, I think he would be pretty good at giving. It's almost like a wasted talent of his.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I don't even know why I have to say this but he definitely is rough ASSSSFFFFF. He will plow into you like there's no tomorrow. If he is feeling really cruel he will go super slow at first, only moving very slightly, making it almost like new form of torture.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he is even slightly pent up he most definitely will let it out. He seems like the typa guy that hates being sexually frustrated and he HAS to have some sort of release to calm him down or he is just rougher later on in the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is down to try everything and if I'm being honest he probably has already tried everything, and I genuinely mean every single thing a person could like. This isn't to say he likes everything, but he does probably enjoys mostly everything being the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 he is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He could and would go all day, all night. Unfortunately, he has other business to attend to. (Brutally murdering people 😍)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

oh brother, he has toys, TOO many toys. Mainly to use on other people but I can see him using a vibrator on himself on occasion. He also would own everything that could he used for bondage, which also happens to come in handy when he gets a bit silly and kidnaps people ! This is kind of random but I can see him loving nip clamps.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

So much, too much. I personally would not be able to stand the amount that he would tease, and I can put up with more than the average person. He is just a cruel motherfucker.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I can't imagine him being very loud. Evan whimpers, Habit himself wouldn't WANT to but that's the price that he has to pay when he uses other people's bodies.

He will talk and whisper dirty stuff into your ears most of the time but sometimes if he has had a bad day and is just really angry he will just shut up and get it over with.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves putting you in your place, even the slightest little bit of back chat and you are done for.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think he would be pretty average in size, maybe even slightly smaller considering Evan's height, but he would make up for it in other ways.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It doesn't take much to get him going so even just the simple act of bending down infront of him, whether it was purposely or not, and he will have you bent over.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Habit himself wouldn't be tired because of the whole being an entity but he would realise "oh shit this body is so tired" and he would just force himself to go to sleep.

[angelflms]

Okay, so I have been thinking so much about this (I have been talking aloud to myself for like ten minutes bc I've invested myself wayyy too deep into this), but I think I know why Miguel bothers me so much despite being my favorite character.

The writers suck.

Now, I know I don't have screenwriting credibility and I'm merely just a girl and I know that perhaps they can't cram all of this shit into the show and make room for literally everyone else, BUT I think the reason why so many people don't like Miguel as a character is because he doesn't have much of a character to work with. So whenever he does something that shows character (the Mexico storyline, the Stanford storyline), no one feels bad for him. I think that maybe if he had definitive arcs for each season, while weaving it better into Robby's arcs (since they're foils and tethered to each other), he would actually be likeable. So I wanted to show you what I feel like I would do to write Miguel's post school fight arc. Feel free to tell me your opinions. (buckle up, this is a long one)

S3a

similar to what we see

but we actually get to be more into Miguel's mental response to the aftermath

I dont' think they went enough into his feelings with everything and that everything went a bit too fast (for Miguel) during the season.

perhaps they could've gone deeper into his PTSD, similar to what they did with Sam.

but instead it preventing him from going to school, it prevented him from doing karate all together.

it was clear early on that karate and Johnny slowly became all that Miguel cared about.

Johnny was sending mixed signals and Kresse's entry into CK was conflicting as their ideals were different.

Johnny made it clear that CK's mottos are a way of life, so Miguel was moving the exact way one would in karate irl.

Karate was his life. And it nearly ended it as well.

I don't believe Miguel would immediately still want to be so gung-ho about joining karate again after nearly dying from it.

Johnny would lose Miguel's trust and would fight for it back. He already lost Robby. He can't lose Miggy too.

Miguel doesn't want to be around him for now, despite feeling bad for pushing him away

S3b

When finding out he was paralyzed, it hurt to find out, but at the same time, with his conflicited feelings about karate, he would feel a bit relieved.

I like to think that when the surgery worked, everyone was happy but Miguel because now people are going to expect him to want to go back to doing karate.

Eventually he and Johnny have a heart to heart and make up, though he's still a little bit hesitant on trusting him

he does reluctantly join Eagle Fang and he tries to make an effort to train again and get past his fear

Though things still feel like what it was like at CK, which isn't something Miguel is enjoying

Plus him being the only shot they have for the All Valley is putting presure on him, mainly due to Johnny

The scene where he tries to kick but fails happens

He falls and flashbacks of the school fight happen

He gives up and says he isn't doing karate anymore

That is until the finale fight when CK comes in and fights the EF/MD kids and Kyler beats him up

he remembers why he started karate in the first place and starts fighting again

He chooses to do karate again

S4

Again similar to what we see (Johnny and Carmen, the intro to Kenny, etc)

I think he still feels weird about being back in the world of karate and latches onto Daniel more as a sensei now with the conjoint dojos situation (he's a lot softer on him knowing his situation)

Which pisses Johnny off and makes him jealous (he just misses his kid ya know?)

He tries to make an effort with Miguel but he grows more distant after hearing Daniel's side of the events during TKK

This season could heavily parallel s2 with Kiaz as they're on the opposite sides of the coin now with Robby being with CK and Miguel learning more Miyagi-Do techniques

This could also bring more tension with Lawrusso because of how they're both treating and training him and how Johnny thinks Daniel is taking Miguel away from him

(maybe a fight scene about this idk)

Perhaps Miguel starts feeling bad about pushing Johnny away as he very much still cares about him and sees him trying

Daniel does talk to Miguel about how Johnny does care about him and how he's beaten up about everything and how he wishes he could change everything

This will make the whole "I love you" "I love you, too Robby" scene a lot worse

Miguel feels lost again

The sprain he gets during the All Valley was the final straw for him as he has a panic attack and in a heap of emotions, he leaves for Mexico, not just to find his dad, but to genuinely run away from everything

Also throughout this season, I really wanted to see more of Robby being guilty for what he did during the fight but pushing it away until he sees what Kenny does to Anthony and realizing that history is already about to repeat itself

Also also we do see Miguel talk about collage but brings up that he wants to become a PT (did I take this from someone who reblogged my other rant, yes) and probably want to go Boston University (they have a PT degree program)

S5

Same as we see for the most part

I was hoping Miguel would bring up the whole "I love you" situation but he never did and I wonder why

I wish we saw bits of the car ride home from Mexico and the awkwardness between the boys (there's a good ao3 fic that does this pretty decently)

Perhaps Robby can tell that something is off with Miguel though and tries to spark conversation but the latter refuses to talk to the former because of the school fight

I think the break up should still happen

Both because with everything going on with him, the breakup would just be another stab in the chest, but also because that fucking scene was so good!! Like idk if Mary and Xolo get their flowers for that scene but I'ma need them to get their flowers for that scene

Now he's just this ball of emotions

Johnny still wants to push for the boys to be close since he's caring for both of them now (and ofc the baby) so like in the actual s5, he still tries to get them to talk

Now I would've preferred a heart to heart reconciliation (similar to samtory s6) but since the dudebros would think that's too soft and this is a fighting show, the balcony scene would be fine

Though I do think in a later scene, Kiaz should have a more emotional talk with each other

Miguel just talks about how hard it has been since the school fight and how everything keeps on changing and everything gets a lot for him

Robby tells him that he gets it and confesses how guilty he feels for being the one to put him in the hospital

And then I feel like the rest of s5 can go the way it did

i don't know. maybe this is too convoluted but I do think that the lack of characterization and constant mischaracterization of miguel diaz is due how poorly the writers went about him post s3a imo. i think they could've done something great with him in a way people felt for robby you know? they always randomly bring things up as a way to say "hey he has trauma too" but it's always at the most inopportune times and it always comes off half-assed instead. i love miguel so much because of his happy-go-lucky energy but he has so much wasted potential which is wild to say when he's the main character.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

the walls are thin - ch5

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch5 | next [masterlist]

// overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7955 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: oops, 18+ minors dni eventual smut, masturbation, incessant flirting (as always), msby besties, oh we're doing this already?, feelings are confusing but developing, drinking, frustrating a bit sorry abt that, she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

“i miss you,” he complains. you’d think you’d have gotten used to that phrase coming out of his mouth by now, but you can still feel your skin tingle. you roll your eyes nonetheless. 

“it’s not even been a full day,” you retort. 

he mulls over this for a minute before deciding that you’re wrong, “not true.”

“i think it is,” you say, “but even if it has been a full day, that’s kinda…,” you trail off, “pathetic?” 

he laughs, the pang in your heart telling you that maybe it isn’t so pathetic to miss somebody after not seeing them for a few tens of hours. you smile at him, eyes moving away from his gaze after just a few seconds. 

“i miss you too, maki,” you reciprocate. 

“not so pathetic after all,” he points at you through the phone. 

you purse your lips to the side, thoughtful, “no, still pathetic i think, just from both sides.”

“yea, fair,” he says, flipping over in his bed, lying on his side, messy hair against his pillow in a way that you’ve seen in person a few too many times. he called you this morning before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. “so, what did you even do last night without me?”

“well, i was planning on staying in and spending all weekend by myself,” you start, “but i actually went over to atsumu’s last night.”

“you? hung out with atsumu? on a friday night? what kinda things did you have to do for that to happen?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. 

“nothing,” you sneer at him, “he’s the one that suggested it actually.”

“yea, and how did that go?” he asks, tiny tinge of jealousy hidden behind the sarcasm at the end of the sentence.

“weirdly good. i thought he might try to make a move or something, but we just kinda hung out,” you explain, maybe omitting the parts where you fell asleep on his chest and told him that you think about him all the time. 

“and what are you up to tonight?” all of the questions that he keeps asking about your weekend are making you miss him even more, because the answer is nothing but you wish the answer was hanging out with maki.

you sigh dramatically, “well, you guys left me, so i’m having lunch with atsumu, but i’m on my own tonight. which isn’t bad actually, going to just spend some time alone, get caught up on assignments, whatever.”

“i’d probably be having more fun with you,” he admits.

“what? not going good over there?” you ask.

“no, it’s a blast. i’ve missed these guys and it’s been super fucking fun. last night, hajime convinced oikawa to jump in the lake with him and because oikawa was really drunk, he did it, but hajime didn’t jump with him and oikawa was really pissed. swear to god he almost drowned. it was really great,” maki laughs at the thought and then responds to your concerned look, “he didn’t drown, yn, calm down, it was funny.”

“and i’ve got to catch up with people that i haven’t seen since high school,” maki shrugs, pausing, “but i mean, they’re not you.”

you’re about to react, some form of i get that coming out of your mouth as there is a harsh knock on maki’s door. “come in,” maki answers. 

from off screen, you hear oikawa mumble something. it’s quiet. you’re not sure you could’ve made it out if you hadn’t previously spent so much time with oikawa. “hajime wants to go to the diner to get food, get dressed.” 

“alright, alright, i’m just gonna say bye to yn,” maki says, sitting up in his bed. 

there’s a loud squeak of the mattress as oikawa jumps on the bed, you assume. “yn! how is everything back there? making it by without us?”

“it’s been one day, guys,” you groan, jokingly. “but it’s good. i’m good.”

“yn hung out with atsumu last night,” maki says. it sounds like a tattle. 

oikawa tilts his head to the side, “last night?” he’s sporting a devious smile as he pounces on maki, both hands covering maki’s ears as he says hushed, “and how did it go?”

a blush rises to your cheeks at the whole spectacle. maki is trying to push oikawa off of him and oikawa, surely used to testing iwaizumi in the same ways, is able to hold his ground. “good, it went good!” you reply in a laugh.

“and? did anything happen?” 

“no! stop it!” you say, watching as maki finally throws oikawa off of him. 

“okay! okay!” oikawa has both of his hands up in defeat, sliding off of the bed and walking towards the door. “10 minutes, maki, we’re leaving in 10.” the door closes off screen.

maki shakes his head, slightly out of breath, “i gotta go, but i’ll talk to you later, okay? i’ll text you.”

you nod. “and i’ll see you sunday?” you ask.

he tilts his head, questioning, “it hasn’t even been a full day. kinda pathetic.”

“fine,” you say, calling his bluff.

“no! i’ll see you sunday, loser,” he says quickly, “god, let me make fun of you for being obsessed with me once in a while.”

you can’t stop smiling. “alright, alright. see you sunday, maki. can’t wait.”

“can’t wait,” he repeats and then hangs up.

&lt; 11:21 pm < have a good day ♡

> maki ♡ / 11:21 pm > you too ♡

/++/

you’ve forgone yours and atsumu’s lawn blanket set up as per his request, which you weren’t really expecting. after the events of last night, you assumed he might want to have the space to be close to you. maybe not. 

you didn’t ask questions, just chose a familiar picnic table and sat on the side that you knew you could watch atsumu approach from. 

and you do, eyes on him as he walks towards you. he cuts through the lawn, deviating from the concrete path, throwing a smile your way when he recognizes that you’re watching him. 

“yknow it’s almost getting too cold to keep sitting out here,” you say as he approaches, gesturing to your spot on the lawn. your spot. you cross your arms over one another, shivering slightly. fall is settling in, the semester more over than it is started.

he walks around to your side of the bench and sits beside you. you’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, making you feel this flustered. when he takes his jacket off, the same one that you met him in, the same one that was hanging on the back of his chair last night, and presents it in front of you, you know that he must be doing this on purpose. 

“are you really giving me your jacket right now?” you ask, mind screaming at you to just grab it. “we’re not in a cheesy rom-com.”

“are ya cold or not?” he asks, extending it a bit further. 

“yes,” you mutter, grabbing it from him and sliding it on. “thank you, tsumu.” you’re enveloped with him, soft fabric infused with his clean scent, and you’re not sure you’re going to give this back, so you hope it’s not that important to him. “it’s cute that your accent comes out when you’re short,” you point out. 

“shuddup,” he says, shaking his head. you scooch over closer to him, legs pressed together. he throws his arm around your shoulder, picks at your lunch, and you’re very aware at how much of a couple you look like right now. it’s quiet, peaceful.

he breaks the silence with a sentence that you’re confused by how he thought it was a good idea, “don’t be mad.”

you immediately face him, expression contorted into confusion and maybe a bit of anger for no reason other than what else are you supposed to feel when someone prefaces with that?

he explains, “i’ve been thinking about what you said last night and-“

“TSUM TSUM!!” 

you jump at the loud voice and nickname. you can’t locate the source so you swivel your head. you search for whoever is calling for atsumu while he continues to explain, “so maybe i told my friends that i think they could meet you and we were getting lunch today.”

“bo, come on, you said you’d be chill,” another voice, a different voice, says. 

“and maybe they didn’t even let me explain, just said they would be there and maybe were a bit too enthusiastic about it?” he shrugs.

you spot the source now, the same buff man from the selfie smiling at you wide and waving excessively. you offer a small wave back. 

“me? meet your friends?” you ask, shocked. you obviously were about to meet his friends. they were crossing the lawn as you spoke. 

“i meant it last night, i just didn’t know you wanted to meet them,” atsumu says plainly. “and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” ba-bump. 

you nod, because you’re certain that if you tried to speak, your words would come out jumbled. 

the two men take a seat across from you. the man with black and white hair beams, “it’s so great to meet you finally. we told him, said she’d probably love to meet us, but i think he’s just been embarrassed about us or something.”

“yn, this is bokuto,” atsumu introduces you. 

“and i’m sakusa,” the man with black hair and curly hair says, introducing himself. 

“it’s really great to meet you both,” you offer.

“hinata is going to be so sad he missed this,” bokuto says, “missing out on finally meeting the girl tsum tsum’s been talking about for weeeeeeks.”

“that’s enough,” atsumu says, shaking his head as he uses his free hand to shake it in front of bokuto. 

“bo’s right,” sakusa reasons, “atsumu does talk about you a lot.”

“guys, see, this is exactly why i didn’t want you to meet her, god,” atsumu says, clearly embarrassed, not used to being on defense around you, not like this. 

bokuto and sakusa are just smiling. 

“she deserves to know,” sakusa reasons, gesturing towards you. 

“yea, i deserve to know,” you speak up. there’s a prideful smile on sakusa’s face.

“never letting you guys interact again,” atsumu shakes his head, scrapes his fingers against your hip in a way that almost makes you jump. you can hear the lightness in his voice and when you turn to look at him, you can see the smallest warm smile. 

“so how do you guys know tsumu?” you ask, nickname slipping out just on instinct. 

neither of them tease you for it explicitly, but they do exchange a knowing look. if you were closer to them you could decipher the hidden meaning of she said it. she said the name. 

“volleyball,” bokuto says, “we all met at volleyball. atsumu is our setter. but also now our best bud.”

“yknow, i don’t think i’ve actually ever asked anything about your volleyball stuff,” you say to atsumu, putting your hand on his knee. you’ve always just talked about it vaguely, no real details. 

“but he's the volleyball guy,” sakusa smirks. 

“no-,” atsumu says.

“yeah! that’s what that guy called you? right?” bokuto asks. atsumu is about to interrupt again, a last-ditch plea on his face, but bokuto doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it, “maki.” your best friend’s name comes out of this stranger’s mouth in a mocking tone and oh my god atsumu talks shit about maki to his teammates/close friends.

there are a million ways you could react to this statement, stammering and stumbling over your words as you land on a sharp laugh. “i- you-,” you can’t stop laughing, “is that? does atsumu-.” you really can’t talk. 

“what?!” atsumu asks as if he has any room to be the one questioning you.

“you just,” tears are forming at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his shoulder, forehead against his jacketless skin, “fuckin- it got to you that badly?” you turn your attention towards bokuto, “is that how he said it?” 

bokuto, ever the betrayer of atsumu, nods his head. 

“quit it,” atsumu says, less shocked and embarrassed now, your laughter infecting him. “that’s how he said it.” there’s a smile behind the words, soft laughter coming along with it. when you don’t stop laughing for another few seconds, and then a few more, atsumu wraps his arms around you, smothering him in his strong arms. “yer being ridiculous.”

you push away from him and in between your fits of simmering down laughter, subsiding for only a few seconds at a time before picking back up again, you catch the smile on sakusa’s face that says so clearly that you can tell without knowing him at all, so this is why he can’t stop talking about you.

once you’ve finally composed yourself, you turn to sakusa and bokuto, “and you guys play?”

“we both play outside hitter,” sakusa explains, looking like he’s about to elaborate a bit further, but atsumu interrupts.

“since i’m the setter, that means that i’m kinda like the brains of the operation.”

“oh, fuck off, miya,” sakusa says, rolling his eyes. 

you laugh, “i know what a setter does.”

“how? we’ve never talked about it?”

“well, no, but i’ve seen maki play plenty of times,” you note, “oikawa’s a setter. maki and iwa play outside hitter. you didn’t know they played too?”

“oh my god, they’re both the volleyball guys,” sakusa comments, leaning back in his seat like he’s just had the biggest epiphany. 

“fuck off, omi,” atsumu sneers and then turns his attention back to you, “you never told me.”

you put your hands up, “i don’t know! i guess it just never came up.”

bokuto reaches out his arm, grabbing your forearm excitedly. “well, one day you’ll have to come watch us play, yn,” he says, smiling brightly at you. 

“i would really love that, actually. tsumu’s never invited me to one of his games before, so,” you say, shrugging. honestly, it had never been a thought on your mind before, a lot of things hadn’t been on your mind before, but now that you’re sitting here with his very fun friends, you really want to be a part of it all. a part of this side of his life, not the one that you’ve created and pulled him into, lunches and tiny meet ups and dragging him to the grocery store and having him babysit your plants, but whatever this is that’s making your chest feel so light. 

“or let you meet us,” sakusa chimes in. 

“yea, for good fuckin’ reason,” atsumu quips back.

“well, consider yourself officially invited to our next game,” bokuto nods, “here, give me your number and we can-.”

“no way,” atsumu interjects. 

you’re already reaching into your bag, pulling out your phone, ready to punch in bokuto’s phone number. 

“i really don’t need you guys to have more ways to talk shit about me,” atsumu says, but there’s no malice in the words. 

“i wasn’t going to talk shit about you, tsum tsum,” bokuto rolls his eyes, offering out his hand for you to drop your phone into. atsumu is skeptical as he lets you give your phone over to bokuto. as soon as his fingers curl around the phone, bokuto finishes his thought, “but there are plenty of cute photos of you that i have that don’t seem very fair for yn not to have.”

atsumu lunges forward to grab the phone out of bokuto’s hand, but bokuto pulls it back quickly. “bokkun, i swear to god,” atsumu says, standing up as best he can while still being inside of the bench. bokuto is already two steps ahead, springing from his seat, nearly hitting sakusa as he does. 

“watch it,” sakusa warns. 

bokuto is gone, running away as he presses buttons on your phone. atsumu is much more careful on his side, makes sure to unravel from you before stepping out of his seat. “i’m not kidding!” despite the head start bokuto acquired, atsumu is already almost on his heels. bokuto is laughing, head thrown back as he messes with your phone. 

sakusa takes this moment of chaos to talk to you directly. his voice pulls you out of this awestruck daze watching atsumu jump on bokuto’s back. “i can see why he talks about you all the time,” sakusa says lowly across the table as bokuto runs in circles with atsumu on his back as if he weighs nothing at all.

you’re feeling a bit more confident at this sentence, a bit more easily yourself, so you let it slip as you turn to face sakusa, joking as you say, “what? i’ve proven how cool i am in this tiny lunch?”

sakusa chuckles, breathy, before nodding affirmingly, “not exactly what i meant, but yes, that too.” he pauses, contemplating if the thing he’s about to say next is pushing a boundary, saying too much, figuring out how to phrase it before it actually comes out of his mouth. “i meant more that i understand why he talks about you all the time.”

you’re quiet, tilting your head curiously. 

he doesn’t let you sit on your thoughts, finishes his sentence right as bokuto and atsumu are running back towards the table, “because he’s really into you.”

you don’t get to respond, interrupted by bokuto hiding on one side of you, finishing whatever he’s doing on his phone before thrusting the phone back into your hands. he sticks his tongue out at atsumu and atsumu narrows his eyes. “atsumu’s just worried that he’s going to fuck up at our game when you’re there.”

this is all so cute, the bantering and the things that bokuto is saying, but you have so many fucking questions. you want them to run back over there for hours so that you can have a long, in-depth conversation with sakusa about what exactly he fucking means. 

you don’t want to seem unresponsive or like you can’t keep up, so you reply, “maybe i’ll bring maki along and he can show off like he always does.” you almost regret it, but sakusa and bokuto start laughing just like you were laughing earlier and bokuto is slamming his fist on the table and atsumu doesn’t look hurt at all, he looks amiable. 

you turn your head towards atsumu, the laughter allowing you cover to speak just for him, “or i’ll just go and cheer you on. if you’ll have me there.” atsumu gives you a short, affectionate nod. 

sakusa and bokuto leave about a half hour (that’s spent mostly making fun of atsumu the entire time) after that, saying that they’ll see you again soon, they’re sure, and waving as they leave. as soon as they’re out of earshot, atsumu lets out a huge breath. 

“i told you,” he says, shaking his head, body finally relaxed in a way that makes you realized he was tense the entire time. “i told you that they were fucking weird.”

“they’re not weird, they’re sweet,” you say back. there is a certain peacefulness now that you assume only exists because of the huge absence of noise. it’s not better, just more familiar. you slot your fingers into atsumu’s, holding onto his forearm with your other hand. 

“yea, if you’re not on the other side of all of their bullshit,” atsumu shakes his head. 

“maybe if you didn’t talk about me so much,” you tease.

“don’t let it go to your head,” he says, lifting his arm that you don’t have a hold of and tapping on your forehead. you press your forehead into him, laughing. 

the two of you sit together for another few hours, pulling work out of your bags that neither of you really focus on. you mostly spend the time cracking jokes at the other’s expense or for the other to laugh at and finding new ways to get tangled into each other on a picnic table bench until it’s time to leave.

“i’ll see you sometime tomorrow, yeah?” you ask, moving around school work and responsibilities and seeing maki in your head to make room for atsumu in your day.

he leans forward, presses the quickest, smallest kiss into the side of your cheek, “obviously.” as he leaves, the warmth stays, on your cheek and down your chest, through your fingers and toes. partially because of the kiss, sure, but mostly because of the hoodie he’s entrusted in your care. 

/++/

you are both so excited for and dreading your night alone.  you are excited because it’s been awhile since you’ve just had some time in your room by yourself. you are welcoming the extra time to catch up on assignments and take a shower and not do anything else that requires thinking. 

you are, however, despite all of this, mostly filled with dread. saturday night is a staple miya atsumu hookup night. last week it was fine, the week before that, sure, whatever, but after last night, the thought of atsumu hooking up with some random girl that he found out at a party is bringing back a familiarly upset stomach. if you hadn’t had spent the night last night as you did, a taboo listening session might even have been in the stars tonight, would have been maybe really welcomed. 

but now you’ve slept in his bed. you’ve been in his arms. you’ve been on the other side of the wall. there are memories attached to this vision of him now. when you close your eyes, you can see his room so clearly. if you had to think about them in his bed, the one that you felt safe cuddled next to him in, the one where he told you about all of his childhood friends, if you had to think of her on his pillow instead of you? 

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will have a great night all by yourself even if that means sleeping on the farside of your room and using your noise canceling headphones at full volume.

the later it gets into the night, the more antsy you’re getting. hours are ticking by and you have never been this productive in your life, assignment after assignment finished just to stop yourself from thinking for longer than a few seconds. you won’t have to worry about school work for the next few weeks. 

it’s nearly 1 am by the time that you’ve finished all of the work that you possibly can, which, in hindsight, was such a horrible idea. finishing all of your work before the 1-3 am time of the night? 

well, maybe if you’re just not in your room when he gets back, you can just put your headphones on and not have to think about it at all tonight. you grab a change of clothes, your towel, all of your bathroom essentials, and make your way to dorm showers at the other end of the hall. 

your shower takes much longer than it should because you make sure that it does, but somewhere along the way you must have pissed someone off, something from your past must be coming back to haunt you because instead of timing it perfectly to miss him completely, you’ve timed it perfectly to catch him completely. 

he’s all dressed up, hair perfectly done in a way that begs to be messed up, stupidly cute outfit, something plain but looks insanely good on him, enough cologne to fill the entire hallway, and, only when he sees you walking down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. 

you feel extremely underdressed, walking up to him. partially on account of the fact that you are wearing a huge tshirt, underwear, and absolutely nothing else. you don’t know if he’s already been drinking, if he doesn’t notice, or if he doesn’t care, but his eyes follow down your body slowly. 

every single moment in your life has happened because of a culmination of things; this is just a fact. everything that has happened in your life up until this moment has built up to this moment, that’s how living works. you knew this. 

but god you wish you could see a chart, could zoom in on every single point that had a hand in this moment and alter them in some sort of way that wouldn’t have caused you to say what comes out of your mouth. 

you look down at your phone screen, checking the time. “woah, you hung out with me on friday and no company tonight?” you ask as you step around him and in front of your door. why would you say that. 

you know why, vaguely, not completely. you’re not completely sure why you chose to essentially divulge the biggest secret you’re harbored of your entire college career in one sentence, but you know that it had something to do with how flustered you were in that moment, how good atsumu looks in front of you, and maybe the fact that it’s all you’ve been able to think about tonight.

it slips out, really, no barrier of judgment. you guys have been friends for too long. the quips and the teasing come so naturally now that you can’t help it. 

this is the first time that you’re admitting this to him. your heart is pounding as you wait for him to respond. he’s not responding quick enough. you hope that he just doesn’t clock it, doesn’t understand the implications of the joke.

he furrows his eyebrows together, stopping completely, “what?”

your body is burning. how do you backtrack from this. where do you go from here.

when you don’t answer immediately, his mind starts filling in the blanks, and he starts asking more questions, “company?”

“yea, like,” you clear your throat, shifting your towel under your arm, “y’know saturday nights and company.”

he turns to face you completely and you feel like this is your first time meeting him. you feel small, tiny, chest aching because of the violence of your heart. even more so when you see the embarrassment creeping onto his face. “how would you know if i have company?”

this is it. the fucking moment. it’s been over 4 months. the two of you have lived next to each other for nearly an entire semester. you went 2 months without even knowing him, 1 month with fixing all of your previously conceived notions, and this past month falling for him and it’s all about to go crashing down because of a stupid joke you’ve made. 

“you weren’t exactly subtle about it,” you answer and you’re amazed at how your voice is actually audible. 

a lot of things click for atsumu in that moment, you can see it on his face. 

“you heard that?” he asks, quietly stunned.

“all of it,” you answer.

it’s quiet for a moment. you can’t even hear the hum of the lights or the beat of your own heart as you wait for his reaction to the admission. 

“fuck,” atsumu says, palm smoothing over his face, “god, i can’t recover from that at all can i? holy shit.” he doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him. he doesn’t look put off or uncomfortable. “holy shit. okay. well, fuck.”

you’re about to apologize when he shakes his head, fingers pushing through his hair. you can’t exactly read whatever emotion is there, maybe panic? you can’t get a good read because it’s gone soon thereafter. 

“no,” he says slowly, “i don’t have company tonight. was going to go out and drink with some friends, but i left my ID in my room.” he gestures to the keys in his hand, knuckles white around them. “you still alone this weekend?”

you nod, not really knowing what to do, where to go from here still. he’s not being weird. he’s trying to resume conversation with you, but something feels off. you want to say, “yea, i said i’d be alone all weekend, don’t you listen?” but any joke that comes to you feels too harsh, too out of place, terrified that it’ll end up an admission of something else.

“do you want-,” he begins to ask, but you shake your head so hard that you’re convinced you shake water droplets out of your hair and onto him. 

“no, no, are you kidding? i look like this,” you gesture down.

atsumu looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. fuck. you’ve really ruined things now. 

“go out with your friends,” you say, nodding your head down to the elevators. 

“we don’t have to go out,” atsumu adds.

“i’m not keeping you in on the weekend again,” you say, shifting your weight. “seriously, i’m okay alone tonight, you go on out.”

“do you want to drink?” he asks, persistent as always.

“tsumu, i told you, i’m not going out tonight,” you say. the nickname is muscle memory at this point and you’re glad that at least you have some sort of remnants of a few minutes ago. 

“just, here, we can drink here,” he gestures to his dorm room. you feel like a fucking freshman again. “if you don’t want to drink, that’s cool. i just-” he hesitates. it looks more difficult than it ever has, but he steps towards you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “it feels weird for the first time between us and i don’t think i can leave if you’re not feeling okay,” he finishes, overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be, and you feel so horrible.

“tsumu-,” you start, but he isn’t having any of it.

“i’m serious.”

“one drink,” you say, “and then you go out with your friends.”

/++/

the thing about one drink is that nobody really has one drink. 

or, rather, you do at first and then you have another because the guy that you’re really into is in front of you, telling joke after joke trying to make you feel better about your relationship because you’ve just admitted that you’ve heard him having sex all semester.

and unfortunately for you and your self-deprecation, the guy that you’re really into is really good at making you feel better, not just with jokes and compliments, but with soft touches and genuine smiles. 

“i can’t believe you’re staying in with me when you look like that,” you say, shaking your head. you didn’t even have time to change, are still in the same post-shower outfit that you were before. 

“come on, you look better than i do,” he says, shaking his head, taking a sip of his drink and gesturing to you with his cup.

you’re sitting on his floor because the bed was a bit much after the painful conversation you had in the hallway. he’s sitting in front of you, back against his desk, as he sets his drink on the floor beside him. you let yourself flush, accept his compliment if only to fasttrack back to how it felt between the two of you before. 

the thing about more than one drink is that nobody really chooses a stopping point, not when the awkwardness has faded and the guy that you’re really into continues to stay the night with you. and definitely not when said guy has taken root next to you, pressed up against you completely. 

“fuck,” he shakes his head out of nowhere. he doesn’t even give you an opportunity to ask what, just repeats himself, louder, “fuck.”

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him, but not moving a single inch away from him.

“i can’t believe you heard all of that,” he says, shaking his head against the side of the bed. he laughs lightly, unbelievably. “that’s really just so embarrassing.”

for the first time tonight, at the mere mention of it, you don’t want to crawl into your room and cry. you’re not sure what exactly it is (it’s the alcohol), but you laugh with him, light at first, and then growing until you’re shaking your head. it is actually kinda funny. 

“it was funny at first, honestly,” you tell him, “i was like oh my god?? and then it progressively got, yknow, not as funny when i had morning classes and exams.”

“is that why we didn’t meet for the first two months of living next to each other?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. and he does, look at you, stares into your eyes with the amount of focus that someone as drunk as the two of you should not have been able to do.

“not really, more like a gift from god,” you say.

“hey,” he whines.

“yea, that night we met i was coming back from maki’s because i couldn’t take it anymore,” you admit to him. you can see the embarrassment settle in even heavier than before, a remorse coming alongside it. after all this time, you really didn’t mean for him to feel bad about it. “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“i mean, that’s so- i can’t believe-,” he stammers. you’re not used to seeing him like this and you understand why he had to have at least one drink with you before going out, because right now atsumu is feeling exactly how you felt out in the hallway and all you want to do is fix that.

even if it is at your own expense. 

“it’s fine, really, it’s fine,” you say, “it was funny at first, and then annoying, but i mean, eventually-” don’t you fucking dare “eventually it was good for me too.” stop fucking talking.

now he looks really confused and if you don’t explain no fucking stop he’s going to be even more weirded out. 

“well, i just mean, like,” you shrug, “like eventually i started to enjoy it.” shut the fuck up. 

he chooses his next words carefully, or as carefully as he can when the room is slightly moving. “like how?”

don’t say a fucking word. “like listening,” you admit. even in your drunken state, your stomach does flips. 

his face still has tiny elements of confusion, but most of it morphs into something much needier than that. “to me?”

you nod, movements barely noticeable but they’re making your head spin. the air is still, room quiet save for both of your quickened breathing. then, the only thing you can see is his hand, moving so slowly that you assume he’s afraid he’ll scare you off. he reaches across you, cups your cheek and pulls you to face him. when you’re looking at him, he doesn’t move his hand. 

he leans in towards you and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your body or the fact that an hour ago you were terrified that you would never be able to be in this room again, but you lean forward to meet him. he stops, just shy of your lips, talking so low that you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “and doing what?” he asks.

the whimper comes from your throat, lips tightly shut so it doesn’t have a chance to escape you. you lean forward further, pressing your forehead against his as his hand slides down your cheek to your jaw, fingers spanning your neck, curling softly so that his nails drag against your sensitive skin. you can feel it in your entire body. 

he lowers his head, nudges your chin with his nose, pushing your head further into his hand, exposing your neck. “can i?” he asks, breath tickling as he speaks. you’re not sure if he realistically thought you would deny him right now of anything that he wanted, really. you nod softly, not wanting to break out of his grasp.

the first thing that you feel are his teeth, scraping against the softness of your neck. and then you feel his lips closing around the skin. you close your eyes, no point in keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, anyway. atsumu licks a strip up your neck before moving down again. he uses his free hand to pull at the neckline of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. he wraps his lips around the bone, sucking repetitively until you’re positive that there’s purplish marks wherever he picks his head up from.

his moves his hand from your jaw, trust you to keep the position that he’s moved you into, and you do. he rewards you for this, both hands smoothing down your body, following your curves, digging into them as he pleases, latheing his tongue over the same spots on your neck and chest. 

“tsumu,” you whine, not really sure for what, but just for more. his hands are on your thighs now, his fingernails pressing harshly into the fats of them before sliding upwards underneath the hem of your shirt. he can feel your skin in his hands now, can’t get enough of it as he moves his hands everywhere and anywhere he can. 

when he gets to your chest, takes both of your perfectly soft tits into his hand, you hear him stifle a grunt. he moves one hand quickly, grabbing at your hip, sliding down from your waist, pulling you towards him, facing towards him so that he can feel you again, so that he can play with your tits better. his touch is harsher this time, more desperate, more purposeful as he goes straight for your tits, no longer ghosting over your skin, but aching for your heavy tits to be in his hands. 

god, he can only imagine what they fucking look like all pretty and bouncing for him. fuck he needs to see them.

he pulls away from you, sits up from against the bed, moves in front of you. he’s on his knees, towering above you in your seated position. you’re looking up into his eyes, whimpers falling from your quivering lips. he cups your face again. you’re ready. you’re completely ready to recall every little thing that you have heard over the past month. you know atsumu, you know exactly what he likes, and you’re going to blow his fucking mind. 

knock knock knock.

just before his lips can touch yours, there’s a pounding knock on his door. 

“no fucking way,” atsumu says under his breath. 

“miya atsumu, get your ass out here now or i’m breaking down the fucking door.” knock knock knock knock knock knock. it's almost scary until you hear laughter from the hallway, snickering at first and then boisterous. 

“come on, i don’t even interrupt,” you say to atsumu, looking towards the door. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock. “we know you’re in there.”

“they’re not going to leave it alone until i answer,” he says, defeated, “i have to answer and then- then i’ll be right back and-.”

“atsumu, you have 10 seconds and i’m gonna start ramming,” the voice says.

atsumu scurries up from the floor, walking quickly over to the door as you adjust yourself, smoothing out your oversized tshirt and patting your hair. “what?” he hisses as he cracks the door open. the person on the other side of the door pushes it open completely. 

“we’re going out,” one voice says.

“another night,” atsumu says, the door already closing.

“i’m not leaving without you,” another voice replies, not pushing the door back open. 

“and i’m not leaving,” atsumu says, and you can tell he’s getting impatient now. 

from your spot on the floor, you recognize one of them as a guy from one of the photos. dark hair, carefree attitude. suna? you can’t remember exactly if you’ve gotten the name right. you’re surprised that you’ve even noticed the person at all. you don’t recognize any of the other two guys that are with him.

one of them, not suna, makes eye contact with you for the tiniest fraction of a second, “you literally have any other day to hookup with some chick.” you wonder if he thinks they’re being quiet. your cheeks burn. you want to be back in your room now. 

“it’s not like that,” ba-bump, he says, trying to quiet them a bit or at least just bringing his own volume down. 

“doesn’t matter,” one of them says.

“i didn’t want to spoil it, but,” suna says, “samu’s here.”

atsumu gets quiet for a second, really mulling over the weight of everything that’s happening, at the two sides that are pulling him in different directions. “samu’s here?”

“yeah, he was supposed to be here earlier, but his train got in super late and so he just got here and he wants to go out because it’s a saturday night. it was supposed to be a surprise or whatever, but you’re not listening to me, your best friend, and just leaving now. so that’s what you get,” suna spews.

“but i-,” atsumu says, instinctively looking back towards you. the look that you’re wearing almost makes him stay. “fuck.” he slams the door on the trio of guys and you are so grateful. you finally feel like you can breathe, can relax just the tiniest bit. he walks back over to you. “i’ve gotta-.”

you push yourself up from off of the ground, stumbling a little bit as atsumu helps you back onto your feet. “you don’t have to explain yourself, tsumu, go hang out with your friends.”

“if samu wasn’t here, i wouldn’t-.”

“i know,” you say. and it’s the truth. you 100% fully believe him with all of your heart. 

“you could go out with us,” he offers.

you’re not sure that you could handle being referred to as some chick all night or atsumu’s side piece or looked at like you’d never be looked at again. you weren’t ready for a miya atsumu night out and definitely not when you’re already feeling it as much as you are. you shake your head. “you go and have fun, see your brother.”

he looks so torn, so frantic as he tries to think out the rest of his night, how to get drunk you back to your dorm without having to expose you to the people in the hallway. “i’m probably going to stay with rin and samu tonight anyway. do you want to just stay here and maybe,” he hesitates, the knocking starts again, “you can meet my brother in the morning?”

“really?” you ask. 

knock knock knock knock. “it’s literally so getting so fucking late. hurry your ass up.”

atsumu helps you into his bed in not exactly the way he wanted to help you into bed tonight. “yes,” he answers, pulling the blankets over you, the softness of them so familiar. “and samu will love you and you will love him unfortunately.” atsumu reaches down and kisses your cheek. somehow it has you more flustered than anything that’s happened tonight. “tomorrow, okay?”

you nod. 

he moves quickly after he’s noticed how content you are, throwing on his shoes, grabbing his ID from his desk, muttering under his breath things that you’re not sure are meant for you. fucking kidding me now? gonna beat the shit out of him for fucking i can’t fucking. 

“goodnight, yn,” he says, reaching for the door, but not opening until you’ve said it back.

“goodnight, tsumu.”

you hear a click of the door, your eyes closing softly. and then you hear the voices. 

“you’re seriously leaving her in there?”

“guys- seriously,” atsumu says, trying to stop the questions about what was happening in the room before they showed up.

“why’re you leavin’ a one night stand in your-”

“i said it wasn’t fucking like that. leave it,” atsumu says through gritted teeth. you hear the lock click.

“no fucking way. that was fucking her wasnt it?” suna asks.

“stop, she can fucking hear you, the walls are thin,” atsumu snaps. 

you listen for the footsteps as they get quieter and quieter until you can’t hear any at all. you know you should be tired. you are tired, but you’re also in atsumu’s bed all alone. your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is slow and-

you reach your hand down between your legs. 

with the scenes that are playing in your mind, you’re almost sure you could make yourself come with one tiny finger. you spread your lips apart with two fingers, sliding your middle finger down your drenched slit. you push the tip of your finger against your hole, head tilting back messily into his pillow. 

he barely did anything to you at all, felt you up and kissed your neck, and you are soaking wet. your mind won’t stop wandering at where the night could have taken you if you weren’t interrupted. how deep he would be inside of you right now if you hadn’t been interrupted. at that thought, you plunge your fingers inside of you, moaning at how good they feel, but they’re not enough.

you’re missing your dildo, your fingers can’t reach deep enough, not even as you shove another finger in and circle your hips on them. you make the mistake of kneading at your tit, but it only leaves you missing the feeling of his huge hands grabbing at them. you’re feeling so fucking needy. it’s not enough that you’re doing this in his bed, you need to be doing it for him. you roll your hips against your fingers.

your clit rubs against the rough texture of the blanket and you almost come on the spot. “fuck,” you say aloud. you take your other hand on the outside of the blanket and push the fabric in between your legs, circling your hips against it. “mm fuck, tsumu.”

the blanket feels so good against you. he’s slept underneath these blankets, has probably jacked off to the thought of you underneath these blankets “fuck!” you say louder. you know exactly how loud you’re being, but you also know that no one that you care about is around to hear them. 

your hands search around the bed. you don’t have time to feel any regret. it feels so good, you’re chasing this high, so fucking close. your skin feels like it’s crawling, aching. you fucking need this. you throw the blanket off of you, take your panties off and throw them across the room somewhere that you’re sure you will regret when you have to get them in the morning, but you need to feel it completely against your swollen lips and pretty clit. 

you take the pillow that’s underneath your head and shove it between your legs. you press down on the soft pillow as hard as you can to get as much friction as you can as you fuck your clit into fabric that smells so fucking much like atsumu. you’re drenched, sloppy against his pillow but you can’t stop. your fingers grip into the cushion, his name falling off of your tongue like an unheard prayer. 

“please, so close, so close,” you say, thrusting your hips against the pillowcase faster. you’re going to come. you’re going to fucking come on the pillow that he’s going to sleep on. “oh my fucking god,” you cry and you let yourself go, flooding as you come against his pillow. you can feel the mess that you’ve made smearing against the textured fabric.you can’t move. your bones feel like they’ve been replaced with bricks, but you need to see it. you pull the pillow up, your eyes instantly drawn to the large wet spot right in the center. fuck. you throb, so painfully empty. “fuck,” you mutter to yourself and put the pillow back between your legs, “not enough.”

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[roguekhajiit]

TW: Transphobia

I had my first ever encounter with a transphobic member of the LGBTQ community this week.

At work on Monday, I overheard some co-workers discussing Transgender Day of Visibility and how President Biden issued a statement acknowledging Trans Day. Since it just so happened to occur on the same day as Easter this year, my very close-minded co-workers took that and Biden's statement as evidence that Trans people are trying to take over Easter!

Now, I consider myself to be Non-binary (specifically Demi-girl/Agender), but I tend to fly under the radar, which is very helpful since I live in a very, very red state. It doesn't hurt that my normal sense of personal style is very casual and all black. So, I can wear traditionally "men's" pants, and no one pays much attention to me, which is the way I prefer it. I hate anything that draws attention to myself.

So, I bit my tongue and hyperfocused on my work. Then, when I went home, the non-binary gremlin in me just couldn't be contained anymore; I opened Reddit and made a post about how no one is going around trying to steal stolen holidays.

Now, I was fully anticipating pissed off Christians to rain their uninhibited fake outrage down onto the comment section (which happened) but I wasn't anticipating a self-identified 60 yr old gay man to come into my comments saying things like, "Why would you put a Trans holiday anywhere near a religious holiday knowing every seven years it's gonna land on said holiday" and "As a gay man I believe that the one part of our community is stifling the rest of us."

Tell me you're transphobic without telling me you're transphobic.

Now, since I can't just ignore the sheer inaccuracy of his math; according to Google from 2001 to 2100, Easter will only land on March 31st 5 times. Five times in an entire century. The last time Easter was on March 31st, it was 2013. So, 11 years ago, or over a decade ago. No one gave a shit in 2013 that Easter and Trans Day were on the same day. But let the president acknowledge it in a statement and everyone loses their fucking minds.

So, why would you avoid celebrating something important in your life on the off chance that it might coincide with someone's religious holiday? Of course, you wouldn't. If your birthday is on Christmas, do you no longer have a birthday?

"Next, why wouldn't you place it in the month of pride then each day of pride month could have a different day celebrating each letter of the lbgtq+ community."

Yes, that is what Pride Month is for, celebrating the diversity of the LGBTQ+ community. But are you gay only in June?

But sadly, even some in our diverse community isolate and vilify trans individuals just like what this old gay dinosaur is doing. For 15 years, a vast majority didn't know or even give a shit that Trans Day existed. That is until a president acknowledged it.

"May I point out there's no gay holidays that coincide with Yom kipper or Ramadan."

True, Yom Kippur and Ramadan don't coincide with any "gay holidays," but Shavout is directly in the middle of Pride Month. Any outrage there?

"So just piss off the Christian's so they have one more thing to hate us for. I find many in our community asking for acceptance while giving none, just my opinion and nothing more."

How very accepting of you to say, my lord.

"Maybe it's time we all in the gay community and cis people give the whole year to the Trans community."

But they aren't asking for the year, or even a month. They just want one day that is their own. And even members of our own LGBTQ+ community can't even give them that.

"I'm gay so I can't be transphobic."

Your statements say otherwise. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you are absolved of your transphobia.

Perhaps it's time we stop placating these dusty ass old gay dinosaurs and call them out on their hateful thinking. Their "I got mine" attitude only harms our communities. Just because you won the fight for same sex marriage doesn't mean you're safe. The fight for equality is never-ending.

More and more of us are having our rights stripped away right before our very eyes. Roe v. Wade has already been overturned, and they aren't going to stop there. They never planned to stop there. They are very methodically chipping away at our rights. Right now, they are focusing their efforts on the trans community, slowly outlawing their very existence. And while they have you distracted by that, they are quietly overturning same sex marriage laws. Your rights aren't safe and never will be safe as long as we have members in our communities who subscribe to this kind of thinking.

[wintersera]

would you be open to writing mommy!kim lip fucking reader with her strap

mommy!kimlip x f!reader

notes: felt like i needed to make reader a little bratty but i dont know if it’s bratty enough ☹️ kimlip is also a little mean.

cw: mommy kink, spanking, STRAP!!! (term cock is used for strap too), bratty reader (sorta), edging at the end?

word count: 0.9k

it’s currently 9am in the morning and it seems that lippie was in a horrible mood. you know how it is with her, sleeping at 8pm at night and waking up at 6am in the morning. but of course, oec are performing and she had to stay up late as hell.

now, as the youngest of the group, you were well… a bit of a brat. you wanted the attention of your mommy on you and not on whatever the manager was saying, so like an annoying little kid you came from behind, wrapping your arms around her waist.

the people around, and kimlip herself, were pretty much used to your behaviour, you’d always follow lippie around like a kid, hugging, touching, doing whatever to her. it seemed innocent at first, everyone just ignored what you were doing and carried on with their day, but as soon as you slithered your hands into her pockets to caress her thighs, she grew sort of annoyed and undeniably turned on. she wanted to listen to the manager so bad but your annoying ass was distracting her.

whispering under her breath “y/n stop. can’t you see i’m trying to listen?”

you ignored her.

continuing to rub your hands on her thighs, she had to stifle a moan. it was embarrassing for her, the manager questioning if she okay and if she was ill due to her flushed face. oh she was getting pissed off.

“we’re in public y/nie. save this for later or else…”

or else what? you thought to yourself. what is she gonna do with so many people in the room?

“manager. can i excuse myself? i need to have a talk with y/n. it’s important” with a stern tone and a cold look she turned to you… oh fuck you forgot that she was your leader.

dragging you outside the room and into another, she threw you into the wall with force, not enough to hurt you though. “what was that all about, huh?” her voice was flat, at this point you knew you were screwed.

“wait, sorry. i didn’t mean it.”

“didn't mean it? as if you weren’t trying to fuck me right in front of the manager” its as if her words were like daggers. cold and piercing. “why don’t you be a good girl for once and follow mommy's orders” reaching for the bag she brought with her, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was going to do. punish you? it seems like it. “strip. now.”

a shiver ran down your spine. strip? with the chances of someone walking into this room right now? “come on, obey mommys orders or else”

“o-okay mommy…” with ease, you took off your flimsy hoodie followed by your sweatpants, leaving you almost completely bare. it was embarrassing, she was standing there with full authority over your exposed body, lights on and everything.

“atta girl. now bend over”

and you did what you were told, fearing as if she was going to punish you badly when you got back to the dorms.

you wanted to please her, you obviously knew she was pissed off but you didn’t know it went to this extent. so with that in mind you spread open your pussy, arousal coating your folds.

if it wasn’t anymore humiliating, she suddenly slapped your ass, a loud thud echoing around the room. hissing at the hot throbbing pain in your cheek, it was quickly replaced by a feeling teasing your dripping hole.

“fuck- jungeun?!” another slap to your ass,

“that's mommy to you, another mistake and i’ll leave you here” hands on your hips, she steadies herself as she prepares you for her strap…? she brought her strap into the music bank changing rooms?

“oec we’re back on stage in 10 more minutes” panic starting to set into your body, what do you mean 15 more minutes? “m-mommy wait i don’t think we have enou-“ within seconds you feel her cock reach deep into your pussy, ramming into you without any mercy. an unbelievably loud moan ripping out from your throat, followed by the sound of her tutting in disapproval.

“be quiet”

fuck it was good. your legs were already shaking from the immense pleasure, her cock hitting your favourite place with every thrust. “oh my god, mommy- fuckfuckfuck slow down p-please” you could tell she loved being called ‘mommy’ noticing that whenever you call her that, she groans. her nails sinking hard into your skin leaving red stripes across the sides of your waist.

hands supporting yourself on the wall, you moan out loud on accident. as if you weren’t red before, your face was now flushed red, the embarassment was too much for you that you felt overwhelmed.

pulling your hair from behind, jungeun made you look back at her. eyebrows furrowed as she slams into your abused pussy relentlessly. “do i make you feel good? baby do i make your tight pussy feel good?” only focused on yourself you answered her with a small nod. unhappy with, your reaction she slapped your ass harder than earlier. “good girls use their words, are you gonna cum? tell mommy you’re gonna cum” the anger in her voice being oh so delicious, it was driving you so close to the edge.

“cum- cumming mommy pleasplease i’m cumming” legs beginning to spasm and your eyes rolling back, you felt your orgasm come close and then…. she pulls out. “what the fuck?” whining at the loss of her cock in you, sadness crosses your face, “why’d you pull out?”

she doesn’t answer, instead, she let’s your managers booming voice answer for you “oec, you’re about to get on stage” taking the strap of her, she places it back inside her backpack (specifically for the strap) walks to the door and stops before she could open it.

“if you perform well, i’ll think about letting that punishment go later” then she walks out without a care, leaving you without an orgasm. fuck…

[taboo-delusion]

So, I just discovered something interesting.

This is a bit of a long one, so bear with me. It's important. Seriously.

I just woke up a few hours ago. My meds are starting to kick in. I was having a very serious and genuine, deep conversation (in-head) and it was... beautiful. It wasn't happy, but it was beautiful. Not the point.

Point is:

I had not had a single fucking intrusive thought today until someone made a noise in the other room.

I am so fucking PISSED OFF

Why my brain refuses to realize that intrusive thoughts CAUSED the good feeling to go away, I have no fucking idea. I've known that for almost a year now, yet my stupid fucking subconscious refuses to change anything it's doing

Before I snap my fucking android phone in half and yeet somebody's face into neptune, I thought I'd share the discovery!!!!

Basically:

MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS DID NOT START UNTIL SOMETHING STARTLED ME OUT OF FOCUS

AS I TYPE THIS, I REALIZE THAT INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS -AT LEAST FOR ADHDERS- ARE A SURVIVAL TACTIC.

Elaborating:

When you fall asleep and your heart slows too much, your body does the falling thing to make sure you're still alive.

It's not that intrusive thoughts are *Just* because your brain gets too quiet, It's because your life has never been completely quite before, or -like me- the few times it is quiet, something interrupts. And even if it doesn't piss you off, even if you don't jump like I do, your brain still registers it as not safe.

--

Falling asleep, heart slows a lot-

Body: *Sends adrenaline just to make sure it still actually works.*

Drowning, even mostly unconscious-

Body and brain: *Hold onto that last half-breath even if it feels like you're head is going to explode.*

Going grocery shopping or talking to someone you think is cool-

Brain: *Remembers what it felt like the first time your guardian was indifferent or mean about something that made you happy or calm.*

Things around you actually get quiet-

Brain *Sends a thought you hate just to make sure you're prepared for a sudden problem.*

TDLR 1: Your brain isn't mean on purpose, It's just paranoid and still has a will to live.

Listen. I know I'm just some random dude from a weird blog. But I'm trying to translate, to assist. Maybe somebody else needs this realization as much as I do. I apologize for the yelling earlier. I'm still just as upset, but only at my dumbass subconscious. Now some time has passed, and I have regained self-control.

(I also apologize for the above paragraph, my brain nags for me to do this, but I can't remember why. So:)

I am no psychologist. Here are my qualifications (why you should listen to me):

As my friends call it- "Disturbingly self-aware at all times."

Paranoid Schizophrenic with actual (unrelated) OCD, with years of experience dealing with it- more healthily in recent years.

Philosophy and deep thinking is simply my default. I use metaphors, but everything in this post is entirely literal, ...except the angry threat. (*begrudgingly accepts disappointment*)

I am a fiction writer. I don't know about healing people/first aid, but I know a LOT about how anatomy works, with many deep-dives on the psychology/evolution side.

People irl generally consider me a genius? Idk how to gauge that, IQ tests are irrelevant with this type of... smart?. I've been compared to both Da Vinci and Einstein. So, ...actually that's pretty fuckin' cool- (I AM NOT TRYING TO BRAG! I APOLOGIZE IF IT COMES OFF THAT WAY! I've never put it all down like this, and I'm just surprised and questioning my reputation.)

(Also, I love playing detective, so naturally I call myself Batman XD.)

Autistic; I experience the world, and every situation, from a view without any context.

ADHD: My brain automatically -As a guardian I hate describes- "Can watch three different movies at the same time, all in fast forward, and can keep up with all of them." ... Well, yes, but technically no. Idk if other ADHD people do this, but my brain "connects the dots" so quickly, I end up laughing at jokes I've never heard before the 'punchline', because I've already figured out what you're going to say next.

Now combine all that. I am kicking depression's ass and now I want to help you do the same.

I have only mentioned the relevant things. Please keep in mind that ALL of these have both advantages and disasters. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I am running on four hours of sleep. For the love of whatever, I hope this actually helps someone other than me.

Qualifications are noted because: This is all stuff (and stuff like this) that I am just always casually aware of.

TLDR2: Even if I wasn't trying to help people feel better, Apparently I was born with a nat 20 perception/insight check, so please don't argue that I truly understand what I'm talking about here.

[yuri-is-online]

hi!!! congrats on getting more followers! i was honestly so excited when i saw the masquerade prompts. you don't understand just how much i love your works ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

may i please request prompt 3 for leona, vil, and jade?

thank you so much!!!

3. You were invited to this stupid party by someone you really can't stand, but you can't find them anywhere. Thankfully you found this wonderful person to dance with who is a great time and nothing like that person at all.

And you don't know how much it means to me that I make you happy when I post (つ﹏⊂) I do write things that amuse myself yes, but seeing my regulars in my notes makes me so happy. I think about you guys when I write stuff all the time ♡

notes: they/them used for Yuu, yeah I came up with this prompt for Leona what of it, references to Ch 6 with Vil, Jade and Yuu are implied to be in the "what are we" stage of the dumpster fire situationship. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Leona

How hard could it be to find a lion- well anywhere now that you are really thinking about it? They stand out, have an incessant need for sleep, are constantly making demands of other people, and oh yeah this one has a fucking tail. You would have thought it would be extremely easy to find Leona even if everyone was wearing some sort of costume because you would have just needed to pin the tail on the asshole but no. It would seem that several of these obnoxious costumes came with tails. Yours included, it was extremely annoying to sit on and you found yourself with many uncomfortable questions about how Leona, Ruggie, and Jack functioned at NRC with those things. Do beastmen have different furniture to accommodate their tails? Just how different is a beastman's anatomy to a regular man's and would Leona just show up already so you could stop thinking about his ass?

"Hey watch where you're goin'." Your thoughts are interrupted with faux fur. Lots of it, you loose your mask in the struggle to pry yourself free of the stranger's costume and are unable to use the anonymity to hide your opinion of his costume.

It sucks. Whoever this guy is he must have really pissed off Crewel to get stuck with this weird abomination of a fur trimmed cape. It barely matches the antlers on his head, he doesn't seemed that bothered by your look, offering you back your mask with a shrug.

"I know. Ugly as shit right?"

"You said it not me." You fix your mask back into place and look at the buffet table next to you both. "Hey have you seen a lion around anywhere? I thought I might find him next to the meats but haven't had much luck so far."

"A lion hm?" This man leans back folding his arms so really know he's thinking. "Can't say I have. Why ya' lookin for him?" He bends just a little bit closer to you. "Am I not good enough company for you?"

"But sir," You fake gasp "we've only just met and this lion invited me. I need to at least let him know how annoyed I am he made me waste my evening."

"Oh do you know." The man laughs. "Well we really should go find him then." He offers you his hand and takes you towards the dance floor, tossing his heavy, ugly cloak around as he does letting the weight push other couples out of the way.

"I thought you were taking me to look for my lion, Mr. Deer." Leona knows you are teasing him, that doesn't mean his ears twitch any less at being called a deer. "Are you sure you didn't just want to dance with me?"

"Bit full of ourselves aren't we?" He dips you and relishes the way you gasp. "Since when was he your lion?" Since you stepped on his tail but you don't need to know that. He certainly didn't until Ruggie pointed out.

"Since he decided to invite me to an event I was already invited to." You have every right to sound this smug but he really is not in the mood to admit it.

"You sure seemed content to ditch him for me. Sure that's smart of you? You're pretty tiny I'd hate to see you get eaten." The grumpy part of him sort of wishes you had ditched "him" to keep looking for your lion.

"Ah well." you sound shy, he hears your heart rate quicken ever so slightly. "I sort of owe him an apology? Every time I try to talk to him I get a but tongue tied and say a bunch of stuff I don't really mean." This is not news to him, he knows the steps of your heartbeat as well as he knows his own.

"Maybe he invited you because he owes you one too." He picks you up as the song ends, arms wrapped tight around your waist pinning your arms to your side and carrying you off back towards the buffet. "Do me a favor and get rid of the mask would you? I'm tired of you acting like I'm some stupid herbivore."

"LEONA?" Oh so you really didn't know. Pity that just makes him laugh louder. He had wanted to do the gently put he drops you just a tiny bit to hear you scream as payback for not knowing it was him. People are staring but he really doesn't care so long as your eyes remain on him until the night is over and return when you wake back up.

"Now," he sets you down in the corner where you found him "I believe you were complaining about me wasting your evening? Well I am all ears, just where do you suggest we go?"

Vil

Saying something out loud really does have a way of making it sound worse. "I cursed sweets Trey sent over to prevent the spudlings from cheating on their diets." Did not sound unreasonable to Vil. When Rook added "without telling the person whose dorm I was staying in or asking for their permission" he had initially scoffed, brushed it from his mind and gone back to preparing for VDC. Why would that matter? They weren't in charge of VDC, they didn't have any say in how he ran his group.

It's just one of the things he would like to scold his past self for. That action had nothing to do with the VDC; Yuu had correctly seen it as a further alienation of them from the broader school population and stripping of their autonomy. It was not something that occurred to him because Vil was not in the habit of viewing people as throwaways, everyone regardless of circumstance had potential. All they had to do was work hard and they would flourish, and the longer he looked at Yuu the stronger he felt he was right.

You had not originally been invited to the dance. Crowley had explained that first years needed permission from their Housewarden to come, and since Ramshackle did not have one, and you apparently did not count you were not allowed. Vil had been the last person you expected to stick up for you. Sure it sucked to hear someone say inviting you was "just a formality" but you were not going to complain about someone making it easier to feed Grim. You had intended to hunt him down and make Grim say thank you, but your great mage master had somehow managed to ditch you before you had found anyone you recognized, let alone Vil. It made you feel very alone, dissociative even, which had not been helped by the figure who appeared asking if you were alright.

"Do you need to go someplace more quiet?" You shake your head, fully aware your mask likely isn't helping your argument.

"No sorry I was just looking for..." The words die in your throat, you realize you aren't quite sure what to call Vil exactly. Friend sounds presumptuous, acquaintance sounds rude, and he is certainly not your anything let alone Housewarden. "The person who invited me." It sounds lame, but it settles you enough to let you stand without feeling dizzy. "I wanted to say thank you." The man in front of you smiles hand coming up to his face as if he is trying to hold back laughter.

"I don't think the Headmage needs anymore of an ego boost. Besides, isn't it a bit too early to be looking for someone you know?" You bite your tongue to keep from digging yourself into a hole, of course this stranger thinks Crowley invited you like he technically invited everyone else. And it would sound like you were a crazed fan if you admitted you were looking for Vil now, no one was as unaware of his fame as you were.

"I- I guess." You swallow your nerves and prepare to excuse yourself.

"Are you alright?" His voice is so beautiful, his concern doesn't sound fake at all as he guides you out onto the balcony and politely looks to the side when you take off your mask to breathe in the fresh air and steady yourself.

"Sorry." You have no idea what you are apologizing for.

"There's no need to apologize. You were invited, you belong here." He says it so forcefully you really want to believe him. "When people make you feel out of place, when they do things you don't like you have every right to let them know and demand an apology."

"Hah." You let out a sharp breath, turning to face your new friend with a rueful smile. He reaches behind his head to undo the straps of his mask as you continue to speak. "That sounds nice but you have no idea who I would start talking back to-" The mask falls and you stop dead, Vil's gaze just as intense as when he caught Ace, Grim, and Deuce but this time solely aimed at you.

"Why are you stopping?" He does not close the distance between you, no matter how much Vil might want to erase it he knows the first step cannot be his. "My advice isn't going to change just because you want to scold me. If anything I encourage it, true beauty cannot be achieved without feedback."

"You scare me." You admit.

"I am aware."

"I think you hate me." You take a hesitant step forward.

"I did not expect you to make me happy." He meets you in the middle, gently taking your hand and placing it just over his heart. "But you have been an unceasing source of joy from the moment I first properly spoke to you. If I have ever done anything to tarnish your happiness... no I know I have. I have made you feel small and alone and that is never a way a want you to feel." Vil is surprisingly strong, and his heart is beating faster with each word he says despite the perfectly collected look on his face. "If there is something I can do to apologize..."

"You could dance with me." The request is still much too timid, but a palace is not built overnight.

"As you wish."

Jade

Poor tiny Yuu, all lost, alone, and confused in the middle of a sea of people. They're searching for a needle fish in an unforgiving ocean, very much aware that they are running out of time. There is fear in their actions is so palpable and fragrant he stops to take a deep, shuddering breath and tastes it, rolling it around on his tongue savoring the imagined flavor.

Jade has you right where he wants you, all he has to do now is strike.

You are annoyed. Aggravated, slightly distressed maybe but you don't want to succumb to panic. Jade had slipped a handwritten invitation to the Masquerade under your door (that was completely unnecessary as Crowley had announced that everyone was invited) you had chosen to interpret as a threat. Confronting the bastard had only gotten you some fake sniffles and an insistence he would never ever hurt you.

"I am not accusing you of hurting me." You say blank look firm upon your face. "I am stating you threatened me." Jade has the audacity to quiver his lower lip.

"We have a one drink minimum here at the Mostro Lounge." His voice certainly wavers but sometimes you wonder if Jade has ever actually been afraid before, because the shit he is trying to pull right now really doesn't make it sound like he has. "Please at least order something, I would hate to lose my job."

And now the motherfucker is nowhere to be seen. You have got to look like an idiot, a well dressed dinosaur stomping around the jungle in a way all the other dinosaurs find annoying. Not that you can tell, everyone is wearing mask yourself included. The only way you would have of knowing who was who would be if you had somehow coordinated costumes, or checked with Crewel to see what someone was assigned. Which you did not do, but Jade very likely probably-

"Oh I am so sorry, are you alright?" Someone has walked into your thoughts and directly over your person, sending you both crashing to the floor. He recovers much more quickly than you do, reaching to help but pausing just before he touches you.

"I'm alright." You don't sound quite like you are, but you don't shy away from his touch as he helps you to your feet. It's hard to get a good read on the man in front of you, the mask he wears covers his entire face, including his mouth and his costume is billowy with a cape you swear could hide you both. As if sensing your thoughts he makes sure to flourish it as he brings you up to your feet. It's cute, you really wish you could see the way he looks.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks, not immediately letting go of you after he sets you upright. "It would be a waste to spend an entire evening so lost in your thoughts." You pause, considering your options, considering your partner. Jade is a neat dresser, this man is certainly neatly dressed, but he has a decidedly Rook like hat on, complete with some truly monstrous feathers, that's obscuring his true height. You also have a distinct answer that you are being watched and that this question as a wrong answer.

"Yes." You take his hand to his surprise, dragging him not to the center but off to a secluded corner of the ballroom where the music is still loud enough to hear but quiet enough that you can talk. Not that your partner seems to intend to do that, he holds you with a strange degree of gentleness guiding you through the steps of a much more formal sort of dance than you had ever done before.

"You seem quite frightened." The man finally says as the music begins to slow. "I do hope that wasn't because of me, I am only here to help after all."

"Motherfucker." You try to step on his toes and he laughs, taking control of the dance by tightening his grip on your arms and spinning you behind one of the lengthy curtains to press you up against the window.

"Later." is all he says as he ditches his mask, letting it fall who knows where as he pulls you into a deep heated kiss, intent on robbing you of as much air as he has sanity. He bites down on your lower lip as he leaves, sucking it until it swells and letting you up for air as he tightens his embrace. "You can yell and be angry at me for as long as you like later, but for now-" He presses another quick kiss to your lips "argue with me in a different way, hmm?"