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#terminology lesson
girlyteeth · 6 months
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Let's Talk About Girly-Kei Substyle Names!
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Since this style has been gaining some popularity in j-fashion communities, I wanted to do a small lesson on how to refer to different styles of girly-kei. I've noticed some strange names being assigned to this style, and I want to clear up any misunderstandings people may have about these terms.
There are many labels people put on this fashion style, but for some reason it's anything but girly. It's understandable how some terms could be mistaken for the name of the fashion, especially since some stereotypes associated with these styles have heavily contributed to the wrong terminology being used. Examples of terms that have been associated with girly-kei are... Ryousangata: (meaning a "mass-produced" type of person, who's heavily involved in wota culture) J*rai-kei: (a stereotype referring to an emotionally unstable person who "explodes like a landmine".) Subcul: (It used to have the meaning of "poser" in Japan, but nowadays it is used to refer to any type of alternative fashion. While this one is more harmless, it doesn't do any good to refer to a style that already has a name as just "subcul fashion")
In the girly-kei community, we label these colour combos a bit similarly to lolita substyles. So, let's name some some girly styles that have been getting popular! Sweet Girly: This style consists of sweeter elements, such as ruffles, bows, hearts, and cute prints. Sometimes, you can find sweet girly sweaters with plushie embroidery! Bijou details are also popular with this style, as the jewels seem to compliment the overall cuteness of these outfits!
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Dark Girly: This style focuses on more darker/edgier elements, and these outfits seem to have a more gothic look to it. Characteristics such as chains, leather, and religious imagery can be found in this substyle. Despite the name of this substyle, the clothes don't need to have a dark colour palette. Just as long as they fit the criteria!
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French Girly: This style is meant to resemble a more European style of fashion! This elegant style also maintains a sense of simplicity, as their silhouettes and designs tend to be neat. As you can see, berets are especially popular in this substyle, but other accessories such as pearls, gold jewelry, and hairbands are also used in these outfits.
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I find that among girly discourse, some argue that "girly-kei" is way too broad of a term, but that's where you can have fun with your outfits! It's not a requirement to specifically adhere to a certain substyle when wearing girly-kei fashion, and honestly just wear what makes you happy! A lot of these substyles can overlap as a result, which can create pretty cool outfits!
Referring to these substyles by their proper name not only sounds nicer, but it can help erase stigma around wearing girly fashion as a whole.
If you wish to read about more substyles such as otona girly, retro girly, himekaji (yes, even the gyaru substyle can be considered girly!) and casual girly, there is a more detailed list of all the different substyles in their aesthetics section! Thank you for reading <3
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murky-tannin · 11 months
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I miss people distinguishing between AMVs, PMVs, and animatics. especially the latter two. The amount of times I've gone looking for animatics only for PMVs to pop up is incredible
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dgalerab · 9 months
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re: that last post on self-policing what really annoys me about callout culture is that every analysis on cancel culture (wrt to celebrities and people with large platforms) shows evidence that overwhelmingly them being "cancelled" tends to increase their platforms if anything and then............................. they're like "so you're not being cancelled you're being held accountable"
my brother in christ you literally just proved they are not in fact being held accountable
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kittykatninja321 · 5 months
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crying at this screenshot i took of a tiktok reposted to pinterest. girl how the fuck is massaging your mouth going to do anything for your adrenal glands that are on top of your kidneys??
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nekropsii · 2 years
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thoughts on cronus being "humankin"? and does it make an appearance in sovstuck? as an alterhuman(the umbrella label which otherkin falls under) myself, it's.... not a great representation. I'm not otherkin specifically but there's a good bit of overlap between 'kin and my identity, and cronus just WREEKS of wishkin(aka people who try to change the definition of 'kin to fit them and whine and yell at people for correcting them). oops sorry for the inpromptu vocabulary lesson 😅
Cronus canonically identifies as humankin purely for the sake of attention, which is very much so in line with his character. With that in mind, I would not count it as representation. It reads less as an attempt at representing a group, and more like a method of showing how Cronus will falsely adopt forms of Minority Identity, despite his own flagrant hatred of them, purely because he thinks it’ll get him Pity Points and Pussy.
Personally, my theory is that he saw that Horuss, a therian, had a romantic partner while he did not, and thought that maybe adopting a similar identity would work. I think the concept of him adopting fragments of other, allegedly happier people’s legitimate identities as a method of gaining the attention he believes he deserves would speak volumes to his psyche, and is something worth potentially exploring. It’s simultaneously pitiable and unpitiable behavior.
As far as Sovereignstuck goes, Cronus hasn’t quite reached that stage yet. His false Humankin identity was, in Homestuck, actually a very recent thing. He seems to be rapidly shifting from attention-seeking method to attention-seeking method. Sometimes it’s new identities, sometimes it’s faking or threatening suicide, sometimes it’s simply taking the attention for himself. His identification of being Humankin just happened to be what method he was on when we got to see him in action.
Sov!Cronus has his own phases and methods, and his attention-seeking isn’t quite as severe as what we see in Homestuck. The chronic, desperate need for it is most definitely still there, as that’s been a part of his person ever since he was a small child, but he hasn’t been given the same horrible amount of time to degrade. There’s quite a huge difference between 1 year and 1,000+ sweeps.
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queenqunari · 1 year
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I’m never gonna be over when I was talking to this cishet dude who was asking questions about queer identities (specifically bisexuals/pansexuals and nonbinary people) and he was like
“I get being nonbinary, but what’s with all the weirdly specific new genders???”
I could tell he wasn’t hostile, just generally unaware, so I asked for clarification about what he met.
He said “I met someone who identified as a ‘bear’ like they had a pride flag for it and everything”
I was trying to not sound like I was gonna make fun of him, and asked “was this a large, hairy, gay man?”
“Yeah?”
At that point I started laughing.
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bd-z · 2 years
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Lots of people have fanfic pet peeves. I do too, but this isn’t one of them. In fact, I find it more funny than anything.
Reading older fics and coming across outdated or even anachronistic slang.
Like the term “Hella” being written in a fic that is supposed to take place in late 80’s/early 90’s. 😅 It is not bad to incorporate popular vernacular but it does give me a giggle when it’s in the wrong place.
It also makes me wonder if I ever fell into that pattern of oops.
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yeyinde · 1 year
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body electric | everyone x f!reader
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It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed. 
Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever… had a gangbang before, and things quickly devolved from there. 
(Well. You can scratch that off your bucket list.)
Simon, Price, Gaz, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy x f!Reader
⇾warnings: unfettered filth; gendered reader, gendered terminology, female!reader; oral—m&f receiving; unsafe sex; p-in-v sex, fingering; anal, rimming, anal fingering; this is a 6 man gangbang ummmmmmmm what more can i add? 
⇾notes: um. yeah. it is what it is and it is nasty.
thank you so much @moondirti for encouraging me to write this, and @sprout-fics and @guyfieriii for the juicy ideas (and full credit for the makeout sess with Rudy goes to @guyfieriii) 🖤
(@ tumblrstaff, please don't delete my blog for this)
also, thank u so much cod fandom. if this revokes my fandom license, just know that it's an absolute honour and privilege to go out into the way i came in—with nothing but filth. 
you only have yourselves to blame. and this person in particular 😭
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It starts like this: 
Price, a little bruised around the edges, and worn from the helicopter, grumbles about needing a drink. Gaz, a little quieter than usual, a little subdued, nods firmly beside him. 
It's a spate—Shepherd, Graves—and the cumulation of it all leaves you feeling a little lour, a little out of it. Betrayal, death. You all reek of gunpowder and ichor. 
That may be why there is a palpable sense of relief when Alejandro and Rudy fish out some bottles stashed away in the kitchen. He holds two by the nozzle, hefts them in the air, and says:
Who wants some?
No one, not even Ghost, says no. 
It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed. 
Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever…, and things quickly devolved from there. 
That was then, before you knew how Price, Soap, Gaz Alejandro, and Rodolfo, liked to kiss. 
Price—rough, just like everything else about him; shades of smouldering tobacco leaves in the form of an unrelenting powerplay. He batters you into docility, leaves you feeling vapid and stupid by the time his hands rubs circles on the small of your back, the other holding your chin and leading you—always a leader, always—in whichever direction he wants. He's a thinly-veiled lesson in discipline. When you stray from his command, his fingers—thick, and bruising—are immediately there to reprimand you. He tastes like leather and smells like suede. His beard grazes your face until you feel a little sunburnt, a little dazed. He smells of low-grade motor oil and charred pinyon, and the musk of it makes you feel more intoxicated than the aged tequila on your tongue. 
His tongue curls over your teeth and the noises he lets out are rasping guttural growls. The kicking engine of a classic car that was left to idle for too long. An American muscle car, maybe. The whiplash bellow of a Hemi purring against your lips. A mustang, a Chevelle. Something drenched in masculinity and oozing authority. 
It's controlled. Blistering. He shifts your body around until you're tucked into the warm press of his chest. His hold is ironclad. No escape. 
It's Soap, then, something falling from his lips. My turn, maybe. But nothing is solid in the effervescent grey matter saturating your thoughts. You feel drunk with pink peppercorn and sweetgrass when it envelopes you from behind. 
His hands pull you away from Price, murmurs of soft words, things meant for a lover spill from his full pink lips. So pretty, hen; gonna make you feel so good. His eagerness shows he slots his pelvis to yours, and the hard, firm bulge of him nearly has you seeing stars. 
Soap lingers for a moment, fingers tracing the wet curve of your raw lips, chafed and irritated by the bristles of Price's beard. 
It wouldn't be wrong to call the way he touches the drying amalgam of yours and Price's—captain Price, superior, boss; untouchable—saliva obscene. It's filthy the way he grazes his finger under the curve of your lip, eyes honeycomb and wanting. 
"Wanna gimme a kiss, hen?"
When he asks you like that, soft and hushed, the ghost of his breath across your stinging lips, you can't say no. 
His mouth is molten on yours. He kisses you like he's starving for it. It's wet, and messy. Spittle drips down your chin when he shoves his tongue in your cavern, chasing your taste. Teeth clash, and your lips are pulled softly into his mouth until they swell, bruised and numbed. He only pulls away when you gasp, begging for air, grinning wickedly in the amber glow. 
You barely have a second to catch your breath before Gaz is there, hands firm on your ass, dragging you into him. 
Gaz peppers you in small, full kisses. Open mouth, teeth sinking into the plush bed of your bottom lip, suckling it into his mouth. Then he pulls away, leaves you dazed, and leaning forward, chasing the thrill of him. He huffs, hands sliding around the curve of your waist. Want it bad, eh? 
A tidal wave. A storm surge. They batter against you until you're drunk off the taste of them. An illicit elixir of sin. A tantalising tease of what's to come. 
Alejandro kisses you with unmatched finesse. Velvet soft sensuality that tastes of spiced clove and armoise. It starts slow. Just the press of his lips on yours. They lift into a grin, teeth sealed when you whimper and try to chase the santalum on his tongue. He laughs: a low, throaty chuckle, and wedges the tip between his teeth. A small taste, but not nearly enough to satiate you. You feel a little bit like you're floating in the clouds when his tongue finally fills the gap between your teeth; roiling over every inch of space he can find. 
You feel like a beached log—ruined by the gritty sand on the bottom of the seafloor, and spat back out into dry land. Covered in the taste of them all, you find yourself slipping off a steep precipice into a chasm you can't climb out of. 
It's Rodolfo, then, who grounds you. 
His hand is warm on your chin—a beacon of light in a dark tunnel. His lips are a balm to your irritated, bruised flesh. It's sweet. The taste of sweet Brachetto d'Acqui and hedgerow blossoms. He smells of golden copal and kisses you like he's pressing his lips to the hands of his Father; a baptism in soft skin and reverent touches that make you feel like you've been found. Its featherlight whispers of his lips across your skin: the corners of your mouth, the soft skin between your chin and lower lip. 
Hands on your waist, hot and heavy. Soap sinks his face in the space between your shoulder blades with a slow drawl of your name, teeth grazing your flesh. His stubble abrades your flesh until you're trembling in their embrace. Static shocks of pleasure bloom in the pits of your stomach. 
Rodolfo's head drops, murmured words spilling in hymnals as he nuzzles your neck. Soft, gentle. He puts you together again just to dissolve you into ashes from psalms. 
Gaz leaks grape cigarillos, and nag champa incense when he presses flush to your side. 
It's when he asks Alejandro if there's any oil, any lube, does it start to sink into your sun-warmed flesh that this is happening. It's real.
You could blame Gaz— never have I ever had a threesome or a gangbang —but the idea mushroomed inside of your head, sporous and damning, until it was all you could think about. you, of course, weren't immune to the sudden hush that fell over the group drinking near the table when you stammered out your answer: 
No, I've never had a threesome or a gangbang before.
It all happened so suddenly. The atmosphere was a rich, dense cloud of feverish energy buzzing around you; a miasma of hedonism in smoke and white musk. 
Price, then, behind you. Alejandro's barking laughter (no way, cariño, you're too beautiful to never have been fucked like that before). The way Soap's eyes gleamed in the light. Rudy's quiet shake of his head. Ghost's eyes liquifying: heavy, midnight oil on your skin. The sound of glass cracking when Gaz said:
Well, would you? 
Would I…? Silence. Poignant. Stifling. 
Would you ever have a gangbang? 
It spiralled from there. Gaz's words burrowing into your skin. His hands—are hot and heavy on your body. Soap dropping to his knees as he lifted your leg up on his shoulder, breathing deeply against your clothed cunt. 
Want to, hen? Wanna take all a'us? 
Alejandro's sharp breath. Might break her, hermano. Don't know about you, but I'm a big man.
Yeah, Price's mouth on yours, breath ghosting over your trembling lips. The scratch of his beard rubbing your skin until it was pink and flushed. Ain't the only one, mate. 
Lips searing into yours. Sensual rolls of his tongue from Alejandro, hands roaming across your back. A soft, sweet series of kisses that left you breathless from Rudy. Messy, almost hypoxia-inducing ones from Soap that made your head spin, and drool dripped down your chin, your neck, covering your chest. An intense, blistering assault by Gaz, his hand firm on the nape of your neck. 
It felt a little bit like a dream. Feverish and desperate. Tinged in the surrealism of being passed around like a prized trophy kissed after a well-won match. 
It feels like a cacoethes and carries the taste of Alejandro's tequila. Bad decisions made under terrible influence. 
And now—
Now:
There are hands on your body—many of them, in fact: Price holding the back of your knees up to your chest as he swipes his tongue over your aching cunt, lapping at your clit; Soap's on your nipples, pinching and tugging until you're mewling at the sharp pleasure-pain that ripples down your spine. Rodolfo stroking your face, murmuring in dulcet Spanish about how good you are, how pretty you look with your captain between your thighs. Alejandro's fingers ghosting over your torso, and trailing down to your throbbing clit when Price forces the thick of his tongue inside your quivering hole. 
It edges into overstimulation; you're equally aware of every single brush across your trembling flesh, and completely gone at the same time. Dissolved into liquid mush. 
And they haven't even really started yet. 
Gaz is gone somewhere in search of the petroleum jelly in the office upstairs. Ghost leans against the wall—not willing, you think, to partake but still here, still watching you spread out on the table where he dropped his mask for the first time as everyone touches you. 
"Fuck, cariño," Alejandro rasps, his finger pressing against your clit in tandem with Price's tongue fucking into the clutch of you. It's too much—his voice is heavy with sin and the heft of it makes you quake. "Bonita. You're so pretty like this, eh? All flushed pretty carmesí and aching for it." 
Rodolfo, Rudy he murmurs low in your ear when you whimper his name, chuckles. "She's stunning, eh, hermano."
"Fuckin' right," Soap breathes, his fingers drifting across your smeared lips. "You want this, aye, bonnie? Want us to fuck you silly?"
All you can do is moan brokenly around his hand, fingers rubbing across your tongue. 
"Where's Gaz?" Price grumbles into your cunt, beard grazing your inner thighs. "Wanna fuck this tight pussy already, love. Need to feel you around my cock—"
He punctuates his words with the tips of his blunt fingers, pushing two of them into your dripping hole. The sting makes you keen, makes your knees shake. You want to say too much, too sudden, but you can't speak around the three fingers shoved into your throat.
The look on your face makes Alejandro groan. "I want your mouth, cariño. Can I?" 
"Christ, hermano," Soap huffs, amused. Tone draped in sex. It makes your thighs quiver. "Ready to start, then?" 
"I am," Price grouses, nose flushed against your clit. "I've been thinkin' about this cunt for a long time, love."
They move in tandem. Seamless weaving with one singular goal of stuffing you full of all of them. 
Soap pulls his hand away, rubbing your slick over his flushed cock. 
You moan against Alejandro's cock when he presses it to the seal of your quivering mouth. His hand is firm on your head, but his eyes are gentle. He waits for you, holding still until you give him your affirmation to continue. The sight of his flushed, tanned cock makes you whimper. He smells of sin: oud and myrrh; heady and thick. Your head swims with the way it clots in your lungs.  
Your mouth aparts, tongue rolling out over the weeping head of his cock. It's salty. Brinny. You moan a little when it slides deeper into your mouth. 
"Jesus—," Soap pants, rough and slurred. The noise jars into you. 
Hands fall over you again, and you lose track of who is touching you when Price groans into your cunt, and Alejandro pushes your jaw open wider, sliding more of his cock into your mouth. 
The air buzzes with something bordering on frenetic. Pent up energy from the success of the mission, the alcohol spuming in your veins. The high of the win burns through everyone. 
This—a gangbang —would never have happened if it wasn't somehow the perfect storm, the coalescence of all the right emotions. 
It's intense. Surreal. 
And then Alejandro pitches his hips forward with a smoked groan, murmurs:
"Fuck, gonna cum, cariño. Are you gonna swallow it for me?"
A hushed silence falls around you. It's one thing to attend, but another to partake, and you wonder if they are realising that this is the point of no return. 
It's met with a soft moan. 
You want it. Want his cum. Want to taste more of that salty haar tang in your throat, feel it settle in the pit of your belly. Hot and syrupy thick. 
He pitches his hips forward, hand sliding up the length of his cock not buried in your throat, stroking himself as you suckle on his head. It's sloppy, and wet, and fuck —
Alejandro is the first to cum. The first to spill his milky release on your tongue. It's salty, briny. Not at all dissimilar to the margaritas he handed you hours ago.
His moan is choked and hoarse, a low bellow in the depths of his belly that rumbles through you in a series of deep uh, uh, uhs. 
You barely have time to swallow when Rudy is there. Hands on your cheek, eyes lidded and pleading. Can I, cariño? 
Alejandro's cum spills from your tongue when he pulls away, dribbling down your chin, neck. It puddles on your chest where Soap's thumb catches the droplets, smearing them around your hard nipples. 
You nod, swallowing down the mouthful of cum, brows furrowed in pleasure with each roll of Price's tongue laving at your cunt; the gentle way Soap kneads your flesh. 
Rudy shuffles closer, and the flavour of cardamom spumes around you. His body burns hot, heavy cock twitching in his grip. Your mouth drops, tongue lulling out, and he grunts at the sight, eyes cresting. 
"You're beautiful, mi Reina."
Rudy's cock brushes across your tongue, eyes shuddering when you wrap your lips around him, head tipping back in pleasure. "Fuck…"
Your tongue laves over his slit, tasting the salty spill of him. His breath is ragged, heavy. There is no warning—just a strangled choke of your name—and then he's cumming on your tongue, ropes spurting over your cheeks and chin. 
You gasp, wet and broken, and absolutely filthy. 
"That's it—," Price mumbles against you, blowing a huff of air across your slit. It makes your toes curl—the perfect mix of not enough and too much, and—
Rudy strokes your hair, eyes glazed. The angle is awkward, but his mouth slots over yours, tongue rubbing over the mess they made of you. He kisses you like he's worshipping you. Like you're the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he can't get enough. 
There is a blunt pressure against your core. A delicious coil inside of you unspooling. 
Price has three fingers buried to the knuckle inside of you, tongue rolling over your clit, when you cum around him, knees shaking as you moan at the tight clutch of your walls stretched taut. 
"Fuck," Soap breathes, taking Rudy's place when he pulls away from you, lips red and glossy. He pushes his blunt head against your cheek. Cum spurts out, splattering across your face in thick milky ropes. "That's what you sound like when you cum? Jesus—"
You barely have time to catch your breath when Price lifts his head, beard soaked in your slick. Heat pools in your belly again at the sight. He looks like ruin. Wet and dark, and hungry. You whimper when he rubs the scuff of his damp beard over your spread pussy. Coarse hair grazes your clit, and the spark of pleasure has you seeing double. Makes liquid bliss bloom in your chest. 
"Couldn't wait, eh, cap?" Gaz returns with a wink, waving the bottle of jelly in his hands when he moves into your periphery. 
"Can it, and get over here." 
"Impatient."
Price helps you sit up, mouth stinging, and sticky with cum and saliva. His eyes catch in the dimming light high in the rafts. Drunken desire spools in the shades of sapphire blue. His thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth. 
"Might have to see you like this more often, love."
"Shooting your shot already, cap?" Gaz drawls, humour lacing in his tone. 
"Not my fault you waited too long."
"You're lucky," Alejandro rumbles. Firm hands fall to your shoulders, rubbing the knots in your back until your head falls, forehead pressed to Price's chest with a moan. "Should stay here, cariño. I'll make you happy. Get you nice and fat on Mexican food, and swollen with mis hijos e hijas."
"Sí," Rudy's lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering saccharine words in Spanish. "We'll live on the farm. Drinking wine every day. I'll take you to the coast."
You shudder, belly spuming with heat. Overwhelmed, dizzy. It's a dangerous elixir. A deadly combination. It makes you want, yearn. 
"No way," Soap huffs. "She's comin' home with us. Back to the UK where she can sit on my cock whenever she wants—"
"You're all wrong," Gaz scoffs. "Price called dibs the moment—"
"That's enough." His command is rough, dry. 
Gaz glances at you, and the humour shifts. Darkens. "Fuck, look what they did to you already." 
You feel it, thick and viscous, on your burning skin. The flush deepens. You can only imagine what you look like. Your lashes are clumped together, and heavy. Cheeks irritated from the beard burn and the saline smear of cum over your flesh. Swollen, cock-bruised lips. Messy in voluptuary pearlescent. 
"You look good," Soap says, taut, and slightly breathless. 
They stare at you like you're a banquet—a feast. Your heart thuds in your chest, cum-filled belly rolling. Its—
Powerful. Sensual. 
Price's eyes flutter when he leans over you, hands feverish when they fall on your skin. "Gotta move you, now, love. That alright?"
You swallow and taste the ocean. The sea. "Y—yeah."
He shudders. A frisson flurries across his face. "Good."
His hands are solid on your body as they manoeuvre you until your belly is flushed to the table, panting against the damp fabric beneath you. He presses his cock against your ass, letting you feel the iron-hard, velvety soft heat of him. You push your hips back, cunt throbbing. You want it. Want his cock. Want him to fill you up until you're stuffed and fat, and—
Happy, Alejandro said. Happy. 
"Soon, love," his voice is a thunderclap in a bottle. You tremble when the balmy heat of him moves away from you, leaving you spread and exposed. 
"Fuck," Gaz murmurs. His hand trails down your spine, fingers slipping between the crease of your ass. 
He spoke to you about it already. Five of us. Wanna—he licked his lips, eyes hooded and caramel rich—wanna let me fuck your ass?
In for a penny. 
Gaz shushes you when you whimper, mouth ghosting over the soft flesh of your ass. He wastes no time. His fingers dig into your cheeks, spreading them open. You mewl. Your body is electrified: too much, too soon, too raw—too exposed; but Gaz groans deep in his throat. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
He doesn't give you a moment; doesn't waver even when Soap tells him to move away so they can see. There is no preamble. His tongue laves over your asshole, a filthy grunt spilling from his lips as he tastes your flesh.
"Steamin' Jesus, Gaz," Soap groans. Slick noises can be heard behind you. "Fuckin' Christ—"
It's strange. The sensation is heightened by the awareness that everyone—everyone—is watching Gaz devour your ass like it's the best meal he's had in weeks. You quiver, dropping your head into the table. Price stands by your side, cock jerking each time you moan. 
His hand on your head is a comfort. A heavy weight. Your hips rock back into Gaz's tongue, keening when it slips into your hole. It doesn't hurt, but there's an insistent pressure as he stretches you open. 
A cold, slick finger joins soon after, and the ache makes you choke. 
"S'alright, love," Price murmurs, and your lachrymose eyes blink open, gritty and sticky, and dart to him. His hand tightens around the base of his cock. Your cunt throbs at the sight. "Focus on me, yeah?"
"C—captain—"
The rawness in your voice makes him groan. Makes them groan. You can hear Alejandro swear. Soap grunt. More slick noises reverberate around you, and you flush. Cheeks burning. They're getting themselves off to this. To Gaz fingering your tight asshole open for their cocks. Another hole for them to slip inside. 
Fuck, fuck fuck—
"That's it," Price coos, low and smoky, and filled with rough tobacco. 
His hand threads through your hair as Soap's roam your body, slipping beneath your chest and the table, punching your nipples, stroking your belly. Rudy, or maybe Alejandro—you can't see, can't tell—tap on your clit as two fingers are pushed back into your throbbing cunt. 
You want them. Want it. 
"P—please—"
Price groans, his cock spitting out prespend that dribbles down the length of him. "I want you to suck my cock, love. Will you do that for me?" 
You nod, core quivering as a rush of heat flutters down to the base of your spine. You still taste Alejandro, Rudy, on your tongue. 
You wonder if Price tastes just as good.
Price helps you move, and angles his cock toward you, grunting when your wet, sloppy mouth seals over the head. 
He tastes even better. Salty and bitter. Tobacco ash and smoke. You want to drown in it. 
Gaz stretches your ass as you swallow your captain's cock, and your head still spins with that notion, not quite able to believe you're on your knees for them, spread open, and being readied for all of them that take. 
It cudgels into your stomach: a gnarling frisson that makes throb, makes you push back onto Gaz's fingers, his tongue, and moan around Price's cock. 
"That enough, Gaz?" He sounds wrecked when he speaks. Ashes and gasoline; it's saturated in want. The air crackles with impatience. 
His tongue slides across your fluttering hole in a long, wet stripe, as if savouring the taste of you before he pulls back. 
"Yeah—," it's wet when it slurs out of him. His fingers press against your loose hole, moaning a little when you greedily take the tips inside. "Fuck, she's more than ready, cap."
Price wastes no time. He pulls you off of him, and the others—all communicating in a series of strange commands you can't decipher through the rush in your head—all make room for him. 
He turns you around, and lifts you onto the table, legs spread around the thick of him. His cock throbs against your pussy when you wiggle back, trying to get comfortable on the bed of masks—Ghost's masks—and it hits you, now, that you're going to get fucked. That your pussy and your ass have been stretched, prepped, and are ready for them. All of them. 
He stares down at you, nostrils flaring, and the dark look in his molten sapphire gaze makes you wonder if he feels it, too. If it's hitting him with just as much of a punch as it is you. 
His cock nudges against your hole. He pauses, eyes flickering up from the seal of your cunt around his flushed, engorged head, to confirm, one last time, if you want this. If you're sure.
It's debauched and absolutely filthy, but—your hand reaches out when Soap steps up, cock bobbing with each step, and you grasp his shaft. Alejandro's fingers ghost over your bruised, swollen mouth, and you let him lead your head to his throbbing cock, lips sealing over the leaking head. 
Rudy's hands are reverent when he takes your other hand, bringing it to his length. 
It's all the confirmation he needs, but still. Price waits. Your heart thunders in your chest. Your captain—always so—
The thought is nipped when you nod around Alejandro, and he pushes inside of your pussy. Stretching your cunt with his girth. You moan, legs falling open wider as he splits you apart. 
It's good. It's too much. It's—
He feeds it into you, lips curled up in a snarl as you split around him. He grunts—rasping growls that spool inside of your core until you're white-hot, and whimpering. 
"Come on, love," is rucked from his throat. A battering ram against your chest swinging hard, and ferocious until you see stars. "You can take me."
It makes you tremble. Makes the world around you grind together; tectonic plates shifting, crashing. Earthquake tremors along the base of your spine, rattling your bones. It cracks them open, and leaks Nirvana through your bloodstream. 
Price's cock wrenches you open. Each inch jarring the soporific slurry of sex and smoke congealing heavy in your veins until you're mewling around Alejandro's cock. 
His groans of pleasure as resin thick; smouldering sandalwood. Cracking sap. He works himself inside of you, gruff praises falling from his still-damp lips. You feel good. This pretty cunt was made to get ruined, wasn't it? Take me, love. That's it. They slide over your skin, oud oil and syrup thick, until your flesh prickles with goosebumps. 
Alejandro's cock hits the gummy walls of your throat, his grunt curls over you. Clove and amber. You burn. There is a give, and then—
His hips slide against yours, cunt stuffed to the brim with his cock. Tears leak down your cheeks at the feeling of him sitting so heavy inside of you, at the blunt press of Alejandro's cock choking you in shallow thrusts. 
"Bloody hell—," he groans, head tipping back as he stares at the seal of your pussy taut around the base. "Look'it you. So full of cock. You look like you were made for this, pretty thing."
"Our little slut, eh?" Alejandro huffs, pushing his hips closer to your face as you lap at him. "If her pussy feels as good as her mouth, hermano, I won't last too long."
"Fuck, can't wait to fuck you next," Soap grunts, his hand wrapping around yours as he guides you along, showing you what he likes. "Cannae fuckin—"
Rudy's hand falls to your swaying chest, rubbing your aching nipples as Price begins to fuck you, filling you up over and over again with his fat cock. 
It's good. It's so fucking good. You whine around Alejandro, and feel molten pleasure bloom in your belly as they use you, revere you; eyes fixed on your body as you take them all in. 
"I'm gonna cum soon," Price grunts, his hips pistoning into you hard enough to jar the table. The metal legs grind against the cement floor. The room filled with the scent of sex and the lewd noises that spill from the wet squelch of your cunt greedily swallowing down your captain's cock. The suckling sound of Alejandro fucking your throat. "Look at you, look at this pretty fucking cunt taking me—"
Soap's fingers fall to your clit as Price hits the plug of your womb with the blunt head of his cock, sending pleasure ricocheting down your spine until you're arching off the table. Muscles coil, tightening together as he knocks into the soft walls of your pussy, sending you reeling. 
"Ah, fuck—," Alejandro grunts. "I'm gonna cum, cariño. You'll swallow it for me, eh? Swallow it all—fuck—"
He cums down your throat for the second time, hands stroking your face as he feeds it to you with muttered words in slurred Spanish too fast for you to pick up.
You can't focus. Can't think—
The taste of cum on your tongue, the blissed noses that spill around you, and the way Price fucks you deep, battering against your fluttering walls have you seeing stars. 
You moan, nearly choking on the thick cum that drenches you. Soap leans down, spits on your clit, and rubs the mess in with his fingers. It's feral. It's disgusting—
Your cunt spasms as you're shoved over the precipice, squeezing and throbbing like a heartbeat around the thick plug of Price's cock as he spears it against your womb; a battering ram into your flesh. 
"Jesus, captain," Soap sounds awed, voice pitched low and slurred. "Just givin' it to her, aye?"
"Fuckin' hell—"
He cums inside of you with a grunt of your name draped in liquid sin. Cock twitching deep inside of you, pressed taut to your womb. He holds it there and makes you take it. Drowns your cunt in his thick cum. 
It's wet between your thighs. Your throat clicks when you swallow, nose burning from the flood of briny cum Alejandro poured down your throat. 
Price pulls out slowly, taps the head of his sticky cock against your clit, and you flush at the feeling of him leaking out of you. 
There is no respite. Gaz's hands are on your body, head numb and fuzzy, as they speak about the intricacies of fucking you, of filling you up. 
"Think she's ready for two?"
"Are you?" Soap's fingers fall to your aching cunt, spreading the thick cum around your clit. "Can you take us both?"
"No. Not yet." It's Ghost who speaks, and your belly rolls at the low husk of his voice. 
"Yeah, give her one more." 
Soap's fingers slip into your cunt, and curl against your sensitive walls. "Fuck, captain. You filled her up good."
Rudy's thumb presses against the seam of your mouth, eyes pleading when he stares down at you. His thick cock grasped in his hand. 
You're little more than a ragdoll. An offering between the gods. Soap parts your thighs, head tapping against your throbbing cunt. 
Price leans against a beam close by, eyes burning into you in search of any glimmer of distress. Having him close by calms you. Makes you relax. You settle, mouth popping open for Rudy as Soap pushes himself into your pussy. 
"Fuck, your pussy feels incredible—"
He lets out a string of curses in rapid-fire Scots, burying the full length of himself into your cunt. 
He fucks you like he's aching for it. A madman. His hips bludgeon into you until you're seeing stars, until you're choking around Rudy's cock. It's too much. Too much—
You want more. 
Rudy's hands are gentle on your face, brushing your hair away as he cants his hips. His cock slides over your tongue, and you try to hollow your cheeks, to make it good for him, but the blistering pleasure makes your mouth fall open. 
"It's okay, bonita." He murmurs, resting his head on your tongue as he fists the length of himself. "Just like this, okay? Just like this. Let me—," he fucks into his palm, eyes rolling back as he rubs his weeping slit over your tongue. 
Gaz's hand grabs your swaying breasts in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck your ass next, yeah? Gonna split your little hole open on my cock. You don't want, don't you? Wanna be fucked in all holes, like a little whore."
Fuck. Fuck—
Rudy pushes his cock into your mouth, groaning as molten cum sputters out, drenching your tongue and cheeks. 
"Oh, fuck—," Soap pants, hips slamming into you. His eyes are fixed on your messy face. "You look so fuckin' pretty with cum all over you, so fuckin' good for us, aye?"
His eyes snap shut, brow furrowed in pleasure as he buries the full length of himself inside of your spasming pussy, filling you with another load of cum. 
It's good. It's so good. The sensation of hands on your body isn't foreign anymore. Alejandro moves when Rudy finishes, stroking your hair, and leaning down to kiss your forehead. You go to him eagerly, mouth parting as he slips his softened cock into your mouth. 
Words are murmured around you, grunts and groans of pleasure so robust and full that you clench, aching at the sound of their bliss. 
Fingers on your nipples, your clit, makes you see white. Makes your back arch as liquid pleasure blooms inside your core again. 
Soap pulls out, and you barely have time to mourn the loss of him when Gaz slots between your legs, fingers falling to your ass, and slipping inside with a groan. 
"Nice and loose, now," he purrs, spreading his fingers inside your tight channel. "Gonna fuck this pretty asshole. Gonna fucking ruin you. Alejandro's gonna fuck your pussy after, eh? Maybe me and Price can fill you up at the same time, huh?"
"Gaz," his name is drenched in smoke, a shuddering rumble that stabs tight into your core when Price speaks. Your cunt throbs at the thought. "If you don't hurry up—"
"Alright, alright, cap." 
Rudy's behind you at the head of the table, hands roaming over your skin, smearing cum all over your flesh. He murmurs low, sweet words in Spanish you can't hear over the roaring in your ears when Gaz spreads your legs, cock nudging against your virgin hole. It's comforting, though. His presence is solid. Your hands grip his forearms, whining at the sting, the blunt pressure pushing into you. 
Soap groans. You can hear his voice to your left along with slick sounds of him touching his spent cock. 
"That's so fuckin' hot. Steamin' fucking Jesus—"
You're relaxed enough that Gaz slips inside without much of a burn. It feels strange: a heavy pressure, a slight sting. You're prepared enough that it's more foreign, and uncomfortable than it is painful. But it's—
Full.  
You moan when his hips buck shallowly, pushing more of him into your asshole. It's weird. It's strange. It's—
"How does it feel, love?"
Price's fingers fall on your throbbing clit. Alejandro's—you think, maybe; you can't see through the blurred tears in your eyes—push into your sopping cunt, groaning wetly at the lewd squelch of the cum inside of you. 
"It's—"
Belly full. A pressure unlike anything you'd felt before. Snug, and tight, and—
"Good," you whimper, arching your back. Your nipples are tugged. Pussy stuffed with three of Alejandro's fingers. Ass full of Gaz when he finally, finally, bottoms out with a moan. "It's so good—"
He fucks you slow, steady. Savouring the tight clench of you around him. 
Price works your clit, murmuring about how good you are. How pretty you look, full of cum and getting your ass stuffed with cock. 
"You were made for this, weren't you? Little cockslut."
It punches the air from your lungs when he hisses it into your ear. 
Gaz pushes the length of himself inside your ass, moaning about how tight you are. How he can't wait to fill you up. His hands fall, sliding over your ass cheeks until he brushes over the rim of your stretched hole, hips stuttering. 
"God," he chokes. "Fuck, you look good."
"Yeah, she does," Soap breathes, hands palming at your body, rough and hot and tacky with his release. They glide up the length of your body, pressing into your swollen mouth. "Open up for me."
His fingers taste of pennies when he pushes them against your tongue, stroking over your flesh. He thrusts them in tandem to the rolls of Gaz's cock splitting you deeply. It's a filthy crescendo of moans, grunts, the sloppy wet sound of your gummy mouth being fucked by three of Soap's fingers, and the lewd, fleshy snap of Gaz's pelvis and thighs slapping against yours. 
Rudy strokes your hair, pushing the tangled mess of it out of your eyes, and murmurs about how good you're being. The soft praise prickles over you like the warm glow from an altar candle. The heat makes your eyes burn, stinging with tears, and you take what they give you, and try not to get lost in the rapture of their flesh staining your skin. 
Price's finger pushes against your sensitive clit. Rudy's soft voice permeates around like burning incense. The heavy weight, the foreign slide, of Gaz stretching your channel makes you keen low in your throat, muffled by the messy drag of Soap's knuckles on the roof of your mouth. 
You cum again, shuddering from the billowing pleasure blanketing you from all sides, and fall into the embrace of Rudy's arms. Price's hands are a plinth on your hips, keeping you up, keeping you grounded, and Gaz works himself to completion, scorched words of bliss spilling from gritted teeth.
Soap leans down, tongue catching the mess spilling from your gaping mouth. Alejandro rubs your fluttering walls. It's intense. Overwhelming. You're surrounded by a dense smog of pleasure and musk: clove cigarettes, bayberry, oakmoss, and the thick tang of a wet, loam and humus forest. 
The drawling moan Gaz lets out makes your core ache. He buries himself deep, hips glued to the plush seam of your ass, and he spills deep inside of you. 
"Joder, cariño, you look good with your ass stuffed, eh?"
You can't speak around Soap's fingers. The only noise that spills is a sloppy, wet moan. 
Gaz presses kisses into your spine, slowly, slowly, pulling out of your ass. 
"Yeah, she does." He slurs, rubbing his chin over the small of your back. "Who's next?" 
Everything blurs into a fever dream of hands and tongues, and the delicious stretch of your cunt, your ass, as they stuff you full of them. Filthy words are whispered into your temple as they grow bolder with your body. 
Price gets you off just by slapping his palm over your clit until you clench around Rudy's cock. Soap licks up your tears, fingers pressed as far down your throat as he can get them, and murmurs how sexy you look full of cum. How he can't get enough of your tight cunt and pretty little hole.
You were made for them, Alejandro whispers, and pulls your hips down until you're seated on his cock. The blunt head of Rudy's cock soon presses to your wet asshole, bottoming out with a deep groan. His hands are reverent as they run across your flesh, choked whimpers falling out about how fucking stunning you look when you're stuffed to the brim. 
You sob between them as they share a messy kiss over your shoulder, grunting into each other's mouths as they ruin you. 
Gaz and Price drag you away soon after they finish, petting your messy hair away from your sticky, sweaty forehead, and splitting you apart between them. You scream into Price's chest as he holds the fat of your ass cheeks open for Gaz to rut into like a man starved for it. Possessed. He coos in your ear when Soap shoves his cock into your gaping mouth, choking you on the thick of him. So fucking good, love. Meant for this. After we'll run you a bath and you sit on my cock while I clean you up, hmm? 
You feel a little stripped down to the marrow, pulverised under their wanting hands; when Price presses into your womb, and cums again. The molten spume inside soothes the throbbing ache of your core. A debauched balm to a raw wound. 
It would be a lie to say you hate the way it feels to be so full of them. To have their taste in your tongue, sticking to the back of your throat, pooling in your belly, your pussy, your guts. You're full and sore and you feel like one massive contusion—broken and battered and barely clinging to sentience—when his cock slips free with a wet squelch. 
It's a little surreal, but—
Comfortable. It shouldn't be. It should be weird, and awkward, and—
Fuck. You had sex with five men in the span of several hours. Your teammates, your captain, no less. And yet. 
Yet:
You feel full in a way you'd never been before. Satiated and stupidly fucking happy. 
Price snorts when you lay back on the floor, a blissed-out smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.
"Liked it, did you?"
You don't have the capacity for speech. Words escape you. They can't seep through the salty mess in your throat. 
Instead, you moan—low and needy—and feel your belly quiver when Price's eyes flash. Smoke and embers. And when Alejandro groans aloud. When Rudy's hand trembles on your skin. When Soap's hand falls to his spent, softened cock, unable to stop the thrum of desire when you sound like you had the best meal in years. When Gaz shivers, and says please tell me we can play this game more often. 
It's good. It's—
Footsteps. A hush. A shadow falls over you.
Then: "decide to join in, after all, Lt?"
Ghost's hands are hot on your sensitive flesh.
He says nothing as he crouches down on the floor where Gaz and Price dragged you, but his eyes are liquid when he stares at the mess of you. Drenched, you're sure, in cum; it leaks down your chin, out of your sensitive, raw pussy, and your aching hole. Doused in their pleasure, and burning from the sting of their ardour. 
"Fuck, Lt," Soap murmurs, dazed. He'd spent himself on your face only moments ago, and when your glassy eyes fall to him, you find him staring fixed at the apex of your thighs where Ghost slots himself between. "You're gonna ruin her—"
You don't know what he means until you look back. The air in your lungs catches, eyes widening. He's huge. Fat and throbbing, prespend leaks down the absurd length of himself. It twitches when he catches you staring at him, sticky, numbed mouth dropping open. 
"S—sir—"
His hand slides, fists the base of himself. He taps the head of his cock against your quivering, sloppy cunt. "Can you take me, pet?"
Shit. Shit—
You don't think you can, not at all, but—
Slick noises around you. Grunts of pleasure. Murmured words. They want to see you split apart on his cock. Stuffed full. Your belly lurches. Heat simmers inside of you once again. 
Your trembling eyes find his, and you lay back against the floor, knees parting. Inviting. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip. 
"Fill me up, sir—"
He snarls. 
Ghost doesn't wait. Doesn't touch you with softness, or reverence. His hands are branding, white-hot, when they fall to your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest. His eyes are glued to the messy seam of your cunt, spilling viscous cum down your ass until it pools below you in a puddle. 
You're wrecked. Ruined. You'd had all of them inside of you—your mouth, your pussy, your ass—except him, and your belly flips, head a muddled slurry of want, want, want as the fat head of his cock slips over the milky mess, catching on your ruined, red hole.
"Thought you got lost, Ghost," Alejandro says, words carrying secrets you can't make sense of. 
"Never." 
He pushes the mushroomed head into your cunt, rumbling at the give of your body as you part for him, sucking him in deep. Ghost fills you up until your belly bulges with the length of him. 
Soap moans at the sight. At the way you take the massive cock burrowing deep inside of you. 
They all seem to be enjoying the way he ruins you. Over the heft of his shoulder, the thick bracket of his arms, you see them all staring at the way he wrecks you. Batters your body with wet, sloppy noises spilling out. 
He fucks you slow: long, deep plunges into your core, gaze sliding in increments to your face, slack and tacky with lashes clumped together with an amalgamation of spittle and cum, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root. It's intense. Dizzying. 
You feel pushed past your breaking point: overarching beyond the mettle until you're a raw nerve exposed to the corrosive chemicals in the air. Split apart and reassembled into something new and vulnerable. You're chafed and aching, and it edges on painful, and blistering like a third-degree burn being rubbed against rough wool. But despite the sting, the graze still feels good when it itches over your inflamed skin. A balm that burns before it soothes. 
Ghost—Simon, now, you suppose since he's currently eight inches deep inside of your sore cunt—seems to somehow know. Maybe it's the hoarse crackle in your throat when he hits you deeply, or the exhausted droop of your eyes when he presses his weight against you, filling you up until he sits heavy in your chest, but he takes pity on your poor, battered body bursting with the molasses thick heft of euphoria that congeals inside of your marrow. His thrusts are punctured by the soft way he gazes at you. A physical weight to his stare slams into your chest with each roll of his hips, nudging you back to that steep precipice you'd dropped from so many times you'd lost count. 
The dance is familiar. 
But the gentle, almost possessive, way he touches you isn't. 
"Fuck, Lt. Can see you bulging through her belly." 
Soaps words are met with a rasping snarl, a brutal piston of his cock into your gummy, wrung-out walls. A hand falls to your belly, feeling the swell, and the pressure has phosphenes burning your eyelids when they snap shut at the heavy mist of pleasure that falls on you. 
You don't think you can cum again. Your head is a slurry of intense pleasure: gummy and stupid on the way they fucked the sense out of you. Synopses misfire. You feel like you're barely cognisant anymore. 
It's not good enough, though. 
His fingers find your clit, pressing against the tender nub until you're bucking against him, trying to get away from the agonising euphoria pounding through your core. 
"I want to feel you cum on my cock, pet." 
You can't—
You really can't. But he doesn't relent. He shoves himself into your quivering cunt until you see stars flash across your eyes, and the scent of nirvana permeates in the air. 
If you won't go willingly to the vertiginous edge, he'll drag you there instead.
A sharp thrust has your mind whiting out; the overstuffed feeling of being stretched to the brim sits heavy in your core. Your nails press into his shoulders, desperate to hang on to something tangible, real. They dig deeper until the moons flood with blood. It makes him groan—deep, low; rucked coals over open flames—and the noise has you reaching for Orion with your bare hands, mouth dropped low to catch the cosmic dust that permeates in the air between you. 
"Fuck—" a sharp whimper has him huffing into your neck, a satisfied noise he can't bite off, can't stifle. 
He likes it. Likes spreading you open, and watching you squirm. Likes the flash of pain that flickers across your face when he first kisses your drenched core with the fat head of his cock. Eyes wide, fixed on the scrunch of your brow, the wrinkles in your nose, the deep, punctured gasps that spill from your gaping mouth—he misses nothing, stare branding you.
It's the thick of him when it splits you apart, breaks you in half, that really captures his full attention. Stuffed to the brim, and clawing at him for respite from the way he fits inside of you; he takes it all in. Eyes never wavering. Liquid want flooding the bottom ring of his lower eyelids, a molten pool half hidden behind his lash line. He gazes down at you, fans of ash cresting over. 
And then when he bottoms out, when his cock is fully seated inside of your body that struggles to make room to fit him, he lifts his gaze. A perfect polynya. He stares at you, then, watching—almost placidly, impassively—as you grit your teeth from the burn of taking him to the root. A slow roll of his hips to test your mettle; a harsh grind of his cock nestled taut against the plug of your womb. It has you singing. 
A test of the water. A battering of the futile clutch you have over your sangfroid. He won't start until it breaks. Until it shatters. 
His hands are hot when they grasp the soft skin behind your knees, pointing them down toward your swaying chest as he fucks you open in deep, almost languid cants of his hips until you're grabbing at the ground, and mewling his name. Broken, now, by his cock. 
Simon is a storm. 
A gale. He ravages you until you're dizzy with the brutal way he takes you—and takes, takes, takes —and begging for mercy. 
None comes. 
You can't barter with a typhoon. Can't make deals with a hurricane. 
It hits. Breaching your shores with enough force to ruin. 
"Simon," it is whispered low, constricted. The air in your lungs is liquifying; condensation builds until you're choking. 
Another huff. He thrusts harder, head notching into something that has you lurching forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder. You spasm around him until he growls in your ear. 
His thighs widen, pitching his hips low as fucks into you, a touch savage. Your leg slips from his hold, the back pressed against the muscles of his beneath you. The coarse hair of his legs tickles your flesh. Goosebumps erupt. You shiver. 
The breath you gasp in is wispy, and thin. It isn't enough to quench the ache in your chest, but nor is it enough to truly let you slip into the throes of hypoxia. He brings you to the brink, lets you gaze over the edge of that unknown abyss, but refuses to let you any further. His grip is unyielding. It burrows into you. 
Like this, with black moulting over your vision and phosphenes glimmering in the cosmic yonder that stretches out in front of you, you can feel everything. There is a startling clarity that rocks through you. You can feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he slams it into you, prying your walls open as he steals all the air from your lungs.
"Shit—"
He cums with a grunt that sounds like it was dragged through barbed wire. Liquid pleasure blooms when you feel him twitch inside of you, and all you can do is cling to his massive shoulders as he rides you through the throes of bliss battering into your core. 
Eyes drink you in: wide in the pale moonlight that spills from the window, cut at the bridge of his nose by the mask, jowls snapping at you. He's bathed entirely in black; drenched in tenebrose. A Stygian being looming over you, taking its wares from the tight clutch of your body, and forcing the air from your lungs until it's filled with the scent of him, and nothing more. 
"You look good like this," he murmurs, eyes fever red and cosmic black. "Fuckin' hell, pet. You were made to be fucked, weren't you?" 
Your eyes roll back into your head at the gruff sin leaking from behind his mask. 
"Yes," you whimper, voice shredded and wrecked. He's not the only one who groans at the sound of you, ruined and aching. "Fuck, I love your cocks—"
It feels like the end. Like you'd been spat out on the wrong side of a tornado, and thrust into a battle you weren't, entirely, prepared for. 
But you won. There is victory in the ache that thunders through your joints. A hard-fought war that left you a victor in the middle of a burning no man's land. 
You can hear them around you. Price stroking your hair, and whispering about how good you were. Gaz and Soap huffing with exhausted laughter that sounds a touch delirious, as if they still couldn't quite wrap their heads around the act they were buried balls deep inside of you mere moments ago. 
Alejandro and Rudy mutter to each other in blistered Spanish. You hear the clink of bottles as they toast each other over a victory, and a fucking gangbang. 
They take turns touching you. Caring for you. Rudy makes you drink water, eyes melted chocolate—glossy and sleek with the remnants of pleasure. Aqui. He says, pressing the cool bottle to your sweat-slicked forehead. Aquas. Drink up, mi corazón. 
Alejandro supports your shoulders when you struggle to sit up and take a sip. Gaz has a towel pressed to your cheeks, cleaning up the flaking mess of dried cum and sweat. Soap's hands clench yours tight when the bottle shakes in your grasp. Price is there to hold it steady. 
Ghost hasn't taken his eyes off of you once since this started. You meet his stare, gloaming light shading everything in gold. He tips his chin. A promise in the obsidian cut of his eyes. 
Thought you got lost, Ghost—
Gaz huffs. Gems shatter. Crushed into shards that sit in the palm of your hand, waiting to be reassembled. 
(Someday, you think.)
"Best game of never have I ever, ever." 
 
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  "So….," Soap slurs, cheeks pink and eyes swimming with incipient desire. "Round two?"
8K notes · View notes
thefantasyden · 2 months
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Stray Kids as Doms + their favourite Sub types with bonus fake texts (Hyung Line)
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SHAMEFULLY SELF INDULGENT! High raunch, bdsm themes. Some of the terms for the subs are not official terminology, just accurately descriptive. It's a slut fest over here!
Chris: Daddy/Brat Tamer + The Obedient Service Brat
Chris is a Caregiver first and foremost. He is the soft and strict kind of Daddy who gives in to your every wish if you ask him nicely but still expects you to follow his rules. BOY does he love a Brat, though! More specifically, he loves that you know exactly when he needs you to be a Brat. Chris is someone who struggles with letting go of his tension, so you have learnt very quickly that some snippy remarks and tantrums are an easy way to push him into Tamer mode so that he can get the sweet release of roughing you up. He's not a sadist necessarily, but he loves gripping you hard and pushing you around, manhandling you into submission. The two of you have such delicious chemistry, and he trusts you so much that he's free to let go when he's with you. His favourite scenario is when he's had a week that was out of control and he's greeted by you calling him things like Dude, Bro or Mate when he walks through the door instead of his usual pet names, you actively choosing to roll your eyes when he asks you for something and egging him on with phrases like "Yeah? Why should I?" and the classic "Make me." You're a Service Brat, pushing exactly how he needs and wants and being rewarded with his hands bruising your hips as he fucks you dumb. He gets to feel in control and have the satisfaction of "breaking" you down into his usual obedient sub, and you get to be completely free of any thought unless he gives you a command. It's truly a win-win scenario in his eyes.
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Lee Know: Brat Enabler + The Sadomasochistic Kitten
Minho is a Brat Enabler THROUGH AND THROUGH. He wants you to get yourself in trouble. He WANTS you to break his rules and give him reasons to torture you with funishments. Nothing makes his eyes sparkle quite like you telling him no when he tells you to do something. He always gives you a warning before he goes into funishment mode, usually along the lines of "Are you sure you wanna play this game?" You're his favourite pest and he loves the ridiculous things you do like knocking things out of his hand and swatting at him. Minho also loves a sadomasochist because, well, he loves pain. Giving, receiving, he loves it all. He's the kind of Dom who would demand that you bite him harder or dig your nails deeper into his back and he also wouldn't shy away from a little struggle if you'd both pre negotiated it. He's someone who has specific phrases he will use to gauge what you're feeling like and will adjust the way he ruins you depending on your answer. The one thing I will say is Minho doesn't take disrespect. Be bratty all you want but the second you cross in to being disrespectful, it's gone from fun pleasure filled spankings to him making you write "I will not be rude to my Owner" 200 times. He knows you never intend to be disrespectful, but he is quick to ensure you learn your lesson. He always holds you close afterwards, though! He knows being punished makes you feel really fragile, and he will shower you with love and praise to make sure you know he could never stay upset with you.
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Changbin: Service Dominant + The Spoilt Bunny
Changbin is a soft Daddy/Service Dom, argue with the wall! I don't mean soft in action, though. I mean soft as in, he gives you everything you could ever want. You so much as mention something in passing, he's buying it for you. Changbin loves with acts of service, and his favourite act of service is spoiling you rotten. I don't know where my Bunny x Binnie agenda started, but I'm committed to it now. I genuinely think he'd adore having a sub that was always rearing to go. After recording, after a workout, first thing in the morning. He loves intimacy so he loves that his spoilt fuck bunny is always climbing in has lap and begging for his cock. He's a beautiful mix of slow deep fucking and hands pinned to your back in doggy fucking and he probably doesn't care when or where, he just wants to be touching you. Binnie LIVES to be the reason people feel good. God, he just wants to have you writhing in pleasure for him and he will do anything his baby wants if it's gonna get them there. He does know how to be strict when he has to, but he just loves to let you get away with being a little tease because you're so cute to him and he loves your little pout when you want something.
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Hyunjin: Rigger/Sir + Rope Bunny
Hyunjin is a Rigger for sure, and outside of rigging, I could see him as a Sir. He's not quite for being called Daddy, but he still likes having a title. He may also be stiffling groans every time you playfully say "Yes, Sir" in front of other people. He has probably always had an interest in Shibari, but meeting his Rope Bunny was life changing for him. He'd drag you to classes and spend hours practising what he learned through his Shibari Study subscription. It's not even sexual at first. Not until he hears the dreamiest moan leave your lips when he's tying your arms in a diamond weave binder. That's the first time he fucks you when you're tied, your faced pressing awkwardly against the floor. You're so beautifully lost in bliss, and you're so easy for him to manouver and manipulate to his wishes when you're all floaty. He has so many albums full of artsy pictures from rope scenes, and he has a stunning array of different colours and types of rope. He loves to pick the material of the rope based on the vibe he wants to capture (he has a soft spot for the aesthetic cotton ropes, but he knows you love the scratchy bite of jute) He's always incredible with the aftercare too, running you a warm bath and rubbing lotion all over your body once you're out. You're his Bunny, but above all, you're his Angel, and he will always treat you accordingly.
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highpri3stess · 3 months
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Oh my god, they’re…
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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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“They ate me alive and left me for dead”
series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
updates: wednesdays and fridays
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Series masterlist
mood boards
series content warnings (read carefully): 18+, DARK CONTENT, Tokyo revengers AU, female reader, virgin reader, heavy smut, polyamory, Dark Impulse Mikey, Manipulative Izana, inaccurate/inconsistent university terminology, heavy angst with little comfort, betrayal, misogyny and sexism, emotional, physical and mental abuse, virginity loss, purity culture allusion, mental break, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual harrassment, dubious consent, noncon, drug, alcohol and substance misuse/abuse, extreme violence, use of weapons, torture, criminal activities, PTSD, paranoia, emotional incest, power imbalance, character death(s) (not reader), anal penetration, mention of self-harm, religious guilt and trauma, religious themes, vouyeurism, gangbang, masochism, sadism, hard kinks, strangulation (non sexual), psychological horror (more warnings to be added soon)
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Chapter 1: Warning Signals
summary: being friends with emma sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.
word count: 9k
cw: misogyny, alcohol mention, sex mention, rape mention, brief religious mention, reader is called a whore/slut, slutshaming, sexual assault, noncon to dubcon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacriphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming, destructive thoughts, mention of violence (towards reader)
Chapter 2: Shots Fired
summary: izana kurokawa decides he has to teach you a bitter lesson that you wouldn't forget any time soon
word count: 7.5k
cw: smoking, mention of drugs, brief description of child abuse, childhood trauma and sex work, violence (against both character and reader), emotional incest, night terrors, allusions to sex, mention and brief description of rape, asphyxiation (non sexual), manipulation, slut shaming, near death experience, sexual assault, noncon, oral (m.recieving), face and throat fucking, attempted murder
Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils
summary: the two brothers realize that peace with emma is within their grasp, they just need your cooperation
word count: 12.3k
cw: character x character smut - cunnilingus, struggling with sexual attraction, angst, mention of assault, physical violence, slut shaming, misogyny, intrusive/dark impulsive thoughts of murder and rape, manipulation, gaslighting, objectification of reader, mental health struggles, masking, breaking and entering, smut -character x reader, reader is threatened with r*pe, dubious consent, making out, dry humping, cunnilingus (reader receiving), pussy job, terrible aftercare, religious themes and guilt, panty stealing.
Chapter 4: The Calm
summary: emma decided you needed a break from all the stress of life and takes you to her home for a vacation and for a moment, you forget that reality is often disappointing .
word count: 12.5k
cw: male masturbation, academic fatigue, misogyny, objectification, one mention of unwanted pregnacy, implied drugging, age gap relationship, fluff to heavy angst, minor character death, murder, mental break down, panic attack, gang related violence, gun violence, metions of drug related business (c*caine), dubious consent, slight manipulation, mutual masturbation, fingering (fem. receiving), jerking off, nipple sucking, praise kink, squirting, proper aftercare.
Chapter 5: Act on Dark Impulses
summary: you knew better than to trust mikey and izana. yet you fall for their plan hook, line and sinker and live through the worst night of your life.
word count:
cw: coming soon
Chapter 6: The Closest you’ll ever get to being in Love
summary: things get sicker and twisted with the two brothers and Emma is none the wiser.
word count:
cw: coming soon
Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulation
summary: You learn the hard way what happens when you refuse to be their stress relief because of your important exams.
word count:
cw: coming soon
Chapter 8: Divine Intervention
summary: You are called home to bury your mother and learn that nothing has changed since you left.
word count:
cw: coming soon
Chapter 9: Lead Me not into Temptation
summary: emma notices that something isn’t right with you when you come visit her in the sano residence.
word count:
cw: coming soon
Chapter 10: Deliver Me from All Evil
summary: you’ve finally broken the cycle, but at what cost?
word count:
cw: coming soon
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notes from monica: I do not endorse any of these behaviors or any crime committed in this fic. This is purely for entertainment and introspection, please read the warnings for the series and each chapter and in case I missed anything, please dm me. If you are part of the taglist and you cannot read this fic because of your mental health, please, please and please alert me, I will take your name off. Your mental health first before my notes.
Thank you to my mutuals and all my followers who have supported me throughout and to those who will read this fic and support me. Since I began this account, I’ve made wonderful friends and I’ve been encouraged to write beyond my fears. Thank you, especially Zaya (@manjibunny) ! The mood boards turned out well because of you and all our discussions about the fic helped me a whole lot!
Anyways, enjoy. Asks, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. PLEASE I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS AND THEORIES. It goes a long way to know what people think about my fics.
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This work belongs to monica. do not copy or steal my work, do not promote my work on tiktok or twitter and do not use my work in any AI or chatgpt program.
divider made by the lovely: @mikeykuns
banners, moodboards, gradient texts were all done by monica.
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series taglist (special thanks to): @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe2 @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @uradveragewhore @wcayaw @blueberry3muffin @haikyuusboringassmanager @diana-005 @perilous-pasta @kokoscutie @kannaaa015 @abadonkori @datura-inoxia
General taglist: @anemptypuddingcup , @happygoluckyalexis , @mastermindenoshimaalicia , @haitaniwhor3 , @iheartamajiki , @pinksilk , @lostsomewhereinthegarden , @bontensbabygirl , @linn-a-a , @leilalago , @ranscutedoll, @lovelygeniegirl1012 , @crackheadwithtoes , @haziel13, @reiners-milkbiddies , @k3rrpii @jalepp , @dreamingofyourmoons, @aceredhairliberal, @ateezbabysitters, @eroscastle , @hvziers 
Bolded can't be tagged. You can comment or send me an ask if you want to join the taglist.
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melobin · 4 months
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જ⁀➴ riize as porn plots series masterlist
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a series of seven stories written about the members of riize, each story features a different members with a different cliché porn plot
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
➾ shotaro as 𐙚 your new yoga instructor in ⤦
➙ yoga class summary - your friend drags you to a yoga class where you get a one on one lesson with the instructor. warnings - yoga instructor!shotaro x female reader, dom!shotaro, bad use of yoga terminology, mirror sex, unprotected sex, cream pie.
wc - 2.7k released - 05/01/2024
➾ eunseok as 𐙚 your boss in ⤦
➙ how to get a raise summary - as his secretary, you’re meant to be there for all of your bosses needs. so who would you be if you didn’t help him whilst he’s stressed? especially if you were getting something out of it yourself. warnings - fucking boss eunseok warnings- boss eunseok x secretary reader, dom!eunseok, sir kink, fingering, oral giving and receiving, unprotected sex, clothed sex, big dick!eunseok, manhandling, spitting, creampie, cock slapping, face fucking, cum eating, facial. wc - 5.4k released - 10/01/2024
➾ sungchan as 𐙚 your mechanic in ⤦
➙ nuts and bolts summary - your car has been acting up all week so you finally decide to take it to the garage after work, lucky for you there’s only one person there and you’re his last customer of the day. warnings - mechanic!sungchan x customer!femalereader, dom sungchan, strength kink, size kink, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise, hair pulling, biting, finger sucking, manhandling, face fucking, oral sex f and m receiving, cum eating, heavy use of good girl
wc - 4.3k released - 13/01/2024
➾ wonbin as 𐙚 your interviewer in ⤦
➙ casting couch summary - as a newbie to the porn industry you go through the same hazing process as everyone else. the casting couch. you were just as nervous as you were excited when you found out famed porn star park wonbin would be conducting your interview. warnings - experienced porn star!wonbin x amateur female porn star!reader, dom wonbin, finger sucking, nipple play, oral f and m receiving, face fucking, spitting, manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, being recorded. wc - 4.3k released - 06/02/24
➾ seunghan as 𐙚 your poolboy in ⤦
➙ wet summary - your pools been getting dirty due to your usual pool cleaner being on holiday, your neighbours notice this and decide to offer you the help of their son, who would you be to decline such a charming young man a nice, wet job? warnings - pool boy!seunghan x milf!reader, power play isn’t really used ... wc - tba. released - coming soon.
➾ sohee as 𐙚 your pizza delivery boy in ⤦
➙ a better way summary - due to a lack of food in your apartment, you decide to order pizza. the only issue is, when it arrives you realise you can’t find your purse. you don’t want him to leave with the pizza and you definitely don’t want him to call the cops, so you sort out your own way of paying him. warnings - pizza delivery boy!sohee x female reader, power play isn’t really used ... wc - tba. released - coming soon.
➾ anton as 𐙚 your nerdy tutor in ⤦
➙ new things summary - as the hot, popular girl on campus, you never cared too much about your grades until the college decided to give you a warning, if your grades didn’t improve you’d be kicked out, so you get sent to the nerdy loser to be tutored. whilst you’re with him, you decide he needs some tutoring of his own.
warnings - nerd tutor!anton x bimbo!reader, sub!anton ... wc - tba. released - coming soon.
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shootingstarwritings · 3 months
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Body Surfing Lesson
“’Body surfing,’ is an important skill to learn as fledgling body possessors,” Gerald spoke to the hidden camera, putting on his teacher persona as best he could considering the ciscumstances. “Normally, it takes a lot of mana for us to take over other people, but the body surfing technique involves taking over multiple people over the course of a single day, using their own mana as a sort of ‘surfboard,’ to ride the waves of mana that flow inside of us all.” He inwardly cringed as he spoke, his current body very clearly unfitting for his lesson.
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Gerald had no idea who had come up with such awful terminology, but it was far too late to change that. The small yet tight-knit community the possessors in the area had formed needed to have a sense of unity. Too much innocent blood had been shed for shame to hold Gerald back. ‘Far too many of you have been lost for me to get cold feet now,’ he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation for the future viewers.
“I’ve already spent quite a lot of my own mana to possess this young man,” Gerald forced his host to say. What was his name again…? He focused, face visibly tightening before his eyes widened in realization. “Jerry! Huh, it’s so close to my name.” He winced and made a mental note to himself to delete that part of the video. “It was difficult, y’know,” he said, pacing around in Jerry’s underwear with very little shame. He couldn’t help but strut, already enjoying the tight muscle in this youthful form. “I had to float into his cute little butt to take him over.”
Gerald grinned and slapped Jerry’s butt, enjoying the slight jiggling. He thought back earlier today as he launched into a story of how he had taken Jerry over for his class.
Gerald’s misty form had crawled through the apartment building’s pipes, searching for a nice and hot host that would catch people’s eyes while he tried to educate them. Then, he found Jerry exiting the shower and clad in just a pair of new-age briefs. Gerald stared at it in confusion, unsure if this is really what the young ones were really wearing. ‘Am I getting old?’ Gerald had briefly mused before launching himself towards Jerry’s ass.
“AH! Woah, ahhh…!” Jerry collapsed on his stomach, ass facing the ceiling as Gerald’s essence took him over. “Ah, pl-please… help…!” gasped Jerry, his hips thrusting on their own as he lost consciousness.
“Mmm, nice…” Gerald muttered as he sat up. He rubbed his stomach and then his bare, youthful legs. “It’s been a while since I was someone so young. And so hairless,” he chuckled.
“And that’s what happened,” he finished for his class. “It was lucky that this young man enjoys filming so much. Now I’ve got a nice and high-quality camera for this lesson rather than some janky phone.” It truly had been serendipity for him. Gerald giggled as he sat cross-legged in front of the camera, enjoying just how his borrowed form felt so exposed and yet so confident in his near-nudity. “So, I’ve got a dilemma. I want to move on and yet I’m pretty much exhausted my mana supplies—the essence of the soul. Say I even got into the trouble and I have to evacuate for whatever reason. What could I do in this situation?”
Gerald waited a quick second before continuing, “If you don’t know, that’s fine. This technique’s quite advanced. Not even some of our more veteran community members have even mastered it. Yours truly, however,” Gerald paused to place a hand on his chest, making sure to lightly tweak a nipple, “is well-versed enough in the arts to enlighten you.”
It wasn’t a secret nor difficult to figure out the theoretical part, but it was a challenge to divert the flow of energy instead of letting it be lost to entropy. It was similar to having a rush of anger and trying to convert the energy of that anger to something productive. In other words, it was turning anger to passion, turning sadness to compassion, and turning joy to kindness. The emotion behind it was just as important, if not more so, than the actual intention. 
‘Easier said than done,’ Gerald thought. ‘Honestly, I’d have to do a one-on-one with all of these new possessors for them to even get proficient at it. However, just imparting the knowledge would be enough… for now, at least.’
“Now, I have invited my host’s friend to come over soon. Before he arrives, I’m going to start masturbating my host’s body and preparing my mana.” One of the ways that mana flowed was through bodily fluids, with semen being one of the most potent ones. The emotions surrounding a climax allows a large flow of magic to surge through and even be present in the semen that one shoots at that moment of peak pleasure. “I won’t use my own mana,” summarized Gerald, “but instead use this young man’s mana from his own climax to possess his friend, Mike.”
Gerald was about to continue, but bit his lower lip as he heard the faintest knock from the front door. Then, Mike’s voice called out to be let in.
Grinning, Gerald placed a finger to his lips and winked at the camera. “Let the show begin.” It wasn’t difficult to begin jacking off in this youth’s body. Even stroke felt like a lightning strike and even gasp was just fuel to Gerald’s fiery lust--now reborn in this young vessel… for the time.
“C-C’mon in,” Gerald forced Jerry to say. He had left the apartment’s front door unlocked on purpose. With any luck, Mike would get curious and explore the lustful noises straight to Jerry’s room. “Door’s unlocked.” Everything was falling into place. Gerald had seen a few pictures of Mike. He was a cute ginger with a good body that used to play hockey in high school. Though his sports days were behind him, Mike still regularly went to the gym to keep a nice form. “Mmm…!” The thought of taking over another young hunk, one with fiery curly hair that was so much like his own during his teenage years, almost made Gerald cum on the spot.
“Hurry up…!” Gerald hissed. Just how much more did his thick cock need to finally cum. It was such a tease--to be on the verge of cumming but not getting there quite yet. “You stupid fucking himbo, fucking cum already!” Although he was on the verge of running out of time, Gerald couldn’t help but find the verbal abuse arousing as well. “Cum for me, boy. Lemme feel that stallion cock of yours burst all over your hairless, himbo body…”
“Jerry? That you? What’re you doing…?” Gerald could hear Mike’s approaching footfalls, and that only made the whole situation more erotic. Before losing his body, Mike would see his best friend cum all over himself like a shameless exhibitionist. And then, Gerald would do the same thing to Mike. Forget the class or keeping the peace, Gerald could only think of hopping between men and turning each of them into cum-obsessed cocksuckers.
“Hrrngh! Oh god…!” 
Yes… it was approaching. All Gerald needed to really turn this body on as he cranked the cock was a bit of foreplay. His core was beginning to tense, and he could feel himself rush past the point of no return.
Right at the precise moment, the door opened. “Jerry, what the fuck?!” Mike cried out as he saw his best friend beating his meat without a lick of shame.
Grining, Gerald forced Jerry to shout, “I’m fucking cumming…!” as torrents of cum shot high into the air in Mike’s direction.
‘Now, give me your body, boy.’
Riding that climatic wave, Gerald used the large pool mana that Jerry’s young body was shooting to propel his soul forward. Even though all of his own energy was spent, he felt rejuvenated, as though he was 20 years younger, as Jerry came. However, just like a normal wave crashing into the sea, it would not last forever. The energy could not be stored, only spent in that very moment; but that small burst in power was all Gerald needed as he dove into Mike’s body.
“Oomph!” Mike huffed as the force of Gerald diving into his body was enough to knock him off balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground, body convulsing as an invisible, unknowable force began to take him over. “Wh-What the fuck…?!” was all he could say as a cold and numb sensation spread from the tips of his fingers and toes into his core. “H-Help… ohh… please don’t…” Mike reached a trembling arm towards the doorknob, his fingers twitching as they tried to find anything to grab onto.
By the time Mike’s fingers gripped the brass knob, Gerald was already in control. “Mmm… delicious.” Something that Gerald noticed from certain bodies was that they somehow had some kind of spiritual ‘flavor.’ Mike reminded him of strawberries in a shortcake somehow. He licked his lips and chuckled at the light bristle of Mike’s bushy and manly beard. “Trying to be a real man, boy?”
Gerald forced Mike to sit up and then lie on his stomach. “Just a young man trying to be a big boy,” he chuckled as he positioned Mike’s ass high in the air, wiggling his hips the whole time. “But then a real man like Gerald took over my body. All with my best friend’s spunk as a springboard. God, what kinda friend--what kinda man--am I for letting that happen?”
A horrible idea suddenly crossed Gerald’s mind. Crawling back into Jerry’s room, Gerald opened Mike’s mouth and began to suck the remaining cum off of Jerry’s still twitching cock. “God, Mike, you’re so virile. I’m so glad you’re this cumslut’s friend,” said Gerald. Then he realized that he was still supposed to be explaining a lesson. 
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Grabbing the camera, Gerald focused it on Mike’s face and began to speak. “Well, did you see that? I was all out of mana, but masturbating with a man’s other body, I was able to use his energy to possess this hunk of meat.” To illustrate his point, Gerald stripped most of Mike’s clothes until he was down to his boxer briefs. “See? And--” he stopped as he heard the front door open.
“Jerry? You home? What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?”
Jerry’s father. A tall and broad-shouldered man that, from what Gerald could tell from Jerry’s memory, wasn’t particularly fond of Mike due to his… ‘lifestyle.’ Was it due to something repressed? Mike certainly seemed to think so, but Gerald couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Taking a look around and seeing the scene before him, Gerald began to internally panic--twisting Mike’s generally nonchalant expression into a stressed grimace.
‘Shit. His son’s unconscious, covered in cum,  and his best friend’s stripped down to his underwear.  If I saw this scene I’d think Mike was trying to date-rape my son! Don’t think I’ll be able to simply laugh off this little excursion. But… the only way to get out of this would be…’
Gerald had never attempted a double possession, with or without an explosive orgasm catapult. Was it a good thing that the camera was still recording? He wasn’t sure anymore. To be frank, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Loud, boisterous footfalls continued to ring in his ears.
Even in times of danger, Gerald knew he could rely on his libido to get him out. Throwing Mike’s underwear away, no longer caring about maintaining any sense of professionalism, Gerald got to work. Using what was left of Jerry’s cum as makeshift lube, he began to explore Mike’s tasty body with horned-up haste.
“The hell’s that, Jerry? Got a girl over?” Jerry’s father called out again. Gerald couldn’t help but giggle in-betweens his moans. If only he knew.
Mike’s gruff voice contrasted so wonderfully with his high-pitched and needy groans. His back arched and his toes curled as Gerald continued to beat his dick. The other hand freely explored the nice pelt of orange hair that coated Mike’s body.
‘What I wouldn’t give to just have a day with this guy,’ thought Gerald. A few tweeks of the nipples and he could already feel an orgasm building up. Just a few more minute and vigorous strokes and he’d be home free. “C’mon, cum for me…! Just a bit more.”
Jerry’s door flew open for the second time that day, and this time Jerry’s father roared in horror at the scene before him. “MIKE! What the fuck are you doing?! Jerry?!”
‘An audience,’ Gerald thought, smirking at the older man. ‘And not a bad looker either.’
“Hey, daddy-o,” Gerald forced Mike to say. He thrust into his grip, gyrating his hips as though to show off what his body could do to Jerry’s father. “Like the show? Have a seat, I can do so much for you if you want. I don’t mind some audience participation.” To emphasize his own point, Gerald raised a hand with a bit of pre-cum and slowly licked it off--savoring the sweet flavor.
Jerry’s father, mouth slightly agape and expression somewhere between horror and arousal, just stared at Gerald abusing Mike’s body. “Y-You’re sick,” he finally said, eyes glued to Mike’s swinging cock as it twitched. “What did you do to Jerry…?”
“Same thing I’m gonna do to you, daddy!” Gerald cried out in glee as Mike’s abused cock shot the first few rounds of semen. He bit his bottom lip, moans just barely muffled, as Mike’s hips naturally thrust with each shot. As the orgasm reached its end, Mike’s body began to tremble and grow limp as Gerald shot himself out. He rushed through the air and quickly dove right into Jerry’s father through his large chest.
“Hurugh! Ohh, what the fuck…?!” Unlike Mike, Jerry’s father remained standing even after Gerald dive bombed into his chest. However, despite his stronger will, he was unable to stop the tidal wave that crashed over his body. His broad arms gripped the door frame for support as his knees bent from the pressure. 
The invasive presence washed over him, filling him up slowly. It wasn’t unlike the first time his ex-wife had pegged him. The fear that came from being filled for the first time was matched only by the pleasure that followed. Just the thought of that night made his cargo shorts tighten. He knew that he should’ve been afraid and even outraged, but his body betrayed him in favor of the invasive presence. “M-More, please fuck me more…!” he whispered as his grip on the door frame tightened. Sweat dripped from his body as his soul let the tides carry him to a blissful and erotic rest.
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“And that class,” Gerald forced his host to say, “is how you use your host to your advantage. Now, this is a more advanced technique, so don’t worry if you find it tricky at first.” Bill, Jerry’s father, was far more comfortable to Gerald than Jerry or Mike. The beefy look and authoritative voice also helped Gerald really get into the persona of a professor. It was like putting on a custom before getting into character. “But, as you can see from my improvised lesson plan, it’s possible to even chain multiple possessions in just one day! Really beats having to wait for the refractory period to end, huh?” He chuckled in Bill’s deep baritone, hands on his stomach as he felt Bill’s stolen body jiggle and quake with life. This was more like it.
And with the lesson done, Gerald now had plenty of time on his own to get familiar with Bill. Maybe Jerry and Mike would like to get involved as well…
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youremyheaven · 26 days
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A Basic Guide to Vedic Astrology
I think many of you are new to Vedic astrology, so I thought I'd give a little intro to some of the concepts, terminology etc
First and foremost, Vedic astrology dates back to 5000 BC - 10,000BC, which means it only takes into account Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and the 2 nodes of the Moon, Rahu & Ketu along with your Ascendant. Outer planets like Uranus, Neptune, Pluto along with asteroids are NOT calculated as most of them were discovered only in the last 2-3 centuries.
A conjunction takes place when two planets are placed in the same nakshatra within 5 degrees of each other. Even if they are placed more than 5 degrees apart, so long as they are in the same nakshatra, they can to some extent be considered as conjunct (the effect will be less potent than an exact conjunction basically) BUT if you have Sun in Ashwini and Venus in Bharani, you DO NOT have Sun conjunct Venus in Aries, that is NOT how it works. Those two nakshatras have entirely different themes, mythologies, purposes, deities, planetary influences and lessons, how on earth can they be considered "conjunct"???
That said, wherever you have a conjunction in your chart will have a major influence on you. It is a very potent energy. Dont ask me if having Saturn conjunct Ketu in Ashwini makes you a Saturnian or a Ketuvian because that's not the point, its that those two planets have a specific relationship with each other in your context and to understand the functioning of one, you must look at the other (along with its placement, aspects etc etc)
There are 12 rashis, corresponding to zodiac signs and each rashi is divided into 2 or more lunar mansions called "nakshatras". If you've wondered why say Arieses all act so different, its because they're either UBPs or Revatis in their Vedic chart, contributing to vastly different personalities.
In Vedic astrology, we have the concept of 7 charakarakas all of which indicate a different purpose:
Atmakaraka aka the soul indicator. it is the planet at the highest degree and represents your soul/being. its your compass and points towards the calling of your soul
2. Amatyakaraka, it typically points to your career/profession and works alongside your atmakaraka. it is the planet at the second highest degree
3. Bhratrukaraka (planet at 3rd highest degree) points to relationships with siblings
4. Matrukaraka ( planet at fourth-highest degree in your chart) signifies your relationship with your mother or maternal figures. It represents the nurturing qualities within you and helps illuminate your connection to your mother or motherly figures in your life.
5. Putrakaraka (planet with the fifth-highest degree in your chart) reveals your approach to parenting and your potential for creativity. It provides insights into your connection with your children and your capacity for artistic expression.
6. Gnatikaraka (the planet with the sixth-highest degree in your chart) indicates obstacles and adversaries in your life. It reflects your ability to overcome challenges and confrontations, making it a valuable guide for navigating life’s hurdles.
7. Darakaraka (the planet at the lowest degree) it is associated with your spouse and romantic relationships. It uncovers the qualities you seek in a partner and offers insights into how you relate to your significant other. Understanding the Darakaraka can provide clarity on your love life and partnerships.
HOW TO STUDY NAKSHATRAS:
Read about the mythology behind your nakshatras. This helps shed light on its nature.
Look at your nakshatra's yoni consort. Read about what the yoni animal symbolically represents
Similarly, read about your nakshatra's deity, ruling planet, other naks under the same planetary influence etc
There are 4 purusharthas (aka motivations) in vedic astrology according to which nakshatras are classified. understanding the different classifications behind each nak helps us understand its nature better
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similarly naks can also be classified by their ganas which describe the nature of these naks:
Deva = godly, Manushya = humane, Rakshasa = demonic
if you have a rakshasa gana nak, it does not mean you're a demon. it just points towards traits like selfishness, lack of generosity etc AND the person you are is sum of your whole chart, not just the gana of one nak, so don't beat yourself up
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Naks are also classified on the basis of their qualities of which there are 7
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they can also be classified on the basis of caste:
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(all tables, pyramid etc by me so any mistake is mine oopsies)
4. Chart Ruler
The ruling planet of your ascendant sign is your lagna lord. If you're Mrigashira Rising, then your lagna lord is Mercury/Venus (based on whether your nak falls into the Taurus portion or the Gemini portion).
5. Navamsa or D9 chart
Look at your D9 after you've studied your D1 otherwise it'll feel like too much info you don't fully understand. Navamsa is consulted along with your D1/Birth chart. you can think of it as D1 promises certain things and D9 is if/how those things materialise. its like part 1 and part 2 of a story
I can't think of anything else that should be covered🤡but if you have doubts you can ask!!
I hope this was helpful!!
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kalamity-jayne · 1 month
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Sorry for asking but I am a cis male teenager (well, I thought I was.) but lately I have realized I think I might be a trans girl? I am very scared to drop my masculinity. How did you find out you were trans if that’s okay to ask?
Of course it's ok! I am always happy to help someone who is questioning their gender. However, this is actually a pretty loaded question, because while there is a lot of talk about "when my egg cracked" in trans circles, figuring out you're trans isn't always attributable to any one singular event. Some folks might crack through and emerge from their egg in one swift motion but that is not true for everyone, it certainly wasn't true for me. Sure I could tell about the moment the first crack in my shell appeared, but a single crack in the egg is a far cry from actually breaking out. For many it's a process that can involve a series of revelations and tends to require lots of self reflection and learning how to love yourself. So, there is no quick and easy answer for this. However, I think my story will have a number of different lessons relevant to your question.
Before getting into all that though, I feel I must point out that cisgender folks rarely ask themselves these kinds of questions and when they do entertain these thoughts it's brief and comes with very little agony. The fact you have gone so far as to reach out to trans woman for advice, the fact the you are clearly worried by the prospect of being trans, is a pretty clear indicator that you probably are trans. Regardless of whether you actually are transgender or not, I want you to know that either way, it's ok. You will be ok, no matter what conclusions you come to.
Now, the story of how I figured out I was trans. Bear in mind, the first “aha moment” was 20 yrs ago and things were very different back then. I was about 17yrs old at the time and the term transgender didn't have the currency then that it does now, there wasn't the robust set of terminology that we have today, there were far fewer resources to turn to, no social media, and the overall public opinion was significantly more hostile towards anything LGBT. Anyway, more below the cut.
I didn't follow the typical trans narrative of the time in the sense that, as a child I didn't really care about my clothes so long as my favorite cartoon characters were on 'em, I liked toys typically marketed towards boys, I looked like a boy and everyone referred to me as a boy. So I thought I was a boy. However, I do have a vague memory from early childhood, somewhere between the ages of 4-6, of sneaking into my mother’s room and stealing a pair of her satin underwear and trying it on (it surely would have been too big on me but I remember liking the texture of the fabric) and hiding it under my bed. This memory has since been confirmed during my adulthood by my brother who shared a room with me at the time and had apparently found the hidden stash.
From an early age I was explicitly shunted towards masculinity. I was regularly told to “stop acting like a girl,” and “quit crying like a girl,” and even at one point to “stop walking like a girl,” by my peers and one of my brothers. By the time I was a teenager I was doing my best to be as masculine as possible going so far as joining the highschool wrestling team, a sport that is as homophobic as it is homoerotic, and I hated every minute of it because being manly didn't feel natural to me (and it definitely didn't stop the bullying). It felt like I was trying to ice skate uphill. I fit in but only imperfectly for I was merely acting.
I was also very confused about my sexuality. I thought maybe I was gay or bisexual (turns out the latter) but that didn’t really explain what I was feeling. Around 17yrs old I got curious about transsexuals, thinking maybe the answers would be found there and hoped on to the early and oh so clunky internet. Now I knew of transsexuals conceptually but I didn't know anything about them. Sadly, pornography was really the only reliable way to actually see what a trans body looked like back then. I was stunned because the women I saw did not look at all the way I expected. I was blown away by how so many of them, genitalia aside, looked indistinguishable from cisgender women. And they were all absurdly beautiful. I felt an immediate attraction but there was something else I felt too, envy. And that realization was the first crack in my eggshell.
After that I couldn't get the thought of crossdressing out of my head. So, I dug through a box of my mother's old clothes and took a few items she no longer wore, an old white tennis skirt and a very very 70s sleeveless orange blouse. I was so comfortable in those clothes and when I looked at myself in the mirror I felt good, really good. So, I continued exploring, shaved off all of of my body hair, went to department stores that were open late at night to buy girl clothes (deathly afraid someone would recognize me), I would stay up late at night to watch HBO because at midnight they would occasionally air stuff about trans people, (I remember two documentary shorts in particular and the movie Soldier’s Girl) and I scoured the internet for more information. The internet search brought me to a website called TG list (at least I think that’s what it was called, this was 20yrs ago after all) which was a directory of resources ranging from The Breast Form Store (which still exists!), a myriad of gender identity quizzes (I took nearly every single one), and Susan’s Place.
Susan’s place was one of the few reliable places to hear from actual transgender adults. Unfortunately, while Susan's Place had a lot of useful information the forums there were full of horror stories, a never-ending supply of all the things those women had suffered. So needless to say, there was little to no positivity around transness to give me hope. I was afraid to call myself trans as a result, afraid of what it meant for my life, my future, and my physical safety (you have to remember that back then Mathew Shepard wasn’t old news, his tragedy was practically current events). So I called myself a crossdresser but for reasons I didn't understand at the time I deeply resented that label. I think deep down, no matter how much I tried to deny it and bury it, a part of knew I wanted to be a girl. So when I came out to my parents as a crossdresser and explicitly told them I wasn't trans, that I didn’t have any desire to transition to female, there was that lil voice at the back of my mind calling me a liar. That voice would follow me until my late 20s.
Coming out was a real struggle for me because not only did I think my life would literally be in jeopardy, I thought everyone would think I was making it up, having not followed the stereotypical models of transsexuality. When I came out to my parents they didn't disown me or anything but they were noticeably uncomfortable around me when I was in girl mode. At a certain point I needed their help (credit card) to buy a gaff for tucking and that was when my parents, out of a misguided desire to protect me, pushed me back into the egg. Because of their rejection I spent the rest of highschool and most of my college years trying to hold the egg together with even more denial and by doubling down on masculinity. While I did have some fun during my college years, on balance I was miserable and depressed. I chafed at my male costume and I knew I was lying to myself the entire time, and I hurt myself a great deal.
During my senior year of college I started privately dabbling with crossdressing again, the desire had been nagging at me incessantly. A short time after graduating I met my wife who accepted that side of me and she introduced me to the BDSM/kink community, and the overall culture of nonjudgmental acceptance there cracked the egg for good, because is provided spaces besides my own room where I felt safe being a girl. From that point on I slowly but surely came out of the egg, first calling myself a crossdresser, then genderfluid for awhile, then GENDA passed in NY making me an explicitly protected class and for the next 2 yrs I presented as a they/them genderqueer woman 100% full time without HRT (I was still reluctant to call myself a woman).
I wrestled a long time with the choice to go on HRT. Ultimately that was always a big stumbling block for me. Therapy had gotten me pretty far but I was still afraid of so much and was unsure I would be happy with the changes because my parents had initially rejected me as their daughter in very paternalistic fashion I struggled to trust my own instincts. I still struggle with that sometimes. Eventually, I befriended a trans woman in my neighborhood who pointed out HRT works very slowly and that it takes a long time for any permanent changes to take root. So, she suggested I give it a try and if it didn't feel right I could stop.
I was also taking gender identity quizzes again. Now most of these claim to be diagnostic and those ones a generally misogynistic garbage (they ask stupid questions like, “are you good at math?” and assign a gendered value to the answer) but I happened upon one that started with the disclaimer that it wasn't diagnostic and instead only offered questions that are good to think with. Two questions in particular were very helpful. The first asked, "If you could take a pill that would allow you to wake up tomorrow as a girl, would you take it?" My answer was a hesitant yes, but that yes was bolstered by the next question, "If you could take a pill that would allow you to wake up as a man, in your current body, but without any dysphoria or desires to be feminine, would you take it?" My answer was an emphatic no because that would have felt like killing an important part of myself off. I then at the age of 33yrs old started HRT and 4yrs in I am incredibly happy. That was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
Now, I know that was a lot of fucking text to read but I wrote all of that because I know the prospect of maybe being a trans girl feels scary to you right now but I want to assure you that as daunting as it may seem there is so much about being a trans woman that is full of beauty and joy. I love my trans womanhood and despite the hardships, I wouldn’t give it up for anything. In fact the opposite is true. Knowing what I know now, I would give up almost everything in order to be a woman. So if you feel like you want to give girlhood a try, do it! You can take small incremental steps and you can always stop if it doesn’t feel right, either way you will gain a degree of self knowledge most cisgender people lack completely and that is absolutely priceless! Plus, unlike me when I was a teen, there’s all kinds of resources and information available to you now and an entire community of people ready to help you, and unlike the women in the forums from my past, we aren’t all gloom and doom.
As for your fear of giving up masculinity, don’t let that fear lure you into the denial trap like it did me. Denial is like quicksand, once you’re in it becomes hard to get out, the more you struggle the deeper in you go and it is so very suffocating. And the thing is, you actually don’t have to give it all up. Back when I was presenting full time as woman without HRT, I felt like I had to be ultra feminine all the time, full face of make-up, dress, heels, the whole nine yards. Now that I’m 4 yrs in with HRT I don’t feel that pressure anymore and have since reclaimed certain aspects of masculinity I actually liked. I sill like presenting high femme from time to time but these days I mostly rock a soft butch aesthetic, flannel/t-shirt, jeans and the only makeup I wear daily is just a lil bit of blush. At certain point you become comfortable and realize that gender is just a sandbox to play in and experiment. Masculine and Feminine are just concepts, they aren’t real! so regardless of being cis or trans, don’t let those mere concepts box you in! Just do what feels natural and right to you!
I hope all of that was helpful to you anon, and that at the very least you walk away from this knowing you don’t have to have all of the answers about yourself right now. Now, I don't no the particulars of your situation, so I’m happy to speak with you further if you have follow up questions, just send another anon.
Best of luck to you anon, I am rooting for you!
Big hugs,
Mother Calamity
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existslikepristin · 4 months
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Okay, so I've done a couple of rewrites now, and I don't think I'm going to ever be fully happy with this, so let's just fuckin post this bad bitch
Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Sounds, Dreamcatcher, Itzy, Gahyeon, Yuna, first times, but let’s be real virginity is a social construct that means nothing about someone’s physical state of being, #LearnHowTheHymenWorks, cunnilingin' n' fingrin', nervousness, not even the normal kind of brattiness, Yuna’s just an insufferable idiot, no anal in this one wtf am i thinking?
Off to a Slow Start
~~~~~
Gahyeon rubbed the stress out of her eyes. Or at least she tried to. The skinny, shivering girl draped over her lap was turning out to be a pain in Gahyeon’s ass (instead of the other way around, as it should have been). 
“How about we do something else?” Gahyeon asked with a tone somewhere between hopeful and commanding.
“W-what? Why? I’m f-fine. This is s-so hot,” Yuna peeped. Sort of. It was more like she sobbed it like an emotionally damaged puppy might.
It was quite the shocking change in attitude after only two warm up spanks. Yuna’s butt wasn’t even pink.
Downstairs, when she first stomped up to Gahyeon, Yuna had been acting like she was hot shit. She put her hand on Gahyeon’s thigh, played footsie under the table, talked out of her throat like some kind of pornstar wannabe. It came as no surprise, then, when Yuna suggested that Gahyeon accompany her upstairs and "teach [her] a lesson." The part that was actually a surprise was when Gahyeon realized: when Yuna said “teach [her] a lesson,” she might have meant that very literally, because it was pretty obvious she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
Gahyeon caught Yuna’s glistening eye in a decorative mirror on the wall and raised her hand as if to strike again. Never before had Gahyeon seen someone flinch away so hard from a simple slap on the ass, or grimace like they were expecting an executioner to flip the switch on an electric chair. She lowered her hand and very, very gently patted Yuna’s thigh. "You know what would be fun? Let's make out!”
Yuna pushed herself up on her elbows. Her bare stomach peeled away from Gahyeon’s thighs. Probably because she’d been sweating so darn much from her nerves. She gave Gahyeon a poor excuse for a defiant glare and sniffed away the lump in her throat. “Make… make out? But I’m here for… I thought you were supposed to be a good dominatrix.”
Gahyeon looked up at the dimmed light fixture and exhaled quietly. “Hey, I know you said something kind of like this earlier, but can you remind me what your safe word is, Yuna?” The question sounded a little more condescending than Gahyeon had meant it to.
“I don’t need woa-aaah!”
Crooking her elbow under Yuna’s waist, Gahyeon picked her up, suplexed her onto the bed, climbed on top of her, and got face-to-face. “First of all, ‘dominatrix’ is improper terminology for this situation. Second, if we don’t negotiate a safe word, I’m out of here.”
"Ummm. I, uh. Um."
"Tell me the first word that comes to mind."
“M-mistress?”
Gahyeon rolled her eyes. “Okay, bye.”
“Huh? Wait!”
Gahyeon was already halfway to the door by the time Yuna scrambled off the bed, but turned back to give her an uncaring glare. On her feet, Yuna was a hell of a sight. Tall, skinny, but curvaceous, like the kind of doll that would be sold to make young girls self-conscious about their bodies. Long, dark red hair and black pools for eyes, and she'd put on far more makeup than reasonable for an average coffee run. Gahyeon didn’t want to leave, but Yuna wasn’t making staying the easy decision.
"Wait for what?" Gahyeon asked.
"For… to… so you can make me…"
"I can't make you finish a sentence."
Yuna's supermodel bearing was taken down a peg by her disappointed slouch and concerned grimace. "You know what I mean… like, dominate me."
"Why?"
"Aren’t you horny?"
Gahyeon glanced at Yuna's tits. "No more than usual."
"What? But I…"
"You sure did."
"I-I was going to say—"
"I know."
"N-no you don't!"
Gahyeon groaned, "Maybe I don't care then. No big deal. Take your pick. I don’t like brats. I only tolerate them during Kinktober."
Yuna blushed and looked down, wiggling her knees in discomfort. Gahyeon wasn't going to deny that Yuna was fantastically fuckable, but she was also responsible enough to know when someone was in over their head. "Well, Yuna? What are you trying to do?"
Yuna muttered "I want to get laid" under her breath. With no other noise in the room to mask it, Gahyeon heard it, and yet a vague muttering wasn't what she wanted to hear.
"What's that? I couldn't hear you."
"I wanna get laid,” Yuna whined, fully out loud, “Okay?"
Gahyeon leaned back against the doorframe. "You a virgin?"
Yuna's blush extended down to her shoulders.
"Well that's a yes."
"B-but! I'm—No, I'm not!"
"And you would say that even if I said calling someone a virgin is just a bad social construct and that being a so-called ‘virgin’ is no better or worse than the alternative?"
"Uh…" Yuna scrunched her nose as she used all of her brain power to process the question. "Yes? Or, wait, no?"
"Nevermind.” Gahyeon waved it off. “Just tell me the truth. Have you had sex before or not? Anything with hands or mouths counts."
There was a pause while Yuna weighed her options. "No…”
Gahyeon was actually a little bit shocked. Yuna was among the hottest of idols, so even this level of awkwardness didn’t seem like it should be too much of a hindrance. Gahyeon had fucked or at least fucked around with a dozen idols with subpar social skills in the prior couple of months.
“But I've been trying!” Yuna shouted after the briefest silence, “Nobody will fuck me though! Not even men!”
“The fuck do you mean, ‘Not even men?’”
“Boys are supposed to be horny all the time. But even if I show them my pussy, they keep rejecting me.”
Gahyeon sighed, “Is that proceeding or preceding a conversation?”
“Of course I say ‘Hi.’ I try asking them if they work out too.”
“Is that it? Because idols have to work out. It’s in the job description.”
Yuna groaned and plopped onto the bed, curving her back like a clothes mannequin, apparently subconsciously. “I've tried all the stuff boys are supposed to like! I touch them, I guide their hands to my boobs, I tell them they smell sexy. All that stuff! And don't get me started on girls. I see them going around and getting laid all the time! And it's like, they'll be sluts for anybody except for me, and—”
“Let me stop you there before you make more of a fool of yourself,” Gahyeon snapped. Yuna froze. “A few things. One: We only use words like ‘slut’ in an endearing manner around here. Two: Some people might just not want to fuck you, ever. Can’t control it. And three: Are you just expecting sex from people? Like me?”
Yuna shifted uncomfortably. “No… I'm doing what I'm supposed to do first.”
“And what is that?”
“You know.” Yuna waved her hands around, pantomiming nothing in particular. “I ask politely. I let them know I'm available. I make myself up for them.”
“And…” Gahyeon mimicked Yuna’s pointless pantomimes. “They should obviously be throwing themselves at you, yet somehow nobody is approaching you?”
“I’ve been approached, I guess, but not from anyone in my league.”
“Pretty sure you’re still in the little leagues, my dude.”
Yuna whined, “Why should I be?! Every fan and their mom wants me.”
“Gross power dynamic, but okay. So I should have just known what you wanted when you walked up to me? And I should have wanted to fuck you? No conversation required?”
“Well… No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that if I do all that stuff—and more, by the way—and they're horny, why shouldn’t they want to fuck me? I'm not even demanding anything from them. I'm offering! Like, blowjobs. I'd be doing all the work!”
Gahyeon stepped away from the door frame and paced the room. “Here's the thing, Yuna. It sounds like people might be picking up on an attitude problem.”
“Attitu—but, no! I'm literally offering a good time, and usually I offer just to make them feel good! I'm not asking for anything in return! What's the big deal?”
“Nothing you've said yet strikes you as ‘bad attitude?’ Because it sounds to me like you're not affording people the courtesy of assuming they have a full breadth of human emotion and think they're good for nothing but sex.”
Yuna blinked. “I-I am, though!”
“Not, or aren't?”
“Ugh!” Yuna grabbed a handful of her hair. “No, I'm saying… You know what? Forget it! I'll just never—”
Looking her up and down for a moment (and not really listening), Gahyeon wondered if her behavior was ever anything like Yuna's. Probably not. She was practically domming her members ever since they met, and it turned sexual almost as soon as Gahyeon was old enough. Relating to Yuna was clearly out of the question.
Even so, Gahyeon felt a sympathetic pulse in her veins. Yuna's troubles, self-imposed or not and ultimately, definitely not anything close to a big deal, were still troubles to Yuna, and they were eating her up, it seemed.
Gahyeon weighed her options. Doing as Yuna demanded would enforce negative opinions. Refusing would make things more awkward for the next person Yuna tried to seduce. But Gahyeon did still like the idea of Yuna… She cracked her knuckles.
“—so I guess I'll just die alone,” Yuna continued to bitch on, “stuffing myself with bigger and bigger—”
Gahyeon cut Yuna off with a hand over her mouth. “Yuna? One word answer. Do you still want to get laid right now?”
Yuna’s eyes, glistening with tears at the edges, widened in something between fear and awe. And yet, she didn’t answer.
Half expecting her to come up with some kind of painfully awkward excuse for saying no, Gahyeon kicked things up a notch. She pulled up her shirt with one hand, catching her bra along the way, and flashed Yuna, full-boobed. She took her hand off Yuna's mouth to gesture at her bare chest, and raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Yuna said almost as if she was in a trance.
“Then turn around.”
Yuna scrambled to her feet without standing up fully, spun a hundred and eighty degrees, and fell forward, catching herself on her elbows. Her knees followed her up and with that her ass was presented.
“Good,” Gahyeon said as she took her shirt and bra off entirely, “Now what exactly would you like me to do?”
“Uuuh…”
“Finger you? Tease you?” Gahyeon dropped her pants, climbing out of them and onto the bed behind Yuna. “I can let you take charge. Maybe I shouldn't have told you to turn around?”
Yuna shook her head. “N-no, nope, it would be better with you in charge.”
“Just give me a little bit of guidance then. I could have sworn you were asking for this.”
Gahyeon slid her hands up Yuna’s back, nails first, leaving white lines that quickly faded back into the approximation of porcelain that this new canvas was made of. Over and over again, Gahyeon reminded herself that Yuna was very pretty, and tried to use that to make herself forget the annoying parts. The fact that she was still thinking about them as she gripped Yuna’s tits didn’t bode well, but many three-plus-somes with Sua and Yoohyeon taught her the virtue of perseverance through annoying sex partners. Yuna was a very pretty canvas that needed to learn some manners.
In-depth lessons would come later though, after Gahyeon showed Yuna what her reward had the potential to be. “Well?”
Yuna's breaths got heavy as Gahyeon’s hands continued to wander, shifting between teasing touches and firm pressure. “I… I, um.”
"You want this?"
Yuna shook all over. She bit her lip and nodded.
Gahyeon breathed across Yuna’s ear, sending a deep shiver down her spine. “Tell me, then.”
“I d-don’t know what to say,” Yuna whined, groping blindly behind herself for Gahyeon’s arms.
Gahyeon pressed her chest against Yuna’s back and grabbed her hands, twirling their fingers together in a cruel, teasing dance. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, for starters.”
“It’s… hard to say.” Yuna arched her back, pushing her ass into Gahyeon��s hips. Her breath spiked over and over.
Gahyeon let her arms go mostly slack. “Then guide me there.”
With no small amount of hesitation, Yuna pulled Gahyeon’s hands tighter around herself and onto her ribs, moving them in a slow, jerking way down until they were between her legs. “Here.”
“I see. So you want me to touch your pussy? Your clit?”
Yuna whined even harder. She pushed insistently on Gahyeon’s limp fingers. “Both.”
“Both? That’s not how I phrased the question. It’s your pussy.” Gahyeon pressed one finger against Yuna’s entrance, earning a gasp. “Or your clit.” She pressed Yuna’s button with another finger, which all but made Yuna double over. Only then did Gahyeon wonder if she was technically providing incorrect information by distinguishing the body parts as separate.
“Oooh my g—My clit! Touch my clit…”
In a flash, Gahyeon took her hand back, licked her middle finger, and put it back, steadily swirling around Yuna’s clitoris. Yuna had to reach back and hang on to Gahyeon’s thighs to keep herself from falling. Her twitches, jerks, and shaky breathing were fun, and exactly what Gahyeon needed to get over her annoyance, at least for a while.
“I’m going to do the same thing with my tongue now, okay?”
Yuna shot up onto her hands. “Your t-tongue?”
Gahyeon circled Yuna’s clit with her finger, making her moan and tense up. She lowered her face so her mouth would be obscured, and the air from her every word would brush across Yuna’s pussy. “I might accidentally touch you with my lips too, if you’re okay with that. I promise I’ll be soft and gentle.”
“O-okay?”
Figuring that Yuna wouldn’t be giving her any more confident a response than that, Gahyeon leaned in further, gathering up extra spit as she went. She pressed the end of her tongue to Yuna’s clit, not hard, but somewhat firmly.
“O-oh," Yuna cooed and took a deep breath, "that’s pretty much just like your finge—”
Gahyeon swirled her tongue around Yuna’s hood, and the girl squirmed back and up out of range with a comically loud gasp. Gahyeon smiled internally. She knew what that was about. The shock of a good time could occasionally make one run away.
"Oh no," she said sarcastically, "You didn't like it. I'm sorry."
Yuna scrambled to get back in place, nearly kicking Gahyeon in the face. "No! I-I liked… please do it again?" There was desperation oozing out of her puppy dog eyes.
"Fine. Just be sure to tell me how you’re feeling, yeah?" She really wanted to hear Yuna try to describe being eaten out with her limited sexual vocabulary.
"I'll try…"
"Yes, just be as descriptive as you can, okay? I’ll adjust as needed."
Yuna nodded quickly. It was pretty clear that she just wanted Gahyeon to start again, so Gahyeon did, very, very, very slowly. She wet her tongue and barely touched it to Yuna's clit.
Again, Yuna flinched. This time Gahyeon was sure it was in anticipation. She looked up through the mild cleavage to give Yuna a reminder.
"Uh! Good! It felt good!"
Gahyeon touched again, but snaked her arms around Yuna’s legs to keep her in place. Another twitch, but smaller. Yuna was trying to contain herself. Gahyeon dragged her tongue slowly left and right. Trying to hold back wasn’t easy.
"It's… good."
Yuna's body language said much more than "good" though. She wanted more. Her eyes were fixed on Gahyeon. Her toes curled and uncurled against Gahyeon’s hips. Her knuckles were white, gripping the blanket. Her lungs shuddered with each brand new sensation that popped its way through her nerves. Goosebumps rose and fell and rose and rose and fell and rose. She had to be putting immense effort into holding still.
"Good."
Upping the ante, Gahyeon swirled again, catching the underside of Yuna's hood. Yuna twitched hard, and for a brief moment her eyes rolled up. Her breath was stuck, but it came unstuck with a second swirl, and exited Yuna's mouth in the form of a pained whimper. That was what Gahyeon was looking for.
"You like?"
"Good! It was so good! Please do it again!" Yuna’s inhibition was faltering.
"Tell me more." Gahyeon didn't pretend to hesitate again. She pressed her tongue under Yuna's hood and down against her clit, wiggling back and forth while keeping herself planted.
"Mmm! I… I don't know what to—OH! AUGH!”
Yuna’s last exclamation was a bit of a surprise, both to Gahyeon and Yuna herself, it seemed, as she quickly covered her mouth, eyes wide.
“Was that a good sound?” Gahyeon asked, already knowing the answer.
Yuna nodded.
“Uncover your mouth, then, and keep it up.”
There was some hesitation in how Yuna followed the instructions as Gahyeon got back to playing with her clit, but she did a little better than simply following. She grasped Gahyeon’s hands, alternated between hitched breaths and primal moans, and tucked her chin toward her chest. 
Every word Yuna tried to say morphed into one of those noises until she came. One long, vulgar scream faded into mewling whimpers.
Gahyeon crawled up Yuna’s body, pecking her along the way and giving her a much longer, wetter kiss on the mouth. Yuna giggled through it all, a little cum-drunk. “So,” Gahyeon said, “that’s one of the basics.”
“The b-basics?”
“Yeah.” Gahyeon twirled onto her back, slipping an arm beneath Yuna to pull her in close.
“Wow…” Yuna muttered.
The two basked in each other’s warmth for a while without a word. Gahyeon shifted a couple of times to try to optimize her comfort, but still mentally bemoaned Yuna’s lack of experience. She would not have minded a bit of reciprocation. A plan to pick up one or two of her usual subs on the way home began to formulate in her head. Jane would certainly be up for a bit of fun.
“Um, Gahyeon?”
Gahyeon stroked Yuna’s hair, around her ear, down her jaw, and to her chin. Yuna smiled and purred a little. Gahyeon returned that smile. “Hm?”
“Thank you for, um… not making fun of me.”
“Don’t thank me for that.” Gahyeon traced half of Yuna’s lower lip. “I made fun of you a little bit when we started. And quite a bit more later, I believe.”
Yuna cautiously placed a hand on Gahyeon’s breast, but got a little bolder and lightly squeezed when Gahyeon smiled. “I just mean most of the time.”
“I guess. I’ll keep in mind that you appreciate that.” Gahyeon giggled as Yuna nuzzled her stomach with her cheek. “Just be clear with people about what you do and don’t like, and you’ll have a… great time.”
Gahyeon’s last words were drawn out over the sound of a buzzing phone. Yuna’s, to be precise. She stretched to get it from the nightstand and saw “RAW” was calling.
“Raw?” Gahyeon asked.
Yuna reluctantly removed her hand from Gahyeon’s boob to take the phone. “That’s Ryujin… sorry. One sec.”
Though it was quiet, the lack of ambient noise made it easy for Gahyeon to hear Ryujin’s loud voice. “Where the hell are you, Yuna? We checked the bathroom.”
“I’m… upstairs.”
“Upstairs? The fuck are you doing upstairs for a whole hour?”
Yuna’s eyes traveled up and down Gahyeon’s body. “Cuddling?”
“Cuddling? For an hour? Yeah right.”
Huge puppy dog eyes met Gahyeon’s, trying to ask for permission. Gahyeon shrugged.
“Wel—”
“I’m cuddling with Gahyeon because we just had sex,” Yuna said, and then immediately snapped her mouth shut and stared into space.
“What?! No you didn’t, you fuckin baby child! You couldn’t handle her!”
Gahyeon watched for a few seconds as Yuna’s shoulders shrunk into her neck while Ryujin berated her.
“... and you’d come running back down the stairs crying—”
“Actually, Ryujin,” Gahyeon spoke loudly, “she’s not bad. You should let her practice on you sometime.”
Gahyeon swore she heard the sound of a pair of spit takes through the phone before it suddenly beeped twice and went silent. She decided not to wait too long for Yuna’s embarrassment to take over, and laid a hand on Yuna’s back. “Care to learn anything else today? If you want to prove what you can do to Ryujin and Yeji, you may need to do to them what I just did to you.”
Thankfully, Yuna’s blush didn’t get too far. “I-I don’t know if I can do any more right now.”
Gahyeon smiled. “As in it’s time to head out or you just want more snuggles?”
Yuna pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and crawled forward, kissing Gahyeon’s lips a few times in rapid succession. “If I say I have to go, can I have your number?”
Gahyeon ran her fingers through Yuna’s hair. “Sure… but the first thing you're going to text me is a safeword for next time.”
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soapoet · 6 months
Text
Who hurt you?
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like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
Shufflemancy: Feelings by EMELINE
This connection could've been so good and had so much potential to last, if it weren't for their near Machiavellian villainy. A power couple is not a dynamic between the crème de la crème who out of the blue and without warning shifts to through their words and actions make the other feel like a foolish peasant who couldn't possibly know better. To treat another like royalty then knock the crown they themselves laid atop your head down seemingly for no reason. Never at all cautious with their words, and worst of all entirely unreceptive of any feedback. Once told they have crossed the line, instead of compassion and asking for forgiveness, the music swells as they justify and explain as though you are but a child, merely overreacting, too emotional to understand and ought to see it from their high and mighty perspective. A person supposed to love you and be worthy of your trust talking down on you from their throne, and in their eyes you see only a heart cold as ice, unrelenting and certain that criticism is a threat and must be stricken down no matter how they claim to love you in the very next breath.
Now, however, they are really feeling the void you left behind when you walked away. For many of you this departure was originally a back and forth, in which you always wound up caught in their net, then escaped, only to be pulled back again. The final time you walked out they did not even flinch, certain you would come back again as always. Time crawled onwards and you were but an echo of the past, slowly fading, and the more days and weeks that flew by the more the feeling of defeat crept up on them. They tried to run, they tried to hide, denying that they had been abandoned. They filled their days with cheer and diversion, perhaps in part to appear at ease upon your return, though mostly because your silence had become deafening and so very frightening.
They're beginning to grow uncomfortable by the tightening of the noose they placed around their own neck when they hurt you. They feel choked up, and in panic they may be lashing out and casting blame everywhere outside of them and treating others poorly. A short fuse breaking their picture perfect image as they rampage at the slightest inconvenience. Unfortunate are those who bear witness to their disgrace and dishonour, but loyal in their steadfast duty to remain at their side knowing that though they're whipped there is good left and needs cleansing to be set free. This seems written in the stars. An important lesson for them to learn and take to heart. To face their shadow boldly and cut out the pieces that serve neither them, others, or the world. A purge is happening, in which they must overcome their own terrors and transmute them to light and make right the wrongs of the past. This can take some time, but you may hear from them, but not until the apologies are sincere and forgiveness may be bestowed upon them truly.
Additional details: substance abuse, red and orange, spicy food, birds (jays and chickens in particular), pigs, hedgehogs, discord servers and other groups of people (guilds and factions, group chats, etc.), upbeat music, travelling, blocked, disgust, unhealthy push and pull, twinflame terminologies, church, large gatherings, parties, family, parents, ex partners, LDR, Capricorn/Scorpio/Aquarius/Pisces, Pluto/Mars/Moon, 4H/5H/8H, January/April/September/December.
02.
Shufflemancy: Someone you loved by Lewis Capaldi
It really felt like the rug was pulled from beneath your feet. Out of nowhere, no less. You were lead to believe everything was good and fine and sudden the image shattered overnight, leaving you cornered in a room full of broken glass. Paralysed, shaking from anger and hurt and with no escape. It can seem as though your whole life was turned upside down. Like you no longer knew what or who you could trust. The burdens so much heavier on your shoulders as the whip cracks, signaling demands for you to run, run faster than ever before, with no direction other than "away". A door slammed in your face with a pocketful of change and the rains cruelly pouring down on your parade.
But, it had been alright. Right? Scrambling to figure out where things went wrong, at what part of the journey did you stumble away from the path, where did you stray? A search for answers yields only more questions to keep you up at night. Replaying the past like a favourite record, coming to find you no longer remember the lyrics and no song sounds familiar to you. What has become of this person? In your mind they are growing blurry though you hear their words so clearly. Afraid you'll forever be haunted by them and their cruel words and schemes. You look to other people who bore witness to this crime and find wolves in sheep's clothing in every previously kind smile, who now look upon you with disgust and turn away. You've never felt so alone and hopeless, forced to limp away to lick your wounds in the dark where hopefully nobody will find you and hurt you again.
Perhaps little birdies whispered in their ears, long enough to fuel any resentment held within to erupt in your face. Somebody who used to care and be so kind and promised to take care of you, suddenly switching to someone unrecognisable to you. You'll survive, I promise you this, and this ordeal will teach you greater independence so that never will you have to face something like this again. They will journey on with serpents and delude themselves into thinking they did what's right, and one day the little birdies will whisper in different ears to their demise and they will find themselves in your point of view. Perhaps then they will realise their wrongs and truly understand. By then you will be stronger and shine brighter, out in the world living a good life, and you will have the grace they did not and accept closure with no ill will. But until then it is okay for you to cry and scream of how much you hate their guts.
Additional details: Instruments, boxes, CDs and DVDs, childhood nostalgia, baby animals, creaky stairs, the smell of petrichor, rings, social work/healthcare, mental health concerns, sleepovers, long hair cut short, striped or mismatched socks, phone calls, short distance travel, siblings or cousins or other relatives your age, colleagues, brown/green eyes, trinkets/charms, exes and authority figures, Cancer/Sagittarius/Leo/Aries, Sun/Ascendant/Mercury, 4H/6H/11H, February/October/November.
03.
Shufflemancy: Famous last words by My chemical romance
This was messy from the very start. You may think now that, surely, this should never have happened at all. Retracing your steps wondering how and why and where you took this strange and awful detour. And why did it leave you so broken? At the time it was not supposed to be so serious, it was fun and games but you began losing every round. No matter the strategy you could simply never win and it was becoming no fun at all and you wanted out of the game. Yet they continued to cast the dice of your fate, and you were left hopelessly scrambling for even a semblance of stability. In fact, you were the one to provide such things, weren't you? At their lowest you dropped what you were doing to provide solutions to their problems so that they would not slip into despair. You devoted yourself to their issues, and they not at all to yours. Your grievances were inconvenient at best, frustrating and somehow a thorn in their side at worst. For some of you, this could've been a long-term friendship which came crumbling down out of the blue and left you shattered though it may have had more control of your life than you originally thought.
And after all you did, they did not choose you. Perhaps they chose another, or ran back to an old flame, like a moth towards a brighter light when they were done dimming yours through their words and actions, or lack of either. For some, their regards for you were altered or manipulated by people you could consider foes. This severance of ties was quick and left you shaken, even for those of you to whom this connection was very new still, and looking back had not been given the time to fully grow roots. Yet once it was uprooted, you took it worse than anticipated and you really were left wondering how they grew their vines around your heart and mind so fast. For many, there can be an element of extra grievance in the form of having known somebody in their quarters was a problem or a threat to your union. Like you were certain that the vultures would come to get their picking if you ever turned away for mere seconds too long, so seeing this person run into the arms of somebody you had on your radar despite their hollow reassurances could've exasperated your sense of betrayal. It is one thing to feel in your gut what could come and fear it from afar, and another to see it come to pass just as you had feared.
This was by no means an easy shift, but one which lead you to learn many important lessons. Your boundaries seem clearer now and you won't as easily let them be stepped on. Whilst you picked up the pieces left scattered on the floor, you took extra care to pick up only those that would serve you and your future. Any gossip or ill will you have directed elsewhere and chosen not to dig deeper, knowing you would only hurt yourself returning to the depths of obsession. Now you look for red flags they taught you, while they desperately search for you in those they meet, helplessly needing somebody to run their life the way you did with such tenacity and grace. There is no telling whether they ever will realise that the reason why their world falls apart every other Tuesday is because of their own words and actions, and I pity those who fall trap into the place you once called yours as it does not seem to be a position of any stability and longevity. At least you've come out of this stronger and firmer in your stance of who you want around and what you do and do not tolerate, and I applaud you for that. Should this be an old friend who one day asks for forgiveness, you may grant them that without lowering the drawbridge completely.
Additional details: sunshine, leather jacket, tinder or other dating apps, childhood friends, blonde or light brown hair, puppies, instagram, psychology, roses and sunflowers, photography, cosplay, glow ups, new adventures and experiences, growing up faster after time of hindered growth, university, book series, fandom spaces, tumblr, Scorpio/Sagittarius/Libra/Gemini, Saturn/Jupiter/Uranus/Moon, 3H/5H/9H/12H, March/July/November/December.
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