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#Outlast Teeth
cold-doodles · 22 days
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My husband, my babygirl, my everything
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cultofthepigeon · 5 months
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happy hannuka to mother gooseberry and doctor futterman!
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laughing-gunslinger · 7 months
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Fuck you *watercolors your Mother Gooseberry*
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butterbabyflapjack · 10 months
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I apologize in advance for the shit I'm about to write 🩶
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afieldinengland · 3 months
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and i still believe the political history of the world of the thick of it diverges from ours after the end of the series, i.e. that oliver reeder got the party back in power. sorry mary drake you don't stand a chance against the truly new political animal (dangerous, callous turncoat who learned at malcolm's feet and knows that to lack a spine only makes one flexible)
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vanosslirious · 5 months
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Fandom: BBS / Outlast. POV: Brian. Ch: 9 — Generator. Words: 2.185 | 15.367. Excerpt:
He jumped down just to get away from the insistent noises coming from the radio, and he spotted something rather interesting surrounded by a dim orange light.
"Is that…an elevator," he said under his breath, walking over to it. Brian pressed on the lever, but the elevator didn't move. "Shit. It doesn't have power…they gotta have a…generator or something…if the fucking thing doesn't run on prayers."
He had to look for it, but as he drew away from the elevator, there were voices coming from up ahead, and someone screaming out in pain. Maybe they were getting murdered, which…didn't seem like a new thing around here.
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jelly-drop-buttons · 2 months
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After an entire year I am finally posting Outlast again. I also finally finished this rather old animatic of Jazzy and Rick having a moment. I missed them both so much..
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Again thinking about how the song 'Me and Mr wolf' by The Real Tuesday Weld is low-key hannigram coded (these lyrics esp remind me of the brainsaw/cliff scenes):
If - I - taste - you - will - we - know
If - love - kills
Or - makes - you - whole
Tears - you - open - takes - you - home
You have the thing I love
But the need in me is way too much
If I open wide
One of us will get lost inside,
Me
Or you
One of us is going to
Need
To
Die
I have the thing
The thing
You love
You die
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love-fireflysong · 1 year
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Library time is officially over, and I may have spent an extra hour or so there than I meant to. All cause I may have had a *little* too much fun writing all the pain and trauma that the three of them are simultaneously going through just to break down a door 😈
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moondirti · 7 days
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simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.
It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.
He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.
Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.
Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.
He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.
"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.
"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."
Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"
"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.
"Well, he must be soft in th'head."
She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."
"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."
"Hm?"
"His loss is my gain."
"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"
And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.
Instead–
"Could be."
"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"
"Tha' obvious?"
"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"
"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"
She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?
"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."
And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."
It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.
"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.
"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."
Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.
He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.
(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!
I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)
Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.
And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.
When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.
But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.
So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.
(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)
"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "
"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."
Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.
But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.
"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.
"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."
He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.
Just wanna be fucked.
Daft, silly girl.
She should've chosen anyone else.
It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.
"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."
And he means it.
It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.
Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.
Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.
The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.
"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.
"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.
(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)
His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.
"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."
Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.
What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.
"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.
"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."
"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.
"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."
Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.
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blakbonnet · 2 months
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I'm glad this happened in the first place because jfc look at the world and look at the tv landscape right now, it's so surprising it was allowed to take off in the first place. it got a happy ending and yeah they never got to finish the story but they still told some of it and it changed so many lives and people even with the little it was offered. Through bloodied knuckles and clenched teeth, they still managed to tell a godsdamned good story because - good art endures. Fandoms older than us, older than the creators even have lasted and will outlast everyone.
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cold-doodles · 9 days
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I COMMISSIONED MY FRIEND mamucyancxrxna on Instagram !!!
I love my babies RAHHHH 🙏♥️
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cultofthepigeon · 6 months
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My idea for a mother gooseberry redesign is literally just replace the face mask with
a mix of that budapest smile mask and a world war 1 jaw/chin/teeth prothesis
say she got shot in the face when she was arrested and murkhoff scooped her up before the surgeries and healing were complete
baldness caused by that good old fashioned Murkhoff Brand Flesh Eating Bacteria
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starlitmark · 2 months
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Summary: A friendly reminder: Don’t challenge your two large dog hybrid boyfriends Pairing: Alaskan Malamute!Ming x fem Netherlands Dwarf Rabbit!reader x Bernese Mountain Dog!Yunho Tropes: poly au, hybrid au, abo au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: abo dynamics, hybrids, polyamory Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, knots, predator-prey play, dirty talk, pet names, nipple play, spontaneous female orgasm Word Count: 1,154 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Note: part of the Mr. Wolf universe Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist
Listen to ♡ Paranoia by Kang Daniel
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“It’s not like you guys could outrun me anyway.” You poke at your boyfriends, “I’m a bunny. Don’t they outrun dogs all the time?”
Mingi growls lowly, “Watch your tongue, cottontail.”
“Wanna test that theory, bun?” Yunho adds.
A shiver runs down your spine. Yunho’s eyes are dark as he stares at you. Something in the air has shifted. His typically smooth pine scent sharpens, and the undertones of dark chocolate become more present. Even though your eyes are fixated on Yunho, you can still smell Mingi. Your nose twitches as Yunho’s scent mingles with Mingi’s spruce and winter air scent. You glance at the hallway and debate your best course of action. Either you could stay here like a bunny trapped in the corner by big scary wolves, or you could find a hole, bolt down the hall, and make a game out of it. 
The second option seems far more appealing. You turn your small upright ears to the side, listening to where Mingi is on your left. He isn’t moving, but you know his eyes are fixed on you. Yunho is directly in front of you, and he’s not budging any time soon. The space just to your right is wide open. If you move at the right time, you could easily make it down the hall and into your bedroom. Yunho’s eyes shift to Mingi for a moment. That’s the opportunity you needed. You bolt. You make it about halfway down the hall before you find yourself thrown over Yunho’s shoulder. In hindsight, you should’ve known better. Both your mates are dog hybrids, hunting dog hybrids at that. Mingi walks up to where you and Yunho stand in the hallway. One moment, your eyes are on the ground, Yunho’s fluffy dark brown tail also in your field of view. The next, you see Mingi. His finger is under your chin, making you look at him. He’s bent over slightly so as not to strain your neck too much.
“You wanted to play chase so bad. Let’s see how well our pretty little prey can handle the consequences.” He hums, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Again, I can outlast both of you. We all know bunnies last far longer than any dog can in bed.”
Yunho tugs your tail, making you squeak, “Let’s see if you’re still saying that when you’re hanging off our knots.”
Mingi finally moves his hand from under your chin and steps around Yunho to walk ahead of both of you into the bedroom. His spruce scent follows him in a waft of air. It makes your head spin with need. Your own scent must’ve sweetened because Yunho’s fingertips dig into the flesh of your thigh before following the other dog hybrid into your bedroom. You don’t even get a moment to process what’s happening before Yunho is throwing you onto your bed and quite literally ripping your clothes off your body. Mingi pulls you into his lap, his fluffy white and grey ears poking up out of his blonde and red messy hair. Your bare pussy against his joggers feels like both heaven and hell at the same time. You immediately start to grind against him. A low growl from him stops your motions. Instantly, you bare your neck to him, ears pinned back against your head.
“That’s a good little bunny. Listen to your alpha.” He smirks.
“M-mingi, please?” You whine.
“Please, what?” He teases, teeth gently grazing against your mating gland.
You whimper at the feeling of his sharp canines against the sensitive skin, “Need you inside me so bad.”
Your fluffy tail wiggles a bit in anticipation. Just as you think Mingi is going to sink his teeth into you. Your other mate, who has been relatively quiet since ripping your clothing off, pulls you from his lap. You’re sitting back against Yunho’s bare body. You can feel his hard member pressed against your back just beside your tail. Yunho lifts your body as if you weigh nothing and guides you to sit down on his cock. A loud moan escapes your lips as he starts to move you to bounce on his cock.
“That’s a good little bunny. So good for your alphas, aren’t you?”
You nod, “Feels so good!”
Yunho chuckles against the shell of your ear, “And to think, you were talking so big about how a little prey hybrid like you could outrun and out fuck us. You’re leaking slick, bun. You’re such a fucking mess.”
“Yun– alpha! Fuck!” You moan loudly.
Mingi stalks closer to you and smirks, his sharp, pearly white canines on display as he does so. He drops his head in front of your chest before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You squirm and whimper at the feeling of Yunho fucking you, combined with Mingi’s tongue swirling around the hard bud. His hand moves to stimulate your other nipple. You can’t help but bury your hands in his messy, dual-colored hair. The moment you do, he uses his free hand to grasp your wrist in one hand. You’re rendered completely helpless. Yunho’s knot starting to bump against your leaking entrance makes your mind completely blank. 
“You gonna cum on Yunho’s cock, cottontail?” Mingi teases, his sharp teeth teasingly nipping at your nipple.
“Feels so–” You cut yourself off in a broken moan.
“So what, bun? You already that fucked out that you can’t explain yourself?” Yunho teases further.
You can’t hold back your orgasm anymore. Your body shakes, and your pussy convulses. As you ride out your high, Yunho pushes his knot into you. The feeling of him finally popping it in sends you into a second, much more unexpected orgasm. You feel tears start to roll down your cheeks at the intense feeling. Mingi’s teeth still tease your nipples as you come down from your high. Although Mingi didn’t get to knot you at the same time as Yunho, the cum on both his thighs and yours is evidence enough that he came at some point during your back-to-back orgasms. Mingi finally moves away from your sensitive chest and places kisses against your mating gland. You positively melt at the feeling. A moment later, Mingi’s lips are gone from your neck, and although you can’t see it, you can still hear him kissing. He kisses Yunho’s mating gland as well, and the other alpha growls at him half playfully. The sound of the growl has you whimpering and grinding against his knot.
“You’re fucking insatiable, bun. Is our pretty little prey hybrid desperate still?” Yunho tsks.
“Please?”
“Maybe I should give attention to that cute little clit of yours while you’re stuck on Yunho’s knot.” Mingi suggests a condescending hint to his tone.
You clench around Yunho’s cock.
“I think our little cottontail likes that idea.”
“I really really do.” You admit.
Mingi smirks, “I best get to work then.”
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lenoraslament · 1 month
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Infatuated (Tom Riddle X y/N Reader)
Part of @thatdammchickennugget Hogmarch challenge. Prompt 5 “amortentia” and “is that why you did that? Back there?
2.8k words Comedy/Angst/Obsessive Romance/Toxic Love
For all my fellow delulus
You have been Tom’s friend for years, waiting patiently for him to notice you. Completely obsessed over him. Finally at a party you spill all your secrets...
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His letters are long elegant strokes, you lick your lips as his fingers move across the page. His dark brows are knitted together over his perfect eyes. The way his lips purse in concentration, makes the breath in your lungs hitch.
Unwittingly you put your thumbnail in your mouth, gnawing softly as you try to resist the urge to launch yourself across the study table and beg him to touch you.
Your eyes are still studying his hands as they write in his notebook. You consider what they may feel like wrapped around your hair, your throat. A thumb dragging across your lips or nestled between your thighs softly stroking your-
“Quite alright Y/N?” his voice is calm, soft so unlike the raging heat inside of you.
“Yes. Quite Riddle” you say with a flustered smile as you quickly snap back to. You turn the page of the potions textbook in front of you.
You dare not meet his gaze, instead you return to the mask you’ve kept around him. Uninterested, bored even. That’s how you managed the rarity of his company.
Most girls threw themselves at him willingly, eagerly. Flirting, sending him love notes, even daring to be forward enough to ask him out. Fools.
He laughed in their face, raising his eyebrow and shaking his head. The attractive outliers would end up in his bed, being politely swept under the rug in the morning.
You however, have outlasted all of them. You, his study partner, his constant companion, his friend. You knew a measured man like Tom Riddle needed to be approached with careful grace and finesse.
Years you had laid in wait. Waiting for him to notice you across the library table, sitting at his side in the great hall. Pining for any crumb of attention he tossed your way, never enough to keep you fed. Only making you hungrier.
Small moments gave you hope. Fingers brushing over passed books, genuine smiles through laughter, once he stopped down to tie your shoe when your hands were full. His finger brushed your ankle, he looked up at you with a grin as you held in a scream.
Now you sit with him at the library, closer than any other conquest has ever gotten. Breathing his air, pretending to listen to him talk about potions theory this week when you’re really trying to count the flecks of green in his eyes.
Regulus, Enzo and Theo approach the table. Your mouth tightens at the intrusion, they give you an amused glance before turning to Tom.
They invite him to a party tomorrow night in the Slytherin common room, he gives a noncommittal answer. They banter back and forth. No one seems to remember that you’re also sitting there.
They laugh and talk about the party from two weekends ago. You watch boiling jealous rage brewing underneath your calm, stoic face.
Especially when Tom mentions a certain blonde Ravenclaw who he hooked up with. You glide your tongue over your teeth as you press your quill into the page indenting down so harshly, the paper splits.
Enzo, one of the kinder boys of the bunch, extends an invitation.
“Oh yea Y/N, if you want to come…you’re welcome to…” he says in such a polite tone, you almost roll your eyes.
You also give a soft “maybe”, your eyes quickly flicking over Tom’s face trying to read his expression. Does he want you there? Should you go? You try not to stare to long as you dig for some sort of sign in his face. But there is nothing.
Disappointed at his flat affect, you sigh. Too loudly. Fuck. He looks up at you.
“You should come” Tom says with a gentle smile.
“I might” you say as you stare at the textbook instead of him, absolutely mortified at your own behavior.
Theo, Enzo and Regulus leave whispering to each other out of earshot.
“Holy shit why did you invite Y/N!?”
“She’s Tom’s friend”
“More like Tom’s pet. She follows him around like she’s on a leash and she is fucking WEIRD”
They break into laughter, unbeknownst to you. You’re too enthralled in your study session.
“Please?!” You lurch over Pansy’s vanity, her eyes are unsympathetic. She takes an appraising look at your jeans and raggedy sweater.
“No.” She says bluntly,”you’re not used to wearing nice things, you’re going to ruin it.”
You groan and continue to plead your case.
“But I don’t have anything to wear”
She continues to stare at you unimpressed.
“It’s my first party!” You whine and she smirks.
“Why would you think I care?”
She had a fair point. You were hardly even cordial with her much less friendly.
“I’ll do your potions homework. For a week. Two weeks!” You say slamming your hand on her desk desperately.
She sighs loudly and stands up quickly. Her hand plunges into the closet where she retrieves a little black dress. She throws it in your face.
“Three weeks. One stain and I will Crucio you.” She snaps as she sits back down fixing her eyeliner.
The hot singe of your curling iron bit your finger and you suck on the sear mark. Damnit. You were near close to giving up but you looked in the mirror.
You looked…good. You managed to do a decent smoky eye with some lip gloss. You only had three curls left to make after burning your hand about a dozen times. Pansy’s dress fit you like a dream. The only thing that ruined your look was your low conservative heels. They were all you had. You really weren’t much of a going out sort of girl.
You make your way to the common room, the fingers of green neon light are reaching into the hall. The music vibrates under your feet, as you enter the common room you swear you’re transported into another planet.
Your classmates are spilled out all over the common room. Taking shots, laughing loudly, swaying to the music, bodies pressing closely together. You feel like you recognize everyone and no one.
Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and activity. You feel small and alone. Am I experiencing ego death? You wonder but then a familiar voice makes jump.
“Well if it isn’t my big brother’s little stalker.” Mattheo’s voice crept up on you, your eyes widened as you looked around him to make sure that Tom wasn’t nearby.
“Quiet Mattheo” you snap as he gives you a wicked grin.
“You never come to parties,” he says ignoring your ourburst,”You look pretty hot….hoping to play interference?” He teases as your cheeks burn.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie,”I come to parties all the time”.
“Mhm”he grins watching your face.
“Oh look there’s Tom now” he says gesturing with his chin. You flip around quickly surveying the crowd.
Mattheo bursts into laughter,”You are so easy to fuck with”.
You turn back to him and smack his arm as he dies of laughter.
“Come on crazy,” he says with a chuckle,”let’s get you a drink so you can mellow out”.
He tugs your arm through the crowd and you reluctantly follow.
He hands you some punch that is actually delicious. You quickly finish your first cup and then two more. Anxiously sipping as Mattheo talks to you, not that you’re listening at all. Back and forth your eyes begin to hurt from squinting into the dimness of the party; hunting for Tom. You’ve never been this drunk before and you can feel your edges dissolving.
Finally you spot him, some girl a grade below you leans on wall. His forearm is pressed above her head as he leans over her, flirting. His hand brushes some hair out of her face. You’re not used to seeing him like this. Your stomach smolders in pain, for a moment you worry you’re having a heart attack. You can feel it splitting in your chest.
Mattheo’s hand presses into the small of your back, it’s the first sensation to register outside of the despair. You gasp and he gives you a funny look handing you your fourth cup of punch. You don’t even taste it, only tip your head back chugging while Mattheo stares at you in disbelief.
“You okay Y/N?” He leans over to you but you slap the empty cup against his chest handing it to him wordlessly. He takes it and tries in vain to stop you as you start walking towards where Tom and that usurper are standing.
“Hiii,” you say loudly as they both look at you, Tom with surprise and amusement. Her with horror and disgust.
“Hey Y/N, wow look at you…” Tom says raising his eyebrows , “Are you having fun?”
“Sooo much fun,” you slur batting your eyelashes. An awkward silence that you don’t pick up on ensues. You only grin dizzily” Tom. Can I talk to you?”
The girl looks perturbed at your intrusion, but Tom leans and whispers something in her ear making her smile.
He leads you to a corner of the party, the music dulled just enough so you don’t have to yell. The room spins a little but you focus on his eyes, his gorgeous eyes. Then his mouth and jaw. You sigh as the room spins again and it hits you all of a sudden that you’re talking. You’ve been talking this whole time. Your words collide, you have no idea what you have been rambling about. Tom nods patiently at you.
“So any way, I think that’s why we should be together” you finish knowing in your heart you must have made perfect sense. Because Tom Riddle is smiling.
His eyes are unreadable but his mouth is a grin.
That’s answer enough for you. You launch yourself forward, pressing your lips onto his. You can taste the fire whiskey on his mouth and you let out a soft moan as he catches you. Ten seconds of pure heaven before his hands on your shoulder pull you back gently.
He leads you to a chair and sits you down, stooping so he can meet you eye level.
“Wait here okay?” He asks his voice garbled. You nod with a slovenly smile
“Okay...I love you!” You yell after him loudly and he only chuckles and disappears.
To your dismay, it’s Mattheo who comes over to you a few minutes later.
“Alright cuckoo bird, time for bed” he says balancing a cigarette in his mouth as he pulls you up. His hands snakes around your waist.
“Where’s Tom?” You whine as he helps you out of the party. Your feet tripping over your heels.
“He wanted me to make sure you go to bed,” he mumbles as he tries to steady you.
“Awww he really cares,” you sigh dreamily. Mattheo rolls his eyes and leads you to your dorm. Halfway there he gives up on you balancing and throws you over his shoulder. Mattheo unlocks your door as he hums in agreement to your psycho babbles about his brother. He drops you on the bed and unbuckles the straps of your heels as you barely sit up sleepily.
“You okay?” He asks but you only curl onto your bed falling asleep. He sighs and turns the light off leaving back to the party.
No. No. NO! You sit up, stupid party dress still on. Your head pounding. No hangover can come close to the whirlwind of shame that pushed your head back into the pillow. You wanted to cry but nothing would come out but a muffled scream.
“Shut up!” you hear your roommates complain as you pulled the blanket over your head.
You wait an hour but the world refuses to crumble around you. So you reluctantly sit up and go shower. You finally cry in there.
Everything is ruined.
Right?
Could you play it off?
No. Stupid girl. You literally told him you loved him. You sob into your hand. Oh the inhumanity.
You dress and comb your wet hair. You can’t even make eye contact with the mirror.
As if you hadn’t suffered enough, you bump into a very freshly showered Mattheo in the hall outside of the bathroooms. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, when he sees you his grin is devilish.
“There’s the little lush,”he said putting his tongue between his teeth.
You scrunch your nose at him,”Oh go put some clothes on. No one wants to see that.”
He may have water dripping from his curls, cascading down his impressively cut chest and abs, but you hate him. For the simple fact that he is not Tom.
“Oh am I happy to see you,” he teased leaning on the wall next to you,”so tell me, when you shamelessly admitted your love to Tom last night. Did you show him his name scribbled all over your notebook? Or did you wear the sweater you knitted out of his hair?”.
Your face crumpled into rage,”oh screw you Mattheo”.
You sigh when you wonder how bad it was, you don’t remember every thing you said. Although Mattheo is only joking, you know you do have a notebook with “y/n riddle <3” written on it from third year.
Mattheo bites his lip as he suppresses a chuckle,”Well, if you’re ready to go plan your wedding; he’s sitting in the common room right now”.
It takes 64 steps to walk from the bathroom to the common room. You know this because you have doubled back twice trying to build up the courage to finally see Tom. You can hear his quiet words muddled by the loud laughter of Enzo and Theo. Suddenly you feel a someone nudge you.
Regulus and now dressed Mattheo walk past you. Mattheo tosses you a wink as he speaks up.
“Hey look who I found!” He says loudly as he walks in the common room. You hiss for him to shut up as you follow him in.
Your face is already burning as you feel all their eyes fall on you. Okay….none of their eyes fall on you. Especially not Tom’s, his are pinned to Theo and Enzo who are discussing something intensely.
“Did you hear? What happened last night? So fucking crazy man” Theo says to Regulus and Mattheo.
Regulus sits on the arm of a chair,”nah what?”
“Someone handed out amortentia candies!” Enzo said laughing.
“Huh..really?” Mattheo said suspiciously. He looked over to you with an evil grin,”speaking of love…”
You cut him off, “Armortentia candies really?!” You say a little too loudly.
Enzo’s smile turns into a smirk,”Oh yea…chocolates. They were a rogue batch, it intensified love for the first person you saw”.
You don’t know what to say, your mouth hangs open and then shuts.
Tom turned towards you with a look of shocked realization,”Is that why you did that? Back there…”
You stand slack jawed, the idea rippling through your mind like heavens gate opening.
Tom only raises his brow at your silence,”at the party?”
“Yes!” you say eagerly feeling the weight of the world lifting off of your shoulders.
“I did have some chocolates at the party,”You continue and ignore Mattheo chewing on his tongue in the corner, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously.
You take a couple step towards where Tom stood next to Theo,” I must have um, yes and you were the first person…I saw ” you said trying not to blather on as the pieces of your lie came together.
He gives you a curious glance as if trying to read your expression.
You sheepishly shrug,”Gosh I am so humiliated”.
Is he falling for it? You can’t tell, your eyes peer into his searching.
Tom only put a friendly hand on your shoulder, “Forget about it” he said gently.
You nodded with a grateful smile,”Thanks Tom”.
“I was going to the library, care to join?” He asked removing his hand leaving you wanting as usual.
“Yes…let me get my books from my room,” you say. What luck. You can’t believe how close you were to ruining every thing. Fate itself must have made those Amortentia chocolates.
What you didn’t know is that Tom was watching you as you walked away. He knows perfectly well you didn’t eat any amortentia chocolates because there never were any. He started the rumor last night before he left the party.
Tom quite enjoys the little game you’ve been playing. He realized early on just how in love you were with him. At the same time he realized you couldn’t recognize when someone was using legilimency on you.
He loved to listen to the infatuated rantings in your head as he sat in the library with you, your mouth twitching as you lusted over him. The cute smile you would get as you strategized on the ways you could get him to notice you.
He remembers the day he bent down to tie your shoe, having to hide his own smile as he listened to the nuclear meltdown you had in your head as he purposefully grazed your ankle. It was so fun.
One day, he supposed, he would finally make a move on you. Sometimes it was hard to resist, as he listened to all the dirty thoughts spewing in your brain in the middle of class Iike his own personalized erotica. Last night at the party you finally snapped so he had to come up with the perfect excuse for your silly behavior. It wasn’t time for that yet.
Yes, one day he would finally take advantage of the crazy crush you’ve harbored for years. But not any time soon. He was too busy enjoying your quiet devotion, your obsession. No, Tom was not near ready to let that go.
______________
(Hehehee I never intended this to be more than a TMR one shot but I’m getting interested in exploring Mattheo’s relationship with Y/N in this fic 👀 any interest?)
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dotster001 · 1 year
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Can I request for headcanons with the twst second years crushing on their classmate who is also Malleus Draconia’s younger brother?
(thank you for your patience boo! I hope this is what you were looking for!!!! 💙 Also, holy shit there's a lot of second years 😂)
CW: male reader, reader is Malleus' younger brother, Sad Kalim, mentions of Malleus x Yuu for meme purposes
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Malleus has lots of respect for Riddle. So when you asked him who you should go to to learn about human customs, Malleus pointed him in Riddle's direction. Malleus knows that Riddle barely knows modern human customs, but he is a matchmaker Extraordinaire now that he is dating Yuu.
Riddle is honored that the Draconia family thinks so highly of him, and does his best to teach you about what the children of men do these days. It's actually both of you just learning about humans, and it's so cute.
You and Riddle taking notes while Cater explains a magicam trend. Studious buddies.
It's on one of these adventures to learn about modern human things that Riddle looks over at you, and realizes how beautiful and ethereal you are. After that, it's over for him. He's a flustered mess around you and it's easy to figure out what's going on.
"Queen of Heartslaybul, I have gotten the permission of my brother, and request to participate in a courtship ritual with you."
Translation: "Riddle, wanna go to a movie? My brother says it's chill."
Everyone was scared of you both individually, but now? Power couple, power couple, power couple.
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Honestly, at first he was so self conscious about it. How could Malleus Draconia 's younger brother ever reciprocate the feelings of a hyena with no money and no prospects. 
Like your brother, you're very wise. You know, and you decide to be the fae you are, and play with Ruggie until he admits it. You talk in riddles, and pretty soon Ruggie is dizzy thinking about this fae prince, but ecstatic that he is making headway with his crush.
Eventually, he cracks, and admits it. And you just smile knowingly.
"I accept your confession, little hyena."
Doesn't appreciate being called little… but with a sugar daddy boyfriend who'll let him snuggle whenever he likes,  he'll be your "little hyena" as often as you like.
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Floyd is that kid who sees something, and is like "what would it be like if I bit that?" 
So imagine a merman, who has hyperfixations on biting things, seeing a fae for the first time ever in one of his first year classes. Azul spends weeks trying to keep you two apart.
When the time comes, and Floyd has chomped down on your arm, you find it hilarious. As a fae, you barely felt it, and as a prince, you'd never had someone bite you before. Instant friendship between you two . (Tried to bite your horns one time, was very pouty that they hurt his teeth)
You never question him when he nibbles on you. And it becomes a comfort for him. Bored? Find sea dragon, and steal one of his fingers to nibble. Sad? Snuggles, and nomming on your shoulder, please!
Realizes how he feels when he loses all motivation when you have to return to the Valley of Thorns to celebrate your brother's betrothal. He just mopes around the lounge, until you come back, and immediately tells you how he feels. So no more leaving him, okay! 
Really excited that he is now allowed to bite your lips…🥺
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You wanted to study a merman, and Jade wanted to study a Draconic fae. While your intentions were much purer than Jade's, it's still a beneficial arrangement.
As a thank you for his help in learning about mermaid culture, you present him with a terrarium full of Valley of Thorns mushrooms. That's what breaks him.
But if anyone is able to outdo a fae in observation and outlasting…. It's Jade. Jade waits, and waits, and waits some more…and strikes when he's showing you around his home in the ocean.
"I'm certain you've received grander proposals than this, but I would love the honor of being your boyfriend."
He planned everything. He picked a beautiful spot where the bioluminescence of the ocean, and himself, would make him irresistibly mysterious and ethereal. But it also backfires and further accentuates your own unearthly features. Now you're both simping.
"I accept your confession, Jade. Although, if you're using me to get to my mushrooms, I'm not too sure my brother would take kindly to it." 
Both of you laugh, as though you each know a secret, but Jade instinctively wraps his tail around your legs and brings you closer….and it just feels right.
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Azul starts out thinking that you will be in an easy in with Diasomnia and Malleus, but it turned out you could be just as unapproachable as your brother. Oh well, he loves a challenge from time to time.
Not long in to researching you, you join the board game club and challenge Azul to a chess match, here you may or may not have talked in enough circles that he reveals the scheme. 
He thinks he's blown int but you suddenly start making weekly visits to the Monstro Lounge. You order the same thing, make a cryptic comment and leave. It's like clockwork, and Azul can't help but feel you've hypnotized him with this routine.
He grows so comfortable with this routine, that he has your table and food ready before you arrive, and serves you personally. (The twins give him hell for it.)
When you invite him out….he thinks he's going to die.  He tries to keep up the business man persona, but he's such a simp. He's stuttering and fumbling, until you tell him how dear he has become to you, and how beautiful you find him. Then he stops fumbling and becomes a blushy mess that feels all warm and fuzzy inside.
The twins give him hell for it (pt 2).
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People are not this warm and affectionate in the Valley of Thorns. You probably fall first honestly. Like Mal falling for Yuu, you fall for Kalim and spend all your time in Scarabia. 
You play Mancala with Kalim, and play as long as he wants/takes to win. Kalim loves that you don't get bored or annoyed with him.
During the phase where Kalim is being hypnotized and has memory loss, he notices you aren't around as often, and starts to realize how important you are to him.
After Jamil overblots, you come to see him immediately, and do a magical checkup to make sure he's okay. Kalim asks why you've stayed away so long, and his heart breaks when he sees your sad smile as you say, "You, yourself, told me I was no longer welcome."
Kalim cries and hugs you tightly,  telling you he didn't mean it, he loves you so much! 
After he calms down and gets to a good mental state, you both have a conversation about your relationship, and realize you both love each other the same. Happy ever after for two squishy boys!
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You met when Lilia invited you to see his band. Jamil was sitting in the audience for Kalim, and you two had a great conversation before he lost his hearing from Lilia smashing yet another guitar.
Jamil is still trying to be average and unnoticed when you meet, so you don't see him much after that. But he sees you. He is enthralled by your natural skills,  and even though you're a rich kid, (prince) you carry yourself with an air of self awareness and kindness, and he can't help but think that in another life…
Stops that line of thinking really fast. A prince would never be with a servant. But in the days before his overblot, it's definitely you he's thinking about when he thinks about what he can accomplish with his freedom.
After the overblot, you doctor him up, and replenish any empty magic stores that could be a problem. Then you do his chores for him. If he wasn't whipped for you already….
You catch him watching you dreamily, and call him out on it. Then you take his hand and cup his cheek and tell him you feel the same.
"I'm not worthy-"
"I am the second born prince of the Valley of Thorns, a member of a long line of Draconic fae. If I say you are worthy, Viper, then you are worthy."
The way you say it, it's like you are weaving a spell to make it true, and make him believe it. If that was your intention, it worked.
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Definitely a friend's to lovers situation. Silver being raised around you, and both of you at least starting at a similar emotional age (you've passed him, but such is the way of the fae) you were close for the entirety of Silver's life .
He has a sense of duty to Malleus and Lilia for his position, and he definitely still has a little bit to you due to your position as second born, but it's not as heavy for you, so he can mostly relax around you.
He realizes he's in love in a first year flight class when he fell asleep on his broom, and woke up in your arms after you caught him. 
It's a year later, and he's stoically escorting you to the library, when you decide to play with him a little.
"There's this little prince I've had my eyes on…"
Silver's a good knight, so he won't say anything, but deep down he's disappointed. All he'll say is something like, "I'm so happy for you, Prince Y/N."
Then you'll start describing him, and he'll falter. You cup his cheek and look deeply in his eyes and say, "My little Prince is named Silver, and there is no one else I'd rather have by my side." 
Oh.
OH.
Silver probably reaffirms his undying loyalty, then turns a bright red when you take his hand as you continue your walk. Honestly, I ship this one the most.
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