#ncs scribbles

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

[wuthering-tempest]

dads and the pet they didnt want

[cchipollo]

magma doodles im too scared to share on twitter (including a nurse tom by tumblr account romanroyandtomwambsganshavingsex sent to me by my friend but im way to scared to tag people so sorry this is me pussying out aaah)

[love-toxin]

i dunno if you care about my gushing about leon being infected but.

god the remake made it so much hotter and i don’t see anyone talk about it and i don’t know how they don’t! i personally can’t stop thinking about it and i need infected/normal leon carnally.

:) my time to revive plagas leon has come.

(cws: gn! reader, plagas!leon + a lil yandere, post-canon divergence, needles, drugging, nc groping/kissing under the influence, leon has dirty thoughts, biting, blood, reader gets tied up)

Normal Leon is flirty, playful, maybe a little bit saucy at times if the mood is right. Plagas!Leon is a complete and utter menace, and possibly the most perverse thing you've ever encountered.

At the very least, he's not a complete puppet for Saddler's machinations. He has moments of clarity here and there, but they make way for a deep, unconscionable shift in personality when his mind finally accepts that his body is no longer the same. It's difficult to deal with, you can imagine--or you could, if Leon wasn't relentlessly tracking you down and hellbent on not letting you leave the village.

Could he try to talk to you? He could, if you would listen. But every time he faces you with those piercing carmine eyes, you start backing away, and that pretty face twists in fear and disgust at what he's become. Every time you shoot at him, you try to reconcile it as putting down the monster in him and not putting down Leon. But your sweet, gentle conscience can't accept that there's no difference anymore. This is all him, good, bad, and ugly.

Oh, but you're still so cute. You're so mad at him for the way he is, you throw things at him and grab Ashley's wrist to hurry her away when he comes walking up. He was angry when you managed to slip out of his grasp despite feeling that urge to kill you rising, but when Saddler was finally taken out, Leon felt his free will return and realized he had the chance to make his own fate.

And that's why he's waited. He waited day, after day, after day for you, having had to watch you leave with Ashley and Luis in tow and replaying that scene in his mind a thousand times over. The island is gone now, but the rest of the area needs tending to. He spends his lonely days ridding the castle of pests, disposing of bodies, clearing the village away and getting rid of any remnants of Los Iluminados. They don't belong here anymore because they couldn't leave anyways, and since he can't either, he has to cull the ones who might get in the way of your arrival.

Because he knows you. He knows you're certain of his abilities, but even if there was a shadow of doubt about his survival, you won't be sleeping well wondering whether Leon is still alive. If he can be saved, or if he just needs to be put down properly. He doesn't much care where your reasoning lies, so long as you do what he's sure you will and return to the village to find closure.

It barely takes any time at all--in less than a month, you're standing at the edge of the village by a newly-repaired bridge, a local police car parked anxiously by the entrance for fear of what lies ahead. You've got your gun, a map scribbled out from memory, and his jacket over your shoulders. Adorable. You missed him.

There's really nothing to fear, but he won't let you get much further than that village. There are a few Ganados stationed there as plants to relay information to him, but aside from feeding your fury as you take them out they really don't serve much purpose. Leon can feel you here, your feet hitting the ground as you run and the breath burning your lungs as you hurry away from the mob, booking it straight for the castle gate.

How sweet of you to visit him at home. He can't help but stalk you for a bit, watching you wander about the immense palace and search for clues, flip through his notes and break down into tears when you realize he's still alive. You have so much hope, and it's all stored in that little bottle of pills and a needle filled with sedative.

It all falls away when you neglect to notice the latter missing from your belt, only to thrash and scratch wildly at his arm when he comes up from behind to restrain you. A little pinch in the neck, a choked up sigh, and you collapse so limply in his arms like a doll.

Oh, he missed you. It's so much easier to kiss you when you're unconscious, you don't run away or shove him or shout at him that he's a monster. He wants to kiss you in other places, but...not now. He can be gentle and intimate with you like that later. You barely even flinch, you don't even kick at him when he gropes your thigh and brings his mouth to it to bite down. You taste so sweet, he just wanted a bit of your blood to satisfy the craving--he won't make it a habit, that is unless it ends up turning you on when he does it in bed like he's planning to.

And he is planning. You have a future together but it doesn't include anyone else--he's been given an escape from that depressing life he never wanted, but he's not finding a new one without you, the only good thing he's got in this world. Even if he's got to tie you up so you don't attack him the moment you wake from your stupor.

"Let me go! I'll kill you!"

You don't mean that, sweet thing. You're just tired, and scared, and you missed him. That's why you came back--not a force on earth could've made him revisit the site of Raccoon City after what happened there, but you came all the way back and threw yourself into danger for him, even knowing all that you know. The rest of this ugly world isn't worthy of you.

"I'll fucking shoot your brains out for taking him away from me!"

So feisty and cute. Is he really the one that's obsessed? Because watching you cry in desperation and struggle against your bindings is pretty telling, especially since you stop the moment his cool hand touches your chin. You know what he is, and yet you still look up at him like he's the same he always was.

"L-Leon, if you're still in there, I can get you out. There's a facility in Arklay that agreed to help--you can come home!"

It's a shame you're so hopeful. You even grace him with a relieved smile when he backs off, his brow softened at the sight of you practically begging for him. But it's in that darling, naïve way that shows you have no idea you're already being dragged down with him. And you'll only see that once his hand hovers over your lap, and he gently peels back the jagged fabric you thought might've ripped on your way over a fence, or maybe in one of the many struggles against the villagers for your life.

But you understand, he thinks you do, when you finally follow his eyes and peer down at the exposed skin. The bite mark still glistens with blood and saliva from where he sucked hungrily at the wound, but webbing out beneath your skin around the site are thin, black trails that move along your flesh like veins. And they grow as the seconds pass, spreading out deeper within your body as the infection begins its process.

You look up at him so frightened, and yet so angry, that he can't help but kiss you then. You don't have unbound arms to beat at his chest, or breath in your lungs to scream or cry at him for what he's done to you. His tongue swallows all those muffled curses up, sliding wetly between your lips to taste that effervescent warmth he knows you won't lose in your transformation. You're simply too radiant to become as cold as he is, although he's sure it'll add an exciting thrill to the sensations you'll share when you let those locked desires of yours flood out of you. Who knows, you might get so enthusiastic about your newfound power that you don't let him leave the bedroom for days--Leon would certainly welcome that after all this wretched time apart.

"Just get some rest, sweetheart." He whispers barely a hair's length from your mouth, tongue flicking out to trace your bottom lip and indulge in a delightful shiver up your body. "Let Las Plagas give you strength, and I'll show you how to handle the power. And...welcome home, darling."

[itstheghostofmypast]

Tornado Warnings

Idol Song Mingi x (F)Reader

Summary: She had to tell him one way or the other, but she didn't want him to take it any other way than it really was. Who was she confronting though, at the end of it all, herself, him, or their relationship?

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: insecurities, depression, anxiety disorder

Est.Read Time: 25 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Ratings: nc-17

Banner: @cafekitsune

Song Rec: Tornado Warnings (Sabrina Carpenter)

Staring up at the ceiling she wondered if she should tell him or not. He had been sitting at his desk, hunched over, the expanse of his broad shoulders making it look extremely painful. Ever so often he'd mumble to himself, reading out a verse, shaking his head, and then scribbling it out, the room littered with paper balls. After an hour of collecting them and throwing them in the bin, she had given up and decided to read instead- that was 3 hours ago, and by now, the room looked like it belonged to a toddler.

Slamming his hand on the desk he groaned, the wood shivering under his large hand. He was frustrated, she could tell, and he could tell too, but he wasn't frustrated because of the lyrics- no that was just part of the frustration. He was frustrated because he wasn't able to pay attention to her today, spend time with her, or talk to her, even though he had invited her over today. They were supposed to be free today, which they were, which is why he called her but as soon as he saw her face he felt as if the world had stopped and his brain had begun to jumble words together for some coherency- it frustrated him how she was his source of inspiration, yet the subject of neglection.

"Mingi?" She finally decided to break the four-hour-long silence. Shit. She probably wanted to leave, she was probably tired of waiting for him, of course, she was, why wouldn't she be?

"Mingiiiiiii~" she whined, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him, the soft material colliding with his head with an umf. Rubbing his head he turned around, staring at her, eyes filled with dread. 

"Yeah- I- am almost done-"

"I want to go to a therapist."

"Sure-" he paused, confused, staring at her for a second, brows knitting together in confusion, why? Was he the reason? Did someone hurt her? Was there something she never told him-

"Mingi, if you keep making that face and zoning out, I'll beat you with a pillow."

Snorting at the threat he stood up, shaking his head before stretching his arms over his head, making him look even taller. Tilting her head up to meet his gaze she frowned, unsure if he was going to take this well or not, but the moment he jumped on the bed beside her, his action causing the whole bed to rock, a laugh wracked through her body.

He laid there on his side, facing her, head resting on his palm, elbow digging into the sheets, most of his legs dangling off the bed as he smiled at her, "Okay, no more intrusive thoughts or work, you have my full attention".

"Finally," muttering, she reached over to run her fingers through his brown, unkempt, spikes, "Look at this nest..." His eyes closed at the kind gesture, only to snap open at the latter statement, "It goes with the concept- does it not look good?"

"Of course it does."

"Then?"

"Just makes it harder for me to...." she trailed off, averting her gaze and pulling her hand back to her lap. Sitting up straight he frowned at her, reaching over to clasp her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, "Love...what is it...you- we promised to always share right?" His voice was calm but she could sense the desperation in his words, slowly pulling her closer, both now sitting cross-legged on the bed, she was glad his bed was as big as him because even with his legs folded in and back pressed against the wall, he was taking a lot of space.

"I told- I mean, you know how I said that I kind of feel off these days?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been seeing this therapist and-"

"You're going to therapy? You didn't tell me? Is everything okay? Did something happen? Wait, you want to or are you going to one?" Brows knitted together he licked his lower lip, ready for more of his interrogation, why hadn't she told him? Did he have a role in this? What was the premise of the situation, were they going to be, okay?

Raising a hand gesturing him to stop and calm down, and for herself to do the same, taking a deep breath she exhaled and gained some form of composure. "I... okay, so, I only went once, free trial kind of thing, but then, she asked me a few questions I couldn't really answer, so I stopped- its been a week so yeah..."

Nodding in return he pursed his lips in thought before muttering, "What kind of questions?"

"Relationships..." He nodded at her short response, thinking for a moment before humming, "And...that makes you feel uncomfortable?"

It wasn't like she felt uncomfortable, in fact their relationship was one of the most important and joyous highlights of her life, but it was one that she was to keep to herself, at least for some time. It's not like she didn't know this before committing to this relationship.

"I- the thing is..." She began slowly, he could tell by looking at her expressions that she was choosing her words very carefully, "I just feel like I'll be lying, so it'll make the session pointless, on the other hand, I don't want to talk about us because what of it is leaked or something else..."

Nodding he thought to himself, humming as he leaned against the wall. He understood where she was coming from, on one hand, he knew how important it was to have a clear head, a cluttered mind often leads one to some form of depression. On the other hand, he wanted to be selfish and keep her all to himself, but letting her go...would make her happy, then the question is, did he love her enough to let her go?

He took a deep breath, pulling his hand away from her, choosing to cross his arms over his chest, as if he were holding down what was bubbling within him, and began his question, trying ever so hard to ensure his voice didn't betray him, "Do you...want to" only it did, turning into a faint whisper " ...you know?"

'"What?" Confused she looked at him before noticing the way his eyes had watered, connecting the dots, only to gasp and yell, "NO YOU IDIOT!"

Grabbing the closest object, she smacked him, over and over again, lucky for him it was a pillow, "WHY WOULD I WANT THAT?" she continued, hopping off the bed, after he had jumped off, to run from her.

"I DON'T KNOW?"

"MINGI! I JUST DON'T WANT TO LIE ABOUT YOU" She threw the pillow that hit the desk, things falling off, wells he had thrown it at him, but he had ducked out of the way, "YOU GENIUS, WHY WOULD I WANT TO LEAVE YOU!" She could feel the bottled-up emotions ready to blow, all the insecurities and second thoughts, the side comments and feelings fuzzing up, ready to spill, mixed with anger and sadness. To think that he would jump to such a conclusion so quickly. Was she not there for him enough? Did she not express her love enough? Or did he not feel the same way for her- in terms of depth and intensity, perhaps he was looking for a moment, a moment he could use to finally escape from her broken form, she was basically a whole package as it is, a burden he had to hide and conceal from the world- perhaps he was tired of keeping secrets too, only unlike her, maybe he wanted to completely let go, but who was she to say no to him, who was she to cling onto him?

"WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DISCUSSED THIS WITH ME BEFORE GOING TO ONE!" He yelled back, frowning at the mess, standing a good distance from her. Okay, perhaps he was upset, not only did she never mention the therapist before, but now he felt like maybe he was the problem. Though his voice had betrayed him, choosing to side with his bottled-up frustration, doing that one thing he had never wanted to do when it came to her, yell at her, to raise his voice and put the blame on her, even though he could clearly see her façade crack, yet here he was shoving it until it shattered.

For a moment she stared at him, quietly trying to arrange her thoughts, to understand her feelings, trying to deal with the turmoil, trying to compose herself, she knew she should have consulted with him before even getting an appointment but, perhaps she was not ready for the yelling. Letting out a frustrated sigh and closing his eyes, he rubbed his face, trying to calm down, to block out all the noise running around in his head. He didn't mean for it to get out of hand, especially not like this.

"I..." she began, only to sigh and shake her head, "Never mind, please forget I ever mentioned it." Walking over to the things that had fallen off his desk, picked up each item, and lined them up neatly against the wall. She could pretend this never happened, that therapy never happened, that her feelings getting the best of her never happened, the feeling of being choked by her own thoughts never happened- not because he had yelled at her, no, but because of the fear of losing him, she’d rather watch herself slowly crumble away than to lose him like this. A toxic trait, it really is, she could now see what the therapist had meant when she told her ‘You must love yourself first before being able to love someone else’, but how could she just let him go? When he had always been there for her, and for once when he couldn’t help her, what was she to do? Leave him- perhaps that would have been better for him, but maybe, just maybe, the jealous little insecure girl in her wanted to hold onto him as long as she could.

"Mingi?" his eyes snapped open at her soft tone, meeting her meek gaze she patted the bed, "Why don't you lie down for a while, I'll order something to eat-"

"Why are- " he corrected himself, "were, you seeing a therapist? " Cutting her off, he stood there on the same spot. Watching her sigh as she sat down on the place she had cleared for him, staring at her lap, "Because...I just...sometimes I feel things...Mingi and I can't understand them and it's like I'm being choked by my thoughts."

His gaze softened at the confession, sighing as he walked to her, taking a seat next to her, he pulled her into his side, arm wrapped around her shoulders, "I- do you feel like that because of me? Because of us- I mean I'd understand because we have to hide our relationship." his words were soft, but she could sense the desperation. Leaning onto him she shook her head, reaching for his free hand, as she began to play with his fingers.

"Never," whispered she clasping her smaller hand in his much larger one, "It was and will never be you- you, this relationship, us, this is the highlight of my life." A smile grew on his face at her words, pulling her closer, if that were even possible.

"But" she pulled away, much to his disappointment, “The thing is, if I lie in therapy, then I won't get a proper diagnosis" She paused staring up at him. Silently nodding he scrunched his nose, trying to push up his glasses without letting go of her hand. An extremely inefficient way, but he didn't want to ruin the moment, maintaining eye contact right now was vital. He knew when she looked up at him like that, she'd be hinting at him to process her words instead of reacting. The way her eyebrows were slightly raised, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, ready for her tongue to roll off the next list of words.

"But?"

Reaching with her free hand she slowly pushed his glasses up, sliding them up the tip of his nose to the bridge, "I don't want to lie about you, I can't pretend you don't exist. How can I say I am single? Forget our relationship for an hour I spend there, skip through the pages of our days spent together, like a chapter pulled out by the editor at the last moment." pulling her hand away she sighed, laying back down on this soft bedding, legs dangling off, arms folded above her tummy as she looked up at the ceiling- it would've been impossible to confess her insecurities and fears while looking right at him. The innocent face he'd make, pouting at her like a child, slowly processing her words.

"How do I lie about you in that office, then come back out pretending I never did such a thing, how do I get back to the rhythm without missing a step?"

Mingi let her pull away, knowing she needed a bit of space, he did do- more than often. So, he sat there, staring ahead, but his attention was solely on her words, patiently waiting for her.

"Even if I convince the doc you don't exist, does this mean I'll end up convincing myself that too- or worse, what if I end up convincing you that I- we, no longer exist."

She had no idea when she had begun to cry, not even a memory of when her vision had turned blurry, but a hand reached up to furiously wipe away the leaking emotions, the guilt that had begun to choke her soul, with a grip so tight and strong that it scared her.

"The worst part is, that you're not even the problem, you aren't the reason for my trip, but factors in my life I cannot control. My family, apparent friends, and this pressure- sometimes I just text you at night, knowing you're asleep, knowing you're tired, knowing you won't reply instantly- but you're like the light at the end of the tunnel, and I can't help but reach out for it when I'm being pulled back into my pit and-" she paused when she felt the bed shake, sitting up on her elbows she noticed his trembling shoulders.

"Min... are you okay?" sitting up, placing a hand on his shoulder, she gave it a light squeeze. "I just...the reason why I walked out was because she asked me if I had anyone around me, I could rely on with my eyes closed. And Mingi...I sat there, staring at her face like an idiot, how could I tell her, the person I blindly rely on is the goofy, giant, artist- I came to know about another idol whose doctor exposed him and well, I can't risk that, but I don't want you to have a partner that's not emotionally fit...you deserve the world Mingi, you deserve to be with someone who will love you as much as you love me, you have a big heart Mingi- I…I don’t I’m selfish, even though I know you deserve all that, I can’t let you go, and I’m not really sorry for that…I-" With a slight pause she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, trying to control it all, for the sake of it, for him, she whispered, “I can’t lose you.”

When she got no response from him, she moved closer, shaking him a bit, "Mingi?" she leaned closer only for him to turn away whining as he let out a choked, "Don't, Yunho says I look ugly when I cry."

She couldn't help but snort at that statement causing him to frown and turn to glare at her. Unfortunately, his red, puffy eyes and trembling lower lip made it too difficult for her to take him seriously as she gushed over him, "Awww don't cry -"

"You're an insufferable woman," he pushed her hands off as she wrestled to not move them, her laugh resonating across the room.

"What? you look cute!" she tried to pull him closer as his large palm pressed against her cheek, trying to push her away, "You’re a masochist, you can't say such things and then laugh! You do need mental help!" he half cried; half yelled in protest trying to not ruin his "cool" image any further.

Their little banter was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by its opening a bit as a head poked in, "Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you guys okay-" Seonghwa paused at the sight before him.

With one hand she was pulling on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, while her other hand was gripping the leg of his track pants. His eyes scanned the other idiot, whose palm was squished against his girlfriend's face, fingers covering half the side as if he was trying to push her away, while his other hand, arm extended completely, was gripping onto the edge of the bed like he was trying to escape. He noticed their puffy eyes and tousled hair, but he was so confused.

Seonghwa had been asked by Yunho to go check on Mingi. He was in his room when he heard the younger one yell, followed by a few things falling on the ground. He knew Mingi well enough to know he wouldn't do something stupid, but he also knew that the idiot had no control over his tongue when he was emotional. However, this was not what he was expecting to see.

"uhh... never mind."

The door closed as the two exchanged a look and burst out laughing, Seonghwa who was on the other side of the door shook his head and walked away, leaving them be.

She was too busy laughing to realise when he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight as she wheezed. Her face was buried in his neck, giggling against him. He let out a sigh, letting the silence envelop them both for a while, her body still pressed against his, arms not budging an inch, both of them lying on the soft bed. The sound of their calm breathing, mixed with the low buzz of the air conditioner had almost lulled her to sleep, his warmth wasn't helping her either. Just as her brain was about to slow down to neutral, she was violently shaken awake, "Excuse me, don't you sleep on me."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU~" whining she pulled away only to almost fall off the bed until he pulled her closer. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." he smiled at her, when she placed a soft hand on his cheek, pinching it, "I'm not upset Mingi."

"You know Hongjoong is a great person to talk to" he suggested but stopped when he saw the face she was making, "what?" he asked, placing a limp arm on her waist.

"You realise he once advised me to put laxatives in your juice when you pranked me on my birthday."

"WHAT-" He gasped sitting up, "SO IT WAS HIM?"

"So, I think I should just stick to talking about my problems with you." she sighed, laying on her back and closing her eyes, "After a nap though- and you treat me with a nice meal, after ...that," she mumbled, feeling the fatigue left by the rush of various emotions. A few seconds had passed and she was almost asleep, her reflexes slowing down. She was almost asleep until she felt something soft press against her lips for a quick second before she was enveloped by extreme warmth, which could only be him pulling her closer, ignoring the problems and insecurities of the world for a few hours- just the two of them together, alone, peacefully happy in their dreams.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee

@mlysalt @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: Soft NC-17 for this chapter. Warning: Communication is a THING. These two are trying. Buggy is mopey. They're working on it, okay. Talks of sex, some touching happens, Cupcake needs her man. A/N: Still dealing with relationship stuff.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e @fanshavegottensotoxic @honey-deerling

Chapter 13

The two of you took a ‘break’ from what you had been up to for a month, instead going back to more simple sex. Buggy still thought writing up scripts was the way to go, but you were neutral on the idea. While you understood where he was coming from as it was to make you more comfortable, it felt like maybe some of the fun and spontaneity was taken out of it, which you told him when he brought it up again one night, leading to an argument.

“It’s for your benefit!” He insisted as he held out the blank sheets of paper to you. “I don't want you upset again!”

“Buggy, I appreciate it but I don't think it's going to work!” You told him from your spot on the bed, refusing to take the stack from him. “Why does it have to be a script? Why can't we just write out some things that are not okay to say?”

“Becaaaaause!” He whined pitifully. “What if I upset you again? Baby, I don't want to make you cry!”

“If we talk things out we’ll be okay.” You sighed as he pouted at you. He looked silly, face still full of makeup, hair pulled back in his bandana, lips pouty as he looked down at you with the papers in his hand. He kept trying to get you to take it from him, which you knew if you did it meant the possibility of him wanting to write out extravagant scenes of sex that could either be incredibly cringy or incredibly arousing, you weren't sure.

“Okay, okay, here's my suggestion.” You finally said. “We can try it once and if it ends up working then great, but if it doesn't we don't do it. How does that sound, babe?”

Buggy stopped pouting long enough to think it over. He could win you over with the idea, he just had to make sure the first time was perfect. He didn't want to be the reason you cried.

“Okay, fine.” He agreed. “I'm going to write the most mind blowing sex scene for us, babe. You will be begging me to fuck you.”

“I kinda already do, Buggy.” You reminded him. “Frequently, I might add.”

~

You knew Buggy had focus when he wanted it and right now he was the most focused you'd ever seen him since meeting him and you were the center of it. He was laying on the bed on his stomach, kicking his feet as he stared at you with a stack of paper in front of him, scribbles, words, things crossed out were scattered across them as he chewed on the end of his pencil while you sat back against the headboard knitting a hat. It was evening, the two of you dressed down for the night with him in boxers and you wearing one of his shirts to sleep in. It wasn't worth sleeping naked in case either of you had to get up in the middle of the night for an emergency.

“Might as well illustrate what you wanna do, babe, since you've been staring at me for so long.” You said, not looking up from your project. “ What are you planning in that head of yours?”

“Oh, you'll find out.” He grinned, reaching over with the pencil to tap you on the foot lightly. “You'll love it.”

You glanced over at him, nudging his arm with your foot gently. He grabbed it and kissed the top of it before he returned to his papers.

“You like me being fearsome, so I gotta make sure I'm like that for you.” Buggy said as he wrote some things down. “And I love what you do for me, y’know, all that shit you say. The filth that comes out of your pretty mouth is so surprising, babe.”

“Aw, well, I'm glad I can surprise you.” You grinned, setting the knitting aside before stretching out on the bed in front of him, laying on your side as you propped your head up on your hand. “So, what do you have so far, Buggy?”

He looked at you, down at the scribbled pages, then back at you. “Nothing… yet! Art takes time, babe, you can't rush the process!’

“Okay, okay.” You chuckled softly. “Just let me know what you need.”

Buggy shrugged as he looked back down at his papers. He just wanted it to be perfect. He didn't want to see you upset like that again. He didn't mean to upset you that day; a month had passed but it felt like yesterday. He was determined to make sure you two could still continue what you had been doing but without anyone feeling put out. With a sigh he wrote some things down again before tapping the pencil against the paper.

“Would it help if you said out loud what you wanted to write?” You suggested. “I won't say anything, I'll just listen.”

He shrugged again, crossing something out again as he mumbled, “I just want it to be perfect.”

“Babe, I love you and I'll love whatever you write out, okay?” You assured him. “It's not like we’re going to have an audience, y’know, so don't worry.”

“Still.” He frowned and crossed his arms in front of him, resting his head on them. “Just want it to be perfect.”

You sighed and reached over to run your fingers through his hair gently. This was something you had been worried about, that he would stress about it more than he needed to. You got up and crawled over to him, pushing him onto his back before settling on his thighs. He looked up at you curiously, his hands moving to rest on your thighs as you placed your hands on top of his.

“Here's the thing, babe. I love when you fuck me.” You started to tell him as your fingers laced with his as you looked down at him. “You are sweet, gentle, and caring and I love that about you. And I also love it when you're rough and when you tell me all the things you'd do to me if only we had time.” You grinned down at him. You always loved seeing him under you. “Y’know, about making sure I can't walk for a few days, how you'd fuck me ‘til I'm seein’ stars and your name is the only one I'd know after you're done wrecking me.”

“Fuck, Cupcake-”

“Yes?” You pulled your hand free from his and reached down to touch his cheek. “I can stop if you want. Just let me know, okay?”

“Mm, no, no, it's fine, just…” He turned his head to kiss your palm softly. “Give me a sec, babe.”

You nodded, stroking his cheek softly as you moved your other hand to his chest, sliding your palm over his chest slowly, running your fingers through his chest hair, occasionally tugging at some of it. 

“I love you, Buggy.” You murmured as he nodded, taking a deep breath before he sat up suddenly, arm wrapping behind your back to keep you from losing your balance from his movements. Your hands went to his shoulders, steadying yourself as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“You fuckin’ better.” He growled, catching you by surprise. He grinned, keeping you close as you stared at him. “Aw, babe, did I startle you? You thought you had me all relaxed and cozy under you, thinking you were in charge.” 

“Yea, um-”

“Shh, shh, don't talk, baby.” He murmured, tightening his hold on you as his free hand moved between your bodies and between your legs. “This is okay, yea? Tell me this is okay.”

“You um, just told me not to talk, Buggy.” You assured him, digging your nails into his shoulders as his fingers dipped between your folds. You had opted not to wear underwear, just out of laziness, and you were glad you didn't. “But, um, this is okay, really.”

“Good.” Buggy grinned as he touched you, teasing you just enough that you were squirming in his lap. “What should I do to you, hm? Keep touching you like this, or should I watch you fuck yourself on my cock while I sit back and watch?”

“Oh fuck.” Honestly, you didn't care. He was touching you so carefully, fingers circling your clit, brushing over your entrance, the gentlest of touches, when really you just wanted him to get to fucking you. You let your head drop onto his shoulder, letting out a pitiful whine before he was tutting and shaking his head.

“No, no, I need to see your gorgeous face.” He scolded gently. “Cupcake, baby, do I need to back you into a corner to get you to look at me?”

“Gimme a second, Buggy!” You huffed at him, digging your nails into his skin as he pressed his finger in slowly. “J-Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ this.”

He grinned, his hand still while you took a deep breath. You didn’t anticipate this happening, but you weren’t complaining. You just wanted him to relax, to stop worrying about every little thing, and if him taking charge like this and teasing you until you wanted to scream then fine, you could cope with him slowly pushing his finger in, barely to the second knuckle, whispering to you how much he loved you, that you meant the world to him, that he was going to fuck you slow tonight, take his time for sure until you were a mess underneath him.

And he did pull his hand back to flip you onto your back, looking down at you. Buggy had no filter. He couldn’t stop himself as he looked at you, wearing his shirt, spreading your legs for him. He suddenly blurted out, “Will you marry me?”

That was not what you were expecting to hear.

[nikethestatue]

Every time I see a comment like Azriel only wants Elain for sex I can't help but think how stupid these people are.  I am really tired.  Nesta knows Azriel's secret, that's the whole point.  And the secret is not that Azriel masturbates every night.  Nesta knows Azriel's feelings for Elain and consoles him. She sees the pain filling Azriel's eyes and understands it.  and this all happens in the book.  This is everything.  The distortion of such a simple truth leaves me baffled.

I dont know if you were here for the Great Who Sat By the Fire Place Debate, with actual seating plans scribbled on a napkin or something. The conclusion: Apparently Azriel's 'secret' is.............Mor.

Apparently he was suffering because of Mor. And now Nesta knows his unsecriest secret. That literally everyone in the IC and probably in the NC knows. But you know, Mor is 'Azriel's secret.'

And it's always 2 things for Azriel and 1 thing for Elain.

"He wants a sex toy"

"He doesn't want her. He wants Mor".

For Elain it's simple:

"She is a slut'

Overall diagnosis: He needs copious therapy. She is a slut who is cheating on her fiance.

Lord give me strength.

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 19

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: When one chapter becomes three. The main scenes for the next two upcoming chapters were written way back when I was struggling with chapter six. It was meant to be chapter eight but the plot got away from me a bit. This chapter started out as a little extra tidbit at the start but ended up growing into its own thing and for once I didn't delete an Izzy POV chapter.

Thank you to @fistfuloftarenths, @captainsigge, @dustdeepsea for always being my wonderful betas and providing me with encouragement. If it weren't for you all I think I would've deleted this chapter.

Dust also had the great suggestion of including the clip from Izzy's notebook and showed me how to do all the lovely formatting you will see in this chapter <3. (Check the AO3 link for that and additional footnotes as it's not in the tumblr post)

Also a shout out to @coreene for having such a treasure trove of lore on her tumblr! Always super helpful for fleshing out the background world lore.

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut.

By now rotten luck had coloured most of Isolde’s life. 

It seemed to her that it had all begun after her parents' untimely deaths when she was sixteen.

What had begun as one bad year became two, with her exile to some gods forsaken farmlands and her first heartbreak at seventeen. 

The following year had appeared to break the trend—she had been offered the position of sizar at the university where her parents once taught. Only in reality it had simply been a year spent building the framework for a truly devastating nineteenth year and an end to her academic aspirations. Her first lover came and went. First friends came and went. Corra was the only good thing to come out of her short-lived scholastic career.

The jobs had been like that too. Someone would turn traitor or stupid. Load bearing beams would give way. Priceless urns would be full of fucking venomous spiders. Only now she had been prepared for rotten luck. Moulded by it.

Now she always slipped a spare trinket under her blouse or in her boot just in case the job didn't pay. Now she kept her valuables in a safe deposit box on the off chance her room got ransacked again. Now she slept in her road breeches with a knife under her pillow, and while she'd never been trained to kill, jabbing someone who wasn't expecting it gave you a good head start on an escape. 

Seventeen years of bad luck had taught her to be prepared and to be persistent. She had survived and even sometimes thrived because of it.

So now, as she watched the sailors drag her chest up onto the deck of the ship, she felt especially stupid.

“My tools are in there! I've paid you good coin to transport those!” She screamed, but her voice could barely be heard by the man next to her over the crashing of the waves. 

The ship rocked under another violent tumult of wind. The tempest had come upon them without any warning, clear blue skies had become turbulent greys streaked in black and white in mere moments. There wasn't even supposed to be storms like this on the Sword Coast for another month. It was just her luck. 

Distantly she heard cries to cut the main sail.

The sailor looked as contrite as one could in the midst of a squall. “Sorry lass, bitch queen needs her offering!” 

And despite the pelting hail and whipping winds it was the word lass that made her flinch. 

‘Should have never gotten aboard a ship out of Neverwinter,’ she thought bitterly as she watched them tip her chest into the sea.

The contract she had taken in Baldur's Gate was an easy forgery job. She could've sat nice and safe in a room at the Elfsong scribbling away before meeting Rugan. She would've made a mint for doing hardly anything at all. But now her seals were gone and with it the contract.

Standing on the docks, Isolde weighed her options. It was alright. This was manageable. She still had the clay impressions of her fake seals in her pack. The sheep’s bladder she kept them in had protected them from any water damage from the storm. A half-way competent smith could recreate the seals from the pressings easily. But just how much would halfway decent cost her? More than she had left, it turned out. Most of her coin was now at the blacksmith's, and that was only the first half of the payment.

Her hand strayed time and again to where her insurance necklace would be, but she had pawned it. Pawned it for the same reason she had come to the city. The same reason she was flat broke. At least she could make that bastard buy her a drink. Blame him heartily for her misfortune. And if he smiled at her even once her fool heart would find the whole venture worthwhile.

“Sorry, miss, believe his caravan is on the road right now. Haven't seen him in a tenday.” The man behind the bar at the Elfsong shrugged.

It was just her rotten luck.

In weaker moments of her life she had considered leaving offerings to Beshaba at those little roadside shrines made of antlers and twigs. But no, fuck that deer-headed bitch. And fuck Umberlee too, while she was at it.

The barkeep looked apologetic, just as the sailor had, but that wasn't going to help her out in any way, shape or form.

She would need to find another job to take on. Isolde considered the other local contract she had ignored on account of the risk. There was nothing for it now. She leaned back in her stool and sighed. So long and low and frustrated that the man gave her another sympathetic look.

“Drink might help with that, miss.”

She opened her coin purse and eyed the few bits she had left.

“Give me the strongest thing you've got for two silvers.” She said sliding the coins across the table.

The man nodded and exchanged them for a pitcher of wine and a tall glass.

“If it's not a pressing issue,” he added as he poured the first glass full for her. “Could leave a letter with me if you like. He's in here every night when the caravan’s not on the road.”

Isolde perked up at that. “If you wouldn't mind.”

“Half the point of an inn is to have a place to send letters. I even mail some out if you've got a coin for the ship’s captain.”

Isolde almost took out her pen and ink right there, but then thought better of it. No sense trying to hastily scribble a note at the bar where some other patron would knock their elbows against hers and make the barman regret his offer.

Scooping up her glass and pitcher, pack slung over her shoulder, Isolde tipped her head in thanks and made for one of the alcoves at the far end of the taproom.

The Elfsong was much nicer than she had expected. The floors were worn but well-maintained, the drapes were not frayed and had minimal patching. She had been told more than once this place was a tourist trap, but when Rugan had called it his local she had presumed it to be something more akin to a dive bar. Had that been unkind of her? The Blackstaron and the Prow in Waterdeep had both been nicely kept inns, even if they had managed to get themselves kicked out of the first one.

She was broken from her train of thought when another patron collided into her, the wine from her glass sloshing over her hand.

“Sorry, love.” The man offered though he didn't even bother to meet her eyes as he and his date brushed past and grabbed the seat she had been eyeing. The date gave her a look that was half amusement, half pity, and Isolde muttered a curse under her breath as she stalked down to the next alcove.

Carefully she placed her wine down on the table, mindful of how it still undulated in its confines. With her clean hand she withdrew a rag from her pack and wet it with her waterskin, wiping clean the other before finally seating herself. 

As she unpacked her writing tools she wondered idly if this was the same seat Rugan liked to frequent. Would he have a regular seat? She should've asked the barman. No, on second thought that was a terrible idea. Isolde had seen and chosen to ignore the pitying look the man had given her when Rugan's name had slipped her lips. Didn't need to let him know how badly besotted she was, admitting it to herself was embarrassing enough.

She drained her first glass before setting pen to paper. This one was easy enough to write, and feeling a bit bold she applied a thin layer of vermillion to her lips as the ink dried. She marked the page with her lips and hoped it would make Rugan suitably unhappy about standing her up.

There was another letter she should write, though she wasn't too pleased about it. 

‘It might not be necessary.’ She tried to tell herself. 

She pulled out her leather bound notebook. It was a tiny thing, worn at the edges, about as wide and long as her hand but maybe two finger-span thick.

The contact information for the job had been hastily scribbled on one of the thick pages, just in case.

It had been Isolde's father who had taught her how to bind books, but it had been her mother who had taught her how to spot traps.

There were many things to take into account, but it came down to a few large considerations:

Was this culture known for booby-trapping tombs? Was this a place or person of importance?

An Imaskari noble would have a much more dangerous mausoleum than a Tharrian peasant.

Was there irregular wear on the ground that might suggest its builders walked a specific, safe path?

Pressure plates were a simple trap and thus effective trap. They stood the test of time better than more complex machinery.

Were there intricate patterns on the structure that could conceal glyphs?

Metal lasted long but magic lasted damn near indefinitely and could do far more damage.

One should be wary on any job, but if the answer to any of these questions was yes then doubly so.

Isolde had a similar list of tell-tale signs when it came to selecting jobs.

Was this client known to her network?

One tended to see the same familiar faces handling these operations. Sure muscle and labour would be locals, but the showrunner was usually one of two dozen folks who had the training to identify a site or the connections to fence the goods. Some characters were more trustworthy than others.

And no, the folks named here were not known to her or anyone she had asked.

Was the site near a city centre?

They oft times were—cities tended to grow on the bones of their forebears, like Luskan and Illusk. This meant more secrecy was necessary, but also less violence. Harder to hide a body and its eventual rot. Out in the wilds you didn’t even need to bury a corpse for it to never be found.

This job was definitely not near a city.

Was the pay reasonable?

Too high meant this was a con, you were lucky if you only came out empty-handed. Too low meant whoever was in charge didn’t even know what their goods were worth, if anything, and they didn’t know the running cost of a black market archaeologist.

Too low, far too low.

She had already known all this, but somehow had hoped the details might have changed since she last looked at the notebook. Isolde groaned and threw her head back against the wall of the booth. She was going to have to write the second letter.

Isolde poured and downed two more glasses of wine before she was sufficiently over her shame of having to ask Corra for money. If the forgery job was still around when she returned she’d pay Corra back two-fold.

Maybe she could just wait till Corra’s letter of credit came through, there were cheaper inns in the city, certainly. Gods, maybe a flophouse? But no, after hunting around the lower city and Norchapel it turned out Baldur’s Gate was almost as overpriced as Waterdeep.

‘Should’ve sent the letter and waited before paying for the tools.’ She thought dejectedly.

There ended up being roughly enough coin for a night or two in a flop house, some food for the road and a ride on a caravan heading west. So that was what she resolved to do.

Hopefully, stupidly, she looked for his face amongst the various caravans on the morning she made her way out of Baldur's Gate.

The wagons outside Basilisk Gate were packed end to end—or end to horse as it were. Some people pushed handcarts, perhaps to visit the nearby farms. She also saw oxen hitched to sturdy wagons loaded down with heavier goods. Merchants with lighter goods like the one she accompanied had horses to carry them along faster.

It was a decently nice carriage. Nothing fancy like the wooden conveyances that nobles used, but it had a sturdy canvas roof which was more than most.

The air by now was rank with the dung of a hundred beasts of burden, idling while their masters impatiently waited behind the traffic of a several dozen handcarts.

‘Just like Crimmor.’ She thought with an amused sort of wistfulness.

Isolde noticed then a group dressed in that familiar black and yellow, and her heart struggled to break free from the confines of her ribs. She leaned out the back of the wagon to get a better look. Though she squinted hard there was no one she was acquainted with. Just some red-head with clownish hair, though he had a familiar sort of chin.

“Don't want to be looking too long, dearie. Not a friendly bunch.” Warned the old woman across from her, not unkindly. The merchant’s mother as she understood it.

“Of course, my thanks.” Isolde bowed her head and sat back down on the wagon floor. 

They began moving at last, just as the dawn's early light was obscured by heavy soot coloured clouds. A wry smile twisted Isolde's lips.

“Something funny, dear?”

Isolde turned to meet the woman's gaze. “Just my luck, that’s all.”

[r-aindr0p]

i don’t understand French and only know a few words or phrases because of toys I had growing up(San Antonio, Tx and Oxford, Nc) but I am LIVING to see your stuff

Aa it’s always nice to know that my little french adding to shitposts are appreciated ! And you had toys that ?? Spoke French or with written stuff ?? I’m kinda curious ngl

Aight bonus info with the written word on the scribble : Cimer is simply a form of slang for Merci ! It’s a form of slang where you invert the syllables of a word (mostly word in two syllables) Idk how used it is outside of France in other french speaking areas but it has become common here, at least for a few words. Like "meuf" which is phonetically the inverted syllables of "femme" (woman) it is commonly used among younger generations (millennials and the rest after ) to more or less casually refer to a girl, mostly a random one !

[acourtofthought]

Cassian: "Elain in black was ridiculous (…), but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be a part of this court… it sucked the life from her."

IT'S SO FUNNY TO ME.

Cassian every time he sees Elain, he's like: "gurl why are you still here, you look terrible in our fashion🤣" But I'm sure she'll suit it eventually, given that she is destined to be with her tRuE mate and surely thrive in the night court, even if it sucks the life from her.

I can't help but wonder if e/riels suddenly can't read that part while furiously scribbling over it as if it's not canon text written by the one, the only, for a reason. I have not seen any of them explain what this means for their ship, but it does seem very important to adress, no?

Tell me Elain is going to get the hell out of the night court, without telling me Elain is going out get the hell out of the night court. That's what I take from it.

She's going to leave, and finally thrive, with her one (and only) mate.😊

This is such a huge line and I will be shocked if it doesn't mean what we think it means. Elain "declaring she was part of this court" followed by Cassian saying, "no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court" then adding in the fact that the life looks sucked out of her (which definitely seems to have meaning beyond the dress) seems too purposeful to ignore. In the NC, we have Feyre thinking of Elain only as a pleasant companion. We have Nesta think of Elain as a dog. And we have Nesta and Az speaking out on what Elain shouldn't be allowed to do.

With friends like that...... Right? Some claim Nesta needed to be the one to take center stage and that's why they all had to shoot Elain down and make her less important but......Elain could have just not come into the room to volunteer if that was the case. Or SJM could have chosen to leave out the scene where Az brought back up Elain having volunteered, where he said he didn't think she should be exposed to the Trove. SJM could have had Az stick up for Elain but still had Nesta shoot him down. It's clear to me that SJM wanted to reinforce the fact that the important people in her life are never going to believe in her unless she leaves to go elsewhere and proves them wrong (even though her stabbing the King, saving Briar and kicking the hounds should have been plenty). As long as she stays, they'll continue to place her in the "Elain needs protected box" and stick her on the shelf.

It shouldn't be that shocking when there are some in the fandom who want Elain to find a place where others don't treat her as less capable than the rest of the IC.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Kento Being a Cunt Teaser...

He's positioned right at your entrance, with you on all fours, however, he's being a tease. You wait, body still hoping he'll fill you then whine when he doesn't.

"Kento please..."

"Didn't you say you needed cock?" he taunts. He moves a little closer so that his tip flirts with your dripping cunt, but still refusing to push in. "You have cock. Now what are you going to do with it?" he whispers into your ear.

With a little moan, you start to lower yourself onto him, feeling your tight pussy stretch to accommodate him, creeping back on your knees to take more of you.

"There you go," he growls. "There's your cock. Now use it wisely."

With a shuddering gasp, you rock yourself forward on your hands and knees, moving along his length, the friction feeling delicious inside your pussy, against your gummy walls.

"Kento... Can you..."

"All you asked for was cock darling. I've given it to you. You never said giving you cock meant fucking you too." he grins at your desperate state.

"Now be a good girl and fuck yourself," he says tauntingly making you blush. But sexual need overwhelms you and you start sliding along his length, taking him as far in as you could then moving him out, the feeling so naughty and erotic.

The sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy then coming back out glistening with your juices was setting his teeth on edge, the need to push you into the mattress and fucking you senseless hitting him with primal need but he holds on, needing to torture you just a little longer.

[chicleeblair]

I Swim for Brighter Days |||[FFN]

Rating: NC-17/Explicit

Pairings: Meredith Grey/Derek Shepherd

Derek thought he understood how strong his wife was the day they signed the vows scribbled onto a blue Post-it. When she asks him to take her into the water for the first time since the ferryboat crash, he sees the beauty of her vulnerability.

[cchipollo]

sorry for the lack of... anything i've been doing nightmaretober.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, January 28th

WILLIAM: Yet her smell, it doth linger, painting pictures in my mind. Her eyes, balls of honey. Angels' harps her laugh. Oh, lark. Grant a sign if crook'd be Cupid's shaft. Hark, the lark, her name it hath spake. "Cecily" it discharges from twixt its wee beak. MOTHER: (proud) Oh, William.... WILLIAM: It's just...scribbling. MOTHER: Nonsense. It's magnificent.

~~Lies My Parents Told Me~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Angelus x reader by SmuttyFandomGalore (NSFW)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion, Chapter 372 by madimpossibledreamer (Ensemble, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure crossover, T)

Harry Potter and the Shell of the God-King, Chapter 7 (complete!) by JoeHundredaire (Illyria/Harry Potter, Harry Potter crossover, T)

Drive, Chapter 6 by HollyDB (Buffy/Spike, E)

Heartless, Chapter 5 by LSquared1501 (Buffy/Angel, T)

Wonderland 1: Down the Rabbit Hole, Chapter 63 by BrennaLynn (Buffy/Angel, Faith/Dawn, Star Wars crossover, T)

Sandy Places in Forever, Chapter 7 by Raihne (Xander/Spike, E)

She came back wrong, Chapter 14 by desicat (Buffy/Spike, T)

Love Unseen, Chapter 7 (complete!) by queermagic12 (Willow/Tara, E)

Supporting The Incredible Hulk (And Bruce Banner), Chapter 13 by SomeMeaninglessName (Willow, Buffy, Marvel universe crossover, T)

Come On Over, Chapter 7 by Janis70 (Buffy/Giles, M)

Called Into Darkness, Chapter 2 by desicat (Buffy/Spike, E)

Once Again, Chapter 6 by Francis_Eugene (Xander/Cordelia, G)

Drive, Chapter 6 by Holly (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

take me home, Chapte 19 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

I Do! Chapters 9 and 10 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

take me home, Chapter 17 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

I Do! Chaper 10 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: vampire!Harmony by yayemma (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy and Spike by isevery0nehereverystoned (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy/Spike by lamaraloon (worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy and Daenerys Targaryen by MiraBritArt (worksafe)

Gifset: I WAS SUPPOSED TO SWEAT YOU OUT by mcgnagallsarmy (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Gif: Spike and Drusilla by i-love-drusilla (worksafe)

Playlist: still alive. - a buffy summers playlist by ettadunham

🐴 ATS 201. Judgement 🐴 by tmtmcarlee (Angel, worksafe)

Artwork: Buffy, Willow, and Xander as Pixar. -midjourney by yazzy1233 (AI-generated, worksafe)

Artwork process video: Drawing Faith from Buffy The Vampire Slayer! Time Lapse by Starlight Archer (worksafe)

Video: Buffy the vampire Slayer / Motion Comic / #3 by VeltRose (Boom! comics)

Video: Lego Buffy - Kendra Questions Buffy's Dating Criteria by Trevor Carlee

Video: Anya’s Speech from Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Live Performance by Ashley Valigura

Fanvid: BTVS - Bad Bitches by Rachel Fox

Fanvid: First Kill x Buffy - [Love into a Weapon] - trailer music video by Fangtazya (Buffy/Angel)

Fanvid: Buffy and Spike - Everybody's Fool by T

Fanvid: Spike and Buffy | Wicked Game [Buffy the Vampire Slayer] Their Full Story by HdEditsAM

Fanvid: Spike | Bones by lozzycreation z

Video: BTVS || I'M A SLAYER. ASK ME HOW ||HUMOR by ZNellyZ

Slideshow: Buffy The Vampire Slayer but it's Synthwave by Polyphonic Paul (AI-generated)

Slideshow: Buffy The Vampire Slayer as an 80's Dark Fantasy Film by Doon Valley (AI-generated)

Slideshow: Buffy the Vampire Slayer as an 80s Dark Fantasy Film by Uncanny Rabbit (AI-generated)

[Reviews & Recaps]

BtVS Rewatch - Season 7 : part 2 of the Storyteller review by PuckRobin

Podcast: What if Buffy was the last vampire slayer in 30... by Dear Watchers: a comic book omniverse podcast(focuses on The Last Vampire Slayer from Boom! comics but also about Buffy and Buffy comics in general)

Video: My thoughts on Buffy The Vampire Slayer Season 1 by Retro Bros Podcast

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 2 - How Angelus and Spike Perfected Whedon's Vampire Philosophy by Pop Culture Patrician

Podcast: Episode 90: Real Me by Myth Taken: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Podcast

[Recs]

Rec: Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fan Magazine - Faith Lehane Poster designed and sold by azulascreech recced by juanabaloo

[Fandom Discussions]

This part of This Year’s Girl killed me by catastrophic-bi-tch

Both 2x06 halloween and 2x07 Lie to Me open with Buffy walking in on Angel talking to another woman by herinsectreflection

Spike being the harbinger of The First by williamthebloodied

The late 90s fashion is a vital part of Buffy by wolfstrong

Anya is older than all the members of the Fanged four combined by neurodivergentdisaster

The First Evil and Pride continued by Nothing13

Top 25 BtVS Episodes by Holden Norgorov

Angel Podcasts by Puzzleheaded-Ad-2644

S5 Wesley pre Illyria … Angry Man child ? by Fanficwriter777

There’s one thing that puzzles me about Amends (S3E10) by Seer77887

Unrequited [Buffy's ILY to Spike] by Civil-Tax-2923

"Becoming" is the ultimate Buffy finale for me by jdpm1991

Who Was The Smartest Big Bad? by AsterialPuppet

Which one-off 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙡 𝙗𝙖𝙙 would’ve made the best 𝘽𝙄𝙂 𝘽𝘼𝘿 ? by AsterialPuppeAsterialPuppet

Season 7 Giles was not bad writting by CathanCrowell

Recasting Buffy Season 2 by SeriouslyNotSerious2

Theology of Buffy by Ajacentmagic

I think I figured out why Buffy didn't get a salary by BookerTea3

Would the Initiative have figured it out without Jonathan [in Superstar]? by BPD-and-lipstick

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

[krysmcscience]

Followers, feel free to ignore this, it's not art or writing or even really anything interesting.

If you clicked in, anyway, it is also not aimed at any of my IRL friends or followers (unless one of my followers is not who they claim to be, I guess?). Anyway, it's literally just venting bullshit. Feel free to click back out, there aren't even any details that could lead you back to anyone involved.

It's wild that I spent six months talking on and off with someone who turned out to believe that a few months of miscommunication and poorly set boundaries, followed by some arguments and disagreements about it, all interspersed with private IRL venting is a reason to blow up several friendships and go on a warpath. Like. Bruh. Sometimes people tell white lies to be polite. Sometimes people change their minds about stuff with new information. Sometimes people learn new things about what upsets them. And sometimes people vent in private about things that bother them about someone else (friends included). That doesn't mean they're actively plotting to do harm, or two-faced, or back-stabbing, or the worst thing ever in existence. This is. Literally just how humans socialize??? In reality??? Sometimes you just accidentally hurt one another, accept that mistakes were made, and make up afterward so you don't wind up abysmally lonely!

Loved looking through all their "receipts" of all the "wrong" that was done and being like, dang, most of this just looks like standard boring clashes between friends that could easily be mitigated with healthy communication, actually??? Along with a bunch of words exchanged by two people who blew up on each other and now clearly don't want to talk anymore??? And yet they've posited it like it's some huge "gotcha", with scribbled commentary mixed in on the side, as if their ex friend is a True Monster rather than a normal person who makes mistakes. JFC, it's just demented. (And, in standard form, it's all cherrypicked! No real context aside from their own narrative and warped perception! And no admissions of their own wrongdoing! They even lied about not being into NC/SA despite drawing so much horny shit for it! I mean, I knew it would pan out this way, but good gravy, the lack of awareness there??? Unreal.)

Also apparently they don't realize that constructive conversations about some things they have grievances with can and do happen without them being or needing to be told about it, either, because all of the actual wrongs they had receipts for were genuine mistakes or newly realized hard boundaries that have either already been addressed or are being addressed IRL. Although, them posting those actual wrongs definitely violated a very hard boundary set in place by another person on the sidelines who didn't even want to be involved, so, hmm, that's fun.

Very telling in the end that they couldn't respect all the blocks put in place. But of course, it's only okay if they trample on boundaries. Clearly only their boundaries and desperate need for validation and attention matter. Also very telling that they tried to air all their shit out publicly despite everyone else involved staying almost completely silent about it and otherwise keeping it fully anonymous. But of course, it's only okay if they disrespect other people. Clearly that makes it okay to drag in unrelated parties who never asked or cared to be involved and just wanted to have some nice relaxing internet time. Also very telling that they ignored the very simple fact that they and I were mutuals (up until literally three days ago), and thus their shittalking kept winding up on my dashboard, which I initially tolerated (until they got usernames and then me involved) because people are allowed to be hurt and vent about it even if I disagree with their takes on what happened. But of course, they're not ever allowed to be wrong. Clearly I must be a weird creepy lurker, instead, who never does any self reflection despite having actual diagnosed social anxiety that forces me to question my every last action.

If the person in question happens to be reading, follow your own fucking advice, quit Actually Lurking, and get help. Proper help, because if you're seeing a therapist already, clearly they can't cotton on to how you go to extreme lengths to avoid revealing anything that might reflect negatively on you, which explains why your cherrypicked receipts still have none of the hateful screaming of yours that I personally read, or any of the really callous things you wrote in your tags after the fact. I'm willing to bet you're over there patting yourself on the back thinking your target stepped in it by deleting those comments, too, because that's just how you are, but here's a reality check: You took it too far. You put up your private conversations with their spouse for anyone to see, despite that you definitely did not have permission to do that from said spouse, Your Actual Friend, who would NOT want that shit online under ANY circumstances. I don't even need to ask to be sure about that, either. And you should know exactly why what you chose to do is a problem.

Oh, and here's another fun reality check: If you can't figure out the bare basics of even the simplest character (and you can't, this has been established, I literally had to spell out an obvious homophobic dog whistle for you), what makes you think you're qualified to assess and diagnose an actual living person who is infinitely more complicated than a fictional character? Because if you actually think you are, you are quite literally delusional. You are not living in the same reality as everyone else. You know all of the words, yet none of their substance.

Now go away. I made it very clear that you are not welcome anywhere in my life the moment I blocked you. You've willfully spat in the face of my honest attempts to help you, and successfully burned all bridges with me, so I want nothing more to do with you. Look upon your scorched earth and enjoy the smoke you've gained from it.

[tinygmusic]

NIKI RELEASES NEW ALBUM 'BUZZ' & SHARES TITLE TRACK MV

Rosa Gulliver of TINYGMUSIC | 9th August 2024

Jakarta-born, LA-based singer-songwriter and producer NIKI firmly plants herself as one of the most dynamic artists of today with the release of her new album Buzz via 88rising, out now. Accompanying the release is the music video for title track “Buzz,” directed by Isaac Ravishankara. The video, a cheeky line-by-line depiction of the lyrics, encapsulates the rush of raw emotion and bittersweet nerves of a budding romance – glimpses of buzzing bees, a crackling guitar amp, and longing looks between two people, all signaling towards the start of something new. NIKI was initially inspired to name the record after the budding growth she observed in her garden every spring. Across thirteen tracks on the album, the singer encapsulates the feeling of being on the precipice of something undiscovered.

The album’s release joins previous singles; the love struck summer track, “Tsunami,” astrologically-inspired song “Blue Moon,” and flirty lead single “Too Much of a Good Thing.” NIKI plans to celebrate Buzz with a comprehensive world tour, produced by Live Nation, kicking off this fall. Tickets are available now HERE. See below for full routing.

 

NORTH AMERICA

Sep 5, 2024 - Toronto ON - Budweiser Stage

Sep 7, 2024 - Boston MA - MGM Music Hall at Fenway

Sep 8, 2024 - Washington DC - The Anthem

Sep 12, 2024 - Philadelphia PA - The Met

Sep 13, 2024 - New York City NY - SummerStage in Central Park

Sep 16, 2024 - Charlotte NC - Skyla Credit Union Amphitheatre

Sep 17, 2024 - Atlanta GA - Coca-Cola Roxy

Sep 19, 2024 - Houston TX - 713 Music Hall

Sep 20, 2024 - Austin TX - Moody Amphitheater

Sep 21, 2024 - Dallas TX - The Pavilion at Toyota Music Factory

Sep 25, 2024 - Chicago IL - Byline Bank Aragon Ballroom

Sep 27, 2024 - Minneapolis MN - The Armory

Sep 29, 2024 - Denver CO - Fillmore Auditorium

Oct 1, 2024 - Salt Lake City UT - The Union Event Center

Oct 3, 2024 - Berkeley CA - The Greek Theatre *

Oct 8, 2024 - Phoenix AZ - Arizona Financial Theatre

Oct 10, 2024 - Las Vegas NV - The Chelsea at the Cosmopolitan

Oct 11, 2024 - Los Angeles CA - The Greek Theatre

Oct 12, 2024 - Los Angeles CA - The Greek Theatre

Oct 14, 2024 - San Diego CA - Cal Coast Credit Union Open Air Theatre

Oct 17, 2024 - Portland OR - Alaska Airlines’ Theater of the Clouds

Oct 18, 2024 - Seattle WA - WAMU Theater at Lumen Field

Oct 19, 2024 - Vancouver BC - Rogers Arena

 

* Non-Live Nation Date

 

EUROPE

Oct 27, 2024 - Brussels BE - La Madeleine

Oct 29, 2024 - Cologne DE - Palladium

Nov 1, 2024 - Paris FR - L’Olympia

Nov 2, 2024 - Tilburg NL - Poppodium 013

Nov 6, 2024 - Manchester UK - O2 Apollo Manchester

Nov 7, 2024 - London UK - OVO Arena, Wembley

Nov 10, 2024 - Dublin IE - 3Olympia Theatre

 

ASIA

Feb 9, 2025 - Hong Kong

Feb 11, 2025 - Manila

Feb 12, 2025 - Manila

Feb 14, 2025 - Jakarta

Feb 15, 2025 - Jakarta

Feb 18, 2025 - Singapore

Feb 20, 2025 - Taipei

Feb 22, 2025 - Bangkok

Feb 25, 2025 - Kuala Lumpur

Feb 26, 2025 - Kuala Lumpur

 

AUSTRALIA & NEW ZEALAND

Mar 5, 2025 - Perth AU

Mar 7, 2025 - Brisbane AU

Mar 9, 2025 - Sydney AU

Mar 13, 2025 - Melbourne AU

Mar 15, 2025 - Auckland NZ

 

What eventually became Buzz, the third studio album by singer-songwriter and globally-renowned star NIKI, started with an urgent quake from the innermost core of her being. What surfaced in its wake was a collection of warm, stirring folk-rock songs, which crackle and flare like a bonfire between close confidantes. “I went through an identity crisis,” says the 25-year-old of Buzz. “It took a lot of trial and error, and I just stumbled upon pieces of myself along the way. I named it Buzz because it feels like I'm on the precipice of something about to happen.”

 

For NIKI, things have been happening progressively since she was a high schooler in Jakarta, Indonesia. As a student at an international academy, she cut her teeth scribbling lovesick poems in English class and performed acoustic guitar covers of American pop songs on YouTube. With a six-string in hand, and her family and classmates cheering her on from the audience, Nicole Zefanya then staked her claim to global stardom as NIKI.

 

And claim it she has - with over three billion streams worldwide, sold out shows on multiple continents, massive sets at festivals across the globe, front row seats at Paris Fashion Week, four songs on a Marvel film’s soundtrack, and some of the most phenomenal, confessional songs being released in 2024, NIKI has already established a veteran’s resume before the age of 25.

NIKI - Photo Credit: Annie Lai

On Buzz, her songwriting remains as intimate as ever. In her initial sketches of songs for Buzz, NIKI took cues from other lane-paving women with confessional, honest lyricism soundtracked by guitars.  “Joni Mitchell is my songwriting north star,” she says — and uncompromising feminist luminaries like Stevie Nicks, Carly Simon and Liz Phair. To match the wandering spirit of Buzz, NIKI cultivated her own elastic approach to guitar.

 

To further harness this creative and personal sea change, NIKI began enlisting producers who had worked with her favourite contemporary singer-songwriters. She tapped Tyler Chester, who’d captured tracks with Madison Cunningham and Sara Bareilles; she also recruited Ethan Gruska, who counts Fiona Apple and Phoebe Bridgers as collaborators.

Buzz reverberates with the hard-earned wisdom of a young woman who charges dauntlessly towards her dreams — but can still spare a laugh if she stumbles.

About NIKI

NIKI born Nicole Zefanya on January 24 1999, is an Indonesian singer-songwriter. She is currently based in the United States and signed with the record label 88rising. She released her first full-length studio album, Moonchild, in 2020. It was followed by Nicole (2022) and recently Buzz (2024). Her debut headlining concert tour, Nicole World Tour (2022–2023), visited over 40 cities across North America, Asia, Australia, and Europe.

NIKI has garnered global recognition for her songwriting and musicianship and is among the most popular female artists from Indonesia. In 2020, NIKI was listed among Forbes 30 Under 30 Asia.

About 88rising

88rising, stylised as 88⬆, is an American record label established in 2015, known as a multifaceted entity combining management, record label functions, video production, and marketing.

The label has risen to prominence as a music platform and record label, especially for Asian American artists, and has been dubbed "The Disney of Asian hip-hop." In 2019, 88rising earned the title of Label of the Year from Netease, a major music streaming service in China.

In 2018, 88rising launched its inaugural Head in the Clouds Festival in Los Angeles, which Billboard promptly recognized as "the Asian Festival You Need To Know."

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