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#I TOLD Y’ALL HE IS

writingsbychlo · 1 year

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thinking about getting up for work and azriel lay beside me with his arm around my waist, sleepy and rough voice, “jus’ call in sick. stay here n’ cuddle me all day.”

#n that’s the needy obsessed part of soft dom az showing through #I TOLD Y’ALL HE IS #he’s just obsessed with his girl #and i want that to be MEEEEE AHHH #today is not the day ladies

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skele-ghost · 8 months

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Fuck in the Graveyard (not really)

Summary: (Graves/Reader) You’ve been taking illegal suppressants for wayyy too long, and when you miss a dose, it all comes crashing down.

Content Warning: A/B/O Omegaverse dynamics, reader is afab, female pronouns?, substance abuse, technically is a fuck or die situation, p in v, knotting, brief fingering

Graves is kinda sweet in this one. I’ve never posted my stuff anywhere before and this is the first fic I’ve written in second person. Let me know what y’all think. I do not take requests.

(*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

The thing about taking illegal suppressants is that you have to time them perfectly. You’d better have your cycle down to a science, and you’d better take them three days before your heat, during, and three days after—and don’t you dare take them any more than 24 hours apart.

That’s how you wound up completely fucked: you took one dose two hours too late, and now the suppressants were completely ineffective. Was it really your fault? No, you’d been in the middle of a firefight, for fucks sake! But by some sick case of luck and science that made next to no sense, your heat started to build.

You hid being an Omega as much as you could. It wasn’t exactly a secret—it was there in your file for anyone to see. But so long as your heats were taken care of and you weren’t sending every Alpha within a mile radius into a rut, the military was happy.

And you were happy to let them believe that you were taking the regular course of suppressants that they prescribed you, and not the dangerous, high-dose, illegal ones that you preferred. They made your scent next to undetectable and made sure you could actually think straight when you were suppressing your heat, unlike the regular ones.

You were a specialist, an asset of high importance, and you’d be damned if you’d let your own biology stand in the way of that.

That’s why you liked the Shadows. Graves sent you a job offer after working with you on a mission gone sour in Urzikstan. He admired the way you kept your head cool when the world was falling apart around you. Even when you disclosed your designation, he shrugged it off.

“As long as you can keep your head cool like you did out there, we won’t have any problems,” he’d said.

And you’d kept your promise for nearly two years, now. But that was a long time to go without a heat, and a long time to be surrounded by the heady scent of Alpha unclaimed.

You were ashamed of the way you had to take off earlier. Once everyone was back from the mission, in one piece, settled in, you bolted, feeling the heat and sweat cling to you like a second skin.

It was sheer resolve that allowed you to keep the scent patches on for so long, little bandages clamped over your glands with a strong deodorizer, not letting anything out. You nearly passed out from the intense pain of prying them off your neck and wrists, the scent glands over-sensitive to even a breeze.

You blink away the tears quickly; you have to stay focused. You’ll drive to the safe house and crash there, get something planned. You knew the consequences of completely suppressing your heat for so long with such toxic drugs. Now you had to live with the consequences.

The little white farmhouse is remote, nestled deep in an old growth wood. It was beautiful, living up to the pictures you’d seen when Graves had shown it to you as a precaution. It had been in his family for generations before he fixed it up and decided to turn it into a safe house.

You pant as you put the car in park, staring at the building for a moment, your thoughts jumbled and disconjointed. As much as you want to melt into the seat, you have to get inside. A cold shower—that’s what you promise yourself, meek little motivation.

It manages to pull you out of the truck, onto shaky legs that want to collapse underneath you, but you push on.

They key is behind a brick on the foundation beneath the porch. It takes you a moment to remember which one—Graves had only shown you once.

Since you are the only unclaimed omega in the Shadows, he told you where the house was and how to access it. Just in case you had, in his words, “omega-related problems.” It isn’t too far from base. You’d have to figure out some way to show your eternal gratitude for the man…if you ever saw him again.

You retrieve the key and turn to make your way up the stairs, and that’s when things go sideways. You trip on the last step, crashing onto the porch with a force that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

The key falling out of your hand is the last coherent thought that you have before the pain takes over. Your sensitive skin and muscles cry out and it feels like hitting a sore bruise, everywhere.

You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the watery image of the porch’s ceiling. There’s a wasp’s nest, gross, but it’s November. They’re either sleeping or dead from the cold.

And thank god it’s cold, because at least your skin doesn’t feel like it’s completely on fire.

You know this is bad. You’ve deteriorated too quickly, the heat sneaking up and hitting you like a blitz attack from the dark.

As much as you hate to admit it, heats are necessary. It gets rid of built-up chemicals in the brain, provides a release to make new ones. Not quite like sleep was necessary, but in a similar fashion.

You’re worried that this one might kill you. You’re worried that if this one isn’t quelled and satisfied, you might end up brain-dead or in an eternal coma like the people in those stories your middle school health class scared you with.

But in the face of death? All that you wish is that you could apologize for the inconvenience. What kind of paperwork would Graves have to fill out for your corpse? Would he get in trouble for not monitoring you, for not knowing about your use of the illegal suppressants?

You slip into unconsciousness, the word ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue.

A whimper is all you manage as you stir awake, the first thing you notice being the thick, heavy, intoxicating scent of an Alpha, and one you know.

Graves smells like bonfires and bourbon, or maybe it’s whiskey? You make a breathy moan at the smell, brows furrowing as you feel yourself being carried.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, his voice making a nice rumble trail down your spine.

He’s holding you bridal style and then holds you close to him as he sits down, tucking your head into his neck so that you can scent him.

It cools the flames slightly, letting your mind clear itself of the fog as you finally stir, opening your eyes.

“Com-mander?” You ask, voice not much louder than a whisper.

He pulls you back, glancing down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern. “(Y/N), what’s going on? You don’t smell right, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Suppressants…not working,” you grit out, whimpering as an uncomfortable cramp begins in your gut.

“The ones you’ve been taking? Why, what’s wrong with them?” He lays you down on the bed he’d been sitting on and you whine at the loss of contact, squinting your eyes shut at the cramping.

You can hear him search through your bag, the one that had been digging painfully into your back a few minutes ago, and you hear the rattle of a pill bottle.

“Oh, (Y/N), you didn’t…” he says, and you can only imagine what his expression is as he looks at the bottle. It’s pretty damning—the prescription bottle with someone else’s name blacked out on it, half empty, label reading exactly what’s inside.

Graves returns to your side, his cool hand on your cheek turning you to look up at him. He looks…betrayed? Crestfallen? Worried, above all else, as he holds the bottle up with one hand.

“(Y/N), tell me you didn’t take these—tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he demands, the command in his tone making a gush of slick escape you, adding to your already soaked panties.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper, tears blurring up along your waterline.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he growls, tossing the pills onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. “What do I do? You need to go to a hospital, is that it?”

You shake your head, “no, they can’t do anything. And I’d get arrested—ah!” You cry out, curling inwards as a sharp, painful cramp rolls through. Slick gushes out of you again, your organs overproducing as if they need to make up for all the missed heats. After a few agonizing moments it calms down and leaves you gasping, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You know what your options are, you know how fucked up this is, and you know that Graves is probably going to fire you after this—but you also know that you’re not ready for the final alternative.

“Please, it hurts!” You beg, pleading up at the sight of your commander above you, “please, Alpha.”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, pursing his lips in that way you’ve always found so hot, “are you sure? You’re not thinking clearly, (Y/N).”

You nod frantically, grabbing his arm and scenting his wrist, keening at the smell, “please, please, Graves.”

His restraint snaps and he climbs ontop of you, pinning your wrists to the bed and placing his mouth on yours. You moan into it, trying to lift you hips up to get some kind of friction to no avail.

He pulls away and you tilt you head aside to give him better access to your neck as he scents you, breathing in deeply and growling. You cry out as he runs his tongue and teeth along the glands.

“I never got a good smell of you, (Y/N), you always wear those damn patches and I always want to rip them off,” he nibbles along your jaw, your whines and whimpers filling the small bedroom.

“Alpha, please,” you beg, desperate, clenching around nothing when you want to be clenching around him. “Inside, please put it inside.”

“I know, baby,” he says, pecking your lips again before he pulls back, hands gliding along your sides as he pulls your shirt off. “You’re burning up.”

Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you squirm, whining and babbling as he pulls your bra off, too. The cooler air feels nice on your sweat-sheen skin, and you buck your hips as Graves gets off of you, hooking his fingers to pull your pants and panties down in one fell swoop.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, then groans at the sight of your slick, how it clings to your parties in wet strings before he pulls them away.

Your boots are still on and he didn’t get your pants all the way off, but maybe seeing how soaked you are makes Graves hasty.

The most pornographic moan escapes you as he sinks two fingers in your hole, your sweet little cunt sucking them in and clenching down.

“Fuck, good Omega,” Graves groans, slipping in a third finger that has you moaning even louder.

Every spot he hits is the right one, every move pure ecstasy. Your voice is a broken babble of pleads and curses and moans, begging for your commander to fuck you, to take you, to make you his.

You almost sob when he retracts his fingers, not even caring to wipe them as he rolls you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up into the air, right against his own.

Feeling his erection against your ass, you turn downright frantic, “please please please, please fuck me, Alpha, please I need your knot so bad!”

He hisses as you rub against him and he begins unbuckling his belt, which only spurs you on more. He manages to still your hips and get his pants down, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.

You keen embarrassingly loud as he enters you, slowly letting every inch of himself be swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

When he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, it’s like a switch flips. You cum, whining as your legs shake, as Graves gasps behind you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he drawls, squeezing into the meat of your hips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

Your brain is too melted with lust to be able to form any coherent sentence. When he pulls out and slowly thrusts back into you, testing the waters, you all but go limp, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan.

“Goooood girl,” he praises, speeding up his thrusts and finding a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together. “So slick and tight for me, omega, good god—“

All you can do is moan and take it. There’s no more painful cramping, and though your skin is still hot it’s not as bad. Your body is getting exactly what it needs: a good, hard fucking by a big, strong Alpha.

“(Y/N),” Graves moans, his voice sounding so sweet to your ears, “so good, baby. Better than I ever imagined.”

You keen at that, at your alpha wanting you—well, he isn’t yours, is he? It makes your heart sting slightly but that’s quickly forgotten with a slap to your ass, sending shockwaves of excitement through you.

You can feel yourself getting tighter, getting ready to be thrown over the edge again, and you can feel Graves speed up his thrusts, his knot slowly beginning to swell inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gonna give you my knot, gonna fill you up good—“

His thrusts get even harder, even rougher, and you cry out, feeling yourself come tumbling violently over the edge as his knot catches on you, cumming in waves like the sea crashes onto shore.

Graves stills inside you, making good on his promise, shooting ropes and ropes of hot seed. You can feel his swollen knot inside you, just past your entrance, making your pussy full in the most delicious way. You hear him catch his breath before he carefully rolls you both over onto your sides, laying down with you on the bed.

You hum happily as he wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder as both of your ragged breathing calms.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, his voice husky in a way that makes you wish you were his.

“Yeah,” you manage to reply, running your hands along the arms that hold you.

“I don’t want you taking those damn pills ever again,” he growls, making you shiver. “Understand?”

You open your eyes and turn to look at him, confused at the soft expression on his face. It’s almost…vulnerable? Wasn’t he going to fire you?

“Commander?”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he says. Behind his blue eyes is a fire you know well, akin to the one that dances in his eyes on the battlefield. “I’ll drug test you if I have to, but I’m not going to lose you to some stupid suppressants.”

You blink. “You’re not going to fire me?”

“What? No,” he says like you’re crazy for thinking so. “But if you want to stay, darlin,’ we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

“Okay,” you agree, relieved. You didn’t want to lose your job, it’s a good gig. The employee benefits are killer…and you’d miss your commander.

“It’s simple, (Y/N), no more illegal suppressants, and you come to me for your heats,” that bastard smirk of his returns and you giggle.

“Are you propositioning me, Commander?”

“Hell, yes I am,” he says proudly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Probably should’ve done it sooner.”

You lean in and kiss him, enjoying how it sweetens his scent. Your heart flutters in place, content, elated; you had only ever dreamed of this. You finally have him.

“Oh, and no more scent patches. You smell too damn good to be covered up.”

You roll your eyes at him, still grinning. “You sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like every other alpha sniffing after me.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you safe,” he says confidently, placing a lingering kiss to your cheek. His eyes hint at something darker, “besides… they’ll catch on.”

#phillip graves #Phillip graves/reader #Graves/Reader #graves x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x y/n #shadow company #have I ever told y’all how much I hate the name phillip #honestly it’s a turn off ngl #but graves is cute even if he is a war criminal <3 #cod omegaverse #a/b/o #omega reader #alpha!graves

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iovealexivs · 4 months

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it is actually fucking unreal how many people miss the signs of abuse and think gabe is any less of a shithead in the pjo show and think he’s less deserving of his ending.

you all need to do some thinking and educate yourselves on what abuse looks like. while physical domestic violence is common it is not the only form of abuse, and people responsible for DV are often very good at covering their tracks to everyone else, sometimes even including victims, which makes it harder to leave. they could be charismatic and respectful, or even just some deadbeat leeching off of another full grown adult that doesn’t seem “that” awful. not all abuse is obvious, or physical, at first glance unless you’ve lived it or know the signs. people like this, ignoring glaring obvious signs in this case, are showing the same mentality as the CPS agents that let children, including my best friend, die because they didn’t see a parent as “abusive” until it was too late just because physical needs were met (sometimes just barely) and the child wasn’t getting beaten.

stop downplaying abuse. he clearly has a emotional hold over sally (and financial, and maybe physical, if they stay true to when percy finds out about that towards the end of the book). that’s still pretty traumatic, coming from someone who’s experienced that and has CPTSD from it. the show doesn’t invalidate survivors of physical abuse or downplay what an awful person Gabe is because it’s showing another form. it isn’t erasure of DV. please. PLEASE educate yourselves. this is scary.

given what we know about medusa now and her experience with being manipulated and whatnot it would make even better sense for sally to kill him.

#like did y’all fucking ignore what the plumber told percy before he stepped foot in the apartment???#mine #pjo tv show #idk if i’ve fully rented about this but i will probably not be done unless i see this god awful take die with gabe #gabe ugliano #sally jackson #percy jackson

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autism-alley · 3 months

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y’all headcanoning poseidon as purposefully sending medusa’s head back to sender knowing gabe would open it is like. entirely missing the point of sally jackson’s character and also SO fucked up if it was poseidon?? who used medusa’s head to kill an asshole man?? like!! what the fuck! not to mention sally jackson?? ms. sally jackson? who kills her abusive husband? who on multiple occasions rejected the help of the man who is both a god and her former lover bc she wants to build her life herself—? and who does it? “if my life is to mean anything, i have to live it myself.” those are sally jackson’s words. the abuse itself was already incredibly watered down in the show and that is upsetting. to have gabe accidentally kill himself because he’s a bumbling idiot waters down her agency against her abuse and is even more so upsetting. to have not just a man but a literal god kill her husband for her is so. do you not see how that’s even worse. and then add in that god being poseidon and the method of murder is medusa’s head? i don’t even have words to articulate it, just—

no matter how you cut it, narratively you only disrespect and degrade sally when gabe’s life is taken by any hand that isn’t hers, and having that hand be poseidon’s is just wild.

#WIIIIIILD TAKE #and i don’t even think some of y’all are hearing yourselves #sally jackson herself told percy he cannot kill her abuser for her #that her life only has value if it’s in her own hands #and that was said to her CHILD who Also suffered at the hands of gabe.#can you imagine how it looks disregarding that sentiment so a literal god can save her?#the god partly responsible to blame for medusa’s fate in the first place?#sometimes depicted as her rapist?#doesn’t look good!#as a disabled woman i am all for needing to be saved #wanting to be saved #not feeling shame in needing help #but sally jackson is not only Not one of those people #but someone who shaped so much of her identity around saving herself #how dare the show take it from her.#and for fans to rub salt in the wound?#i know y’all don’t mean it like that that’s why i’m not angry #but i want y’all to rly consider what you’re saying #pjo show crit #pjo show #pjo fandom #percy jackson #sally jackson #poseidon pjo #medusa pjo #ris raves #gabe ugliano

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russilton · 1 month

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ITS OFFICIAL: FIA has ruled it a brake test and after two and a half hours of deliberation put Alonso at fault of George’s crash

The penalty drops him to 8th, and he has also received 3 penalty points on his liscense

#australian gp 2024 #george russell #anti alonso #fuck that man I told y’all #and if the fia were proper they’d give him a next race grid penalty #but I’ll take it #will he apologise for it? hahahahaha no

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slamminslamminmcgill · 3 months

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i can only support from the shadows but as an SA survivor please DO write about joel killing your rapists it would cure me

LETS GOOOO SA survivors eating good tn!!!! we making it out the rape kit with this one 🥵🥵🥵

warning: descriptions of sexual assault, rape kits, non-consensual drugging, police malpractice/incompetence, victim-blaming, arson, and spanking. one single use of the f slur for shits and giggles. reader is male and joel’s roommate. reader’s assailant is male.

"So, the next morning I..."

You sniffled as you relayed your trauma to Joel. He wondered why you'd tensed up anytime anyone even uttered the word 'FEDRA'. You’d said it was a bad experience. He’d said that doesn’t really narrow it down much, so you gave him the full story.

“I got the rape-“ You cleared your throat, that word burning your vocal cords like an acid, “got the rape kit done at the clinic… And I asked for a drug test, so that I’d… that I could prove he slipped me something… Nurse was good, she was nice… She gave me the release of evidence form to give to FEDRA’s law enforcement precinct… but they didn’t… they didn’t take it…”

“What?” Joel’s face was contorted in shock, then a scowl of disgust and rage on your behalf. “The hell you mean they didn’t take it?”

“They didn’t believe me. Said it was my *sniff*… my f-f-fault for meeting up with him in the first place…” You had your eyes down, staring off into space, speaking more to Joel’s shoes than to his face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now. You just know it’d make you burst into tears, tears that you were struggling so hard to contain. “I told them he drugged me… and they said… ‘H-How do I know you didn’t take the drugs before you got there?’”

“Fucking pigs…” Joel grumbled, “…so they just put the blame on you and let him get away with it?”

You nodded. Eventually, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your tears flooded the dam, spilling down your cheeks and onto the floorboards with one lone loud sob. Your hands clamped over your mouth, a makeshift plug for the vocal leak. Your body convulsed with sorrow.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay… You’re okay, bud…” Joel cooed as he took you in his arms, squeezing you tight enough for the facade to pop and your emotions to rush out in full. He held you to his chest and let you scream-cry into his clothes. You didn’t have to look at him, you could just let it out, eyes closed, your face buried in his flannel shirt. “It’s okay, little man. I’m here. I’m here.” He stroked your hair to calm you down, and sighed “We’re gonna make this right, you ‘n’ me…”

“H-How?”

How indeed. Joel’s eyes scanned the room for an answer, until they landed on his lackluster liquor cabinet. 2 shelves, on top: one nice bottle of scotch, about 3/4ths of the way full; on the bottom, about 12 cheap-shit bottles of moonshine. He broke the hug, hustled over to the shelves, and grabbed 4 bottles. He set them on the kitchen table, but not before peeling off the ratty-ass tablecloth that sat atop it. He grabbed it by one of its pre-existing rips, tore it into strips, and plugged the bottles with the cloth. Without even looking back over his shoulder, he commanded of you the following:

“Go grab your lighter.”

—

Thank god you’d had your panic attack when it was dark outside. There were only a couple of hogs working the night shift at the Boston QZ North Pigpen Precinct by the time you two rolled up to bike lock the doors. You’d split up to take the back entrance, while Joel hit it from the front. Then, you met around the side of the building, crouching under a window. He was holding a brick, and you were digging 2 molotovs out of a backpack.

“Alright. Now you’re gonna light ‘em, then I break the window. You throw ‘em in, and we fuckin’ run ‘til I say we can stop. You got that?”

How Joel managed to look so hot even in a ski mask was beyond human understanding. No one’s ever cared this much for you, ever been willing to risk so much for you, and who knew that arson was such an aphrodisiac? You’d been gazing faggily into his eyes, thinking about how hard you were gonna suck his dick after this. It’s the least you could do for him. You were processing such a vivid picture of the rough and nasty catharsis-fucking that you were due later, it was using up all your mental bandwidth. Therefore, his question took some time to buffer. “…What? Oh! Yeah, yup, got it. Sorry.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then tell me what we’re gonna do.”

“I light the bottles, brick goes through the window, bottles go through the window, and we run.”

Joel was actually pleasantly surprised that you were listening. “Okay, good.” He gestured to your hand holding the lighter. “Go on, do it, light ‘em up.”

One flick of the lighter, two burning strips of fabric, and three throws later, Joel grabbed you by the wrist and bolted down the street with you. No words, no time to think, just a mad fucking dash for a couple blocks or so. Eventually, he stopped you in another dark alley.

“Here’s good… Fuck…” Joel panted, bracing his hand on the nearest wall. “Ah, shit…”

“You good?” you asked.

“Yeah, ‘m fine… Fuckin’ knees,” he huffed, “Don’t get old, kid.”

You snorted, “I, uh… I don’t think that’s up to me.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel took one last deep breath, nudged you on the shoulder, “Hey,” and pointed out to the street. “Watch.”

You peered out past the alley, checking the left side first and keeping yourself mostly hidden behind the brick wall. You weren’t even sure where you were supposed to be looking, until-

BOOM!

Your head whipped around to the other side of the alley, where several blocks down, the precinct erupted into flames. A dark cloud of smoke suddenly draped the side of the building like a ceremonial cloth, smelling like incense lit by burning rage. It was prettier than any firework show you could imagine. The flames roared, sizzling away your trauma, your anger, and cauterizing your wounded spirit so that it could finally heal. You took off your ski mask to get a better look.

“Pretty, right?” Joel’s voice sounded from behind you seemingly out of nowhere. It made you jump out of your skin, snapping you out of your daze and into a new one when he peeled off his mask to show off such a gorgeous face. His expression was nurturing, cut with affection, pride, and yet laced with a lethal dose of violence. Yeah, Joel, you’re right. You sure are pretty. That’s definitely what we’re thinking about right now. You were left speechless, and simply nodded.

“Y’alright, kid?”

You nodded again, tripping over all your words as they tumbled out your mouth. “Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Thanks- Thank you… Thank you.”

“You remember where he lives?”

“Huh?” You cocked your head in confusion. “Where who lives?”

“Y’know… The guy who actually…” Joel pursed his lips, trying to find the most delicate word for the situation. “…violated you.”

“Oh!” You hopped up with an unexpected enthusiasm. Truth be told, you were so hyped up in the beauty of the blazing pigpen, that you’d forgotten FEDRA was only half the problem. They weren’t even the original offenders; they just shat the bed so badly that they managed to take the heat off your actual rapist. “Yeah! Yeah, I remember… I know where he lives.”

“Good. He’s next. Let’s go.”

—

And then later that night,

when you and Joel were back home, in the privacy of your own apartment, your joint safehaven, naked,

your face smushed into the window,

him inside you, behind you, and slapping your ass,

you moaned like a crazed slut, laughed ‘til you cried, and peered through the glass,

to see two vengeful fires lighting the skyline.

#btw this is ripped directly from my second assault a cop actually said that to me LMAO #fbi if you’re reading this and you think i’m a terrorist go find my rapist first please 💖 i told y’all where he was #anon #ask #sa tw #tlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader

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watchyourbuck · 4 months

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Tease Tidbit Tuesday °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @daffi-990 @lover-of-mine @callmenewbie @eowon @exhuastedpigeon thank you all! Will be reading your works tonight!💗

We’re back y’all! Finally, after two months of being in a dissociative state trying to graduate college, I’ve finally done it. Good news is I’m motivated; bad news is I still need to rest before throwing myself into writing. For now, have it half way!

I know I made a bullet point list of all the fics I was going to focus on, but the writer’s heart wants what it wants, so I have unfortunately come up with a new idea. It’s kinda Christmassy, not entirely so. You’ll see. I do hope you enjoy it, as it’s not quite my usual cup of tea (while still remaining buddie).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

He had to force himself not to drink it all in one go. Yes, he had a high tolerance threshold, but that didn’t mean he had to tempt fate every chance he got. He stared at the glass for a while, then sipped carefully, like a child drinking hot coco. “What troubles you this evening?” The words made him jump in surprise. He turned to his right in one motion, focusing on the stranger sitting on the stool right next to his. “Holy-,” he exclaimed. “You scared me, man.” Buck frowned. The stools were far enough apart for it to be plausible to have missed him, but he vividly remembered sitting on an empty row. Had he sat down while Buck had been looking around the place? “I assure you it wasn’t my intention to startle you,” the man replied, his voice serious and surprisingly grave. It felt as though he was whispering in his ear, but he hadn’t even turned to look at him yet. “But you don’t wear your emotions well.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

tagging in return @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @housewifebuck @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @cowboy-eddie @911-on-abc @butraura @hoodie-buck @honestlyeddie @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @fionaswhvre & @theotherbuckley and anyone else who’d like to participate!✨

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onlyzhuyilong · 2 months

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Only on twitter will I be told I’m being “unprofessional as a fan page” (pls I don’t get paid this isn’t my job it’s a hobby pls) for randomly posting Shen Wei photos or gifs now and then as a fun throwback: (re: the North Face Coat parallels post). And then being told “when will they let this role go.”

Shen Wei is the role that helped him breakout in the industry after a decade.

Shen Wei provided one of the stepping stones for where he is today in his career.

Shen Wei is a beloved character still celebrated on the Chinese socials with xlbs to this very day. heck Shen Wei randomly trended 1 again on Weibo hot search last February.

He has a lot of roles under his belt - ain’t nothing wrong with going back and celebrating them again.

#I have said Shen Wei’s name so much in this post I might as well change my name to Yunlan …🥁 That was a joke but I have read the novel so #I just like Shen Wei I wanna be him most of the time I’m not kidding he’s so cool and his clothes? gimme!#should I bring back the Ma Zhe hyperfixation? and appreciation because I wanna #also I’m not a sailor or a postman or what Amazon Prime offers in 2 days for free #that ain’t my jam and bread I see Shen Wei like I see any role I like…except Ma Zhe I went to 3 film festivals for that character oh my God #please stand by for the queue #y’all gonna phone CCTV and tell them Yo! quit rebroadcasting To Dear MySelf and The Rebel for the nth time they’re old…. no #zhu yilong #text posts #it is ironic I am being told to censor shen wei on twitter that’s just …classic

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itoshi-s · 1 year

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i’m always here to further along ur studies zari i got you<33 LOL but also 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 sae, this is so sae. definitely makes you thank him for how he basically uses you for his pleasure, nearly cums when you do, all breathy and pliant for him im—

😦😦😦 RIVER NO YOU ARE SO RIGHT.. this is so sae :( pls the guy even sounds just like i think he would !!!!! THE SPANKING TOO he does it without a thought by now. he just wants to see your ass all red afterwards, loves to see you wince a bit when pulling your jeans on the following day, needs to feel your flesh under his palm. the more vocal u are over it, the harder he goes 😵‍💫 loves hearing that it’s too much, please, sae it’s s’much. that’s why it nearly makes him cum on the spot the second u so willingly give in and thank him — one second you’re leaning forward to ease up the force of his thrusts (which makes him grunt and grab your shoulders to pull you back against him even harder), then he’s got you thanking him for it within a blink of an eye </3 it strokes his ego so well, to have you writhing with pleasure is one thing, but to hear you struggle to voice out just how good he’s making you feel ????? oh he really really has to hold himself back !!😳

#cw visuals #safe link to tt p*rn!#UHUH YEAH ITS 😋😋😋 SAE CODED FOR SUUUUREEEEEEEEE #u alr know .. i alr told y’all he loooves to take u from the back too #gets to see your silhouette look so crazy hot & it’s so intense that way !!#blue lock smut #sae itoshi smut #itoshi sae smut #sae smut #bllk smut

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