Please, He Can Use Me Any Day And I'd Say Thank You- LIKE HE'D HAVE SUCH A SWEET TONE BUT?? LIKE DAMN-

Please, he can use me any day and I'd say thank you- LIKE HE'D HAVE SUCH A SWEET TONE BUT?? LIKE DAMN-

"spikes on his wings."

Imma definitely add him to the 2nd part of the men of honkai's favourite sex position-

Part 1 of their fav sex position!

- HSR/HI3

- Bungou Stray Dogs (ask my friends they’ll know I’m obsessed)

- Anything Paranormal (I’m a big skeptic in the community)

- Music (bands, instruments)

- My job

I saw this meme going around on twitter and I think it'll be perfect for this account.

List 5 topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material.

WOO I’M FIRST :D 🎉 🎉 🎉

Spot on tho bc the first character I ever simped for was Serval

For the yan! matchups can you do me??

I joined hsr bc my friends were playing it + a lot of the hi3 characters I loved were in the game (male or female btw idc)

hi! thanks for following and being my first matchup.

Your match is Serval Landau

Serval didn’t know how these feelings came about to be. you just started off as a customer, someone that reminded her of the old Cocolia before things turned south.

it’s just an innocent spark of interest would frizz away over time. but soon Serval hope that it would be you again whenever the door chimes to her workshop would rings.

it never happened so the blonde decided to give up and just leave it to destiny.

one day, gepard stroll in with a younger silverman guard and she felt the air leave her lungs when her eyes caught sight of you.

you’ve been assigned to her younger brother’s team all this time.

serval felt secretly relieved and happy at the second time of igniting a relationship.

but why did she feel so jealous of gepard’s relationship with you?

as if i dont have enough wips to think abt, the thought of figure skater!blade is in my head....

like,,,, just imagine him in the figure skating attire, in a form-hugging black muscle tee which flatters his physique and grey sweats during practice, in a pretty black or navy body shirt with matching slim-fit trousers — should there be any accessories other than his signature mismatch pair of earrings, it would consist of gold trimmings and crimson accents for small, intricate detailings, sometimes a few sequins or crushed jewels would be added depending on the genre of performance.

(oftentimes he will silently revel in your awe at each of his new costumes, his confidence boosting at your approval. if you're there to watch his practice in the rink, he will go the extra mile to show off in hopes of impressing you. if no one else is occupying the rink, he will skate his way over to you before taking your hand, pulling you along with him after getting you into your own pair of skates, his hand entangled with yours as he gently spins you into his arms. he doesn't let go of you; if you fall and tumble onto the ice, then he will gladly go down with you if it means he can still hold you.)

imagine him with his hair in differing styles; sometimes he will leave it loose and flowy, other times he will have it styled in a half-bun or ponytail. during competitions he will have a hair ornament more often than not, one which compliments his chosen costume and genre, with fans wondering how secure it must be to not fall out with all the jumps and spins he does.

(if you ask, he will let you play and fiddle with his hair. he finds himself relaxing at your slightest of touch, the tenseness of his muscles melting away from your warmth, scent, and laughter. sometimes he will ask for you to be the one who styles his hair before a competition, proudly wearing the hair ornament and style you yourself chose for him. if anything, he finds himself performing better when there is a remnant of you with him out on the rink.)

imagine him in a big puffer jacket, his mask-covered face tucked behind the collar with his hands stuffed into the pockets as he makes his way to the venue. it is all-white with black trimmings and stops just below his knees. there's not a moment where he isn't seen without it — as he walks to the venue, as he waits for his turn to come up, as he goes about in public, as he sits in the 'kiss and cry' awaiting his score from the judges, as he slouches against his chair in the changing room before and after his performance; the only time he is seen without his signature puffer jacket is when he is on the rink.

(blade likes the sight of you in his clothes, his puffer jacket in particular. he likes the way it swallows you in your entirety, the way your eyes shine and laughter tinkles with delight makes his heart swell when showing him how far past your hands the sleeves go, and the way both your conjoined hands easily fit inside his pocket, to name a few. but most of all, blade likes the way your scent lingers on the fabric, eventually developing a habit of burying his nose along the inside collar to bask in what remains when you can't be with him pre-competition. in those moments, he makes a mental reminder to have you wear it again so that your lingering perfume can refresh.)

yeah... figure skater!blade.....

I got you.

Synopsis: reluctantly going to a party, you're offered a drink by a persistent creep despite your refusal. But no worries, your best friend is there to help.

Genre: fluff (modern au!)

Character: Best friend!Blade x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, tension between you and Blade, partying, all characters mentioned here are as of age. Blade takes a hit (drink) for you lol. Reader wears heels.

Both you and Blade were not ones to attend parties regularly. Instead, both of you often preferred the tranquility of your own dorm or the serene sounds of nature and music, rather than the cacophony of loud, unpleasant remixes of popular songs or the aroma of cigarettes and alcohol.

Despite the constant pleas from both Kafka and Silver Wolf for you and Blade to "live a little" and "socialize," the two of you reluctantly agreed. As soon as you both stepped foot into the party, the overpowering smell of alcohol and the unmistakable odor of someone's vomit assaulted your senses, causing you to cringe slightly.

"Oh god, this smells awful," you muttered to Blade, who nodded with a furrowed brow in agreement.

"Can we leave?" He glanced at the plastic red cups littering the floor, expressing his dissatisfaction with a grunt when someone accidentally bumped into him while walking past.

"We did promise Kafka and Silver Wolf we'd come. We can't back out now," you shrugged, feeling uncomfortable amid the overcrowded gathering.

"I'm gonna go and look for Kafka," you sighed, giving Blade's shoulder a gentle nudge. "Care to join?"

"I'll just stand in a corner," he replied, his expression deadpan as he surveyed the scene of inebriated youths. His hands instinctively delved into his pockets, retrieving his phone. "I'd rather not hunt them down either, or they'll rope me into playing pool or some other nonsense."

With a pout, you rolled your eyes and ventured into the sea of people. Navigating through, you murmured small apologies each time you bumped into someone.

The shitty TikTok blue lights only made it worse, casting an eerie glow and making it harder to avoid the random liquids (that you really hoped weren't more vomit or some other disgusting shit) on the floor.

"Where the hell are they?" you muttered to yourself, feeling increasingly lost in the chaotic party scene. Somehow, you stumbled your way into the host's kitchen, hoping for a moment of respite.

As you pondered your next move, someone tapped your shoulder, jolting you out of your thoughts. "Huh— Kafka— oh," you began, turning around to find yourself face to face with a stranger you've never encountered before. Arching an eyebrow, you tilted your head inquisitively. "Can I...help you?"

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to startle you," the guy offered a small smile, shaking his head in understanding. You took note of his wavy brown locks and the plain button-up he wore, but your focus remained on finding your friends rather than anything else. "Are you looking for something? You seem lost."

Feeling a tad embarrassed, you chuckled nervously. "Oh, uh... I'm just trying to find my friends. Um... Kafka and Silver Wolf, you know them?"

"Ah, those two. I think I saw them at the ping pong table in the backyard," he replied.

"Thanks," you nodded dryly, averting your gaze. Just as you were about to leave, he spoke once again.

"Drink?" he smirked, holding out a cup of what you assumed was beer or something.

"I don't drink," you waved him off, feeling a little uncomfortable now as he pushed the cup towards you. "I'm not into alcohol, dude."

"That's a shame. It tastes good," he remarked, letting out a huff as he continued to hold out the drink to you. "It's actually a good thing to be able to tolerate alcohol, you know? It's useful for business parties and making friends."

You frowned, staring at him skeptically and then at the cup with uncertainty. Were you easily persuaded? No. But the way he was yapping right now made you feel the urge to just drink it and get it over with. However, you weren't foolish enough to do something so reckless. "I never said I had a bad tolerance, I just said I'm not into alcohol."

"Just a sip wouldn't hurt—" the man persisted, but before he could finish his sentence, a low voice interrupted.

"Thanks for the drink."

A chill ran down your spine as a hand appeared behind you, swiftly grabbing the drink from your shoulder. It then looped around your neck, pulling you into a loose chokehold. Your eyes widened in recognition and apprehension as you realized who it was.

"Blade—?" you gasped, feeling a mixture of surprise and annoyance as he continued to hold you in his grasp. His red eyes narrowed into a menacing glare, causing the other man to back off with a mumbled excuse as he hastily left the kitchen, leaving you and Blade alone.

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought you said you were gonna stand in a corner," you whined, lightly tapping Blade's arm to prompt him to release you. He simply shrugged, rolling his eyes before letting go and raising the cup to his lips.

"I was trying to find the toilet until I saw a shit-stained towel in the tub and lipstick smudges on the damn toilet lid. Lost my urge to pee," he grunted, taking a sip from the cup.

"Wait, don't drink that—" you nagged, suddenly worried that the drink might contain something harmful. But before you could finish, Blade turned around and spat out the drink into the sink, coughing in disgust. "Oh my god."

"Did he fucking pour apple cider vinegar in here? This tastes like shit!" Blade groaned, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he hurled the cup into the sink. "He sucks at hooking up ladies if he hands out godforsaken drinks like these."

"Stupid," you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you rummaged through the kitchen, searching for a glass of water for Blade. "I thought you hated drinking. Why on earth did you do that?"

Blade wiped his mouth, turning on the tap to rinse his mouth with water. "Figured that if the drink did contain drugs, I'd be the best subject to test it on," he muttered, offering you a silent thanks as you handed him the glass of water.

"That's dangerous," you frowned, crossing your arms and watching him run a hand through his hair as he drank the water.

"I didn't want to risk you getting drugged either," he added quietly.

A moment of silence enveloped the kitchen, interrupted only by the corny music blaring in the background as the lights gradually faded to a deep red hue.

The two of you stood in the kitchen, with Blade hovering over the sink and you leaning against the counter, savoring the rare moments of tranquility.

Lost in your own thoughts, you zoned out, gazing downward and fixating on nothing in particular, longing for nothing more than to be back home.

Meanwhile, Blade stole glances at you from the corner of his eyes, his expression unreadable amidst the dimly lit ambiance.

"Let's just go home," he suddenly blurted out, swiftly washing the cup and stowing it away. "Screw those two."

You lifted your head to look at him, uncrossing your arms in agreement. "Yeah," you mumbled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at the suggestion.

He noticed your discomfort, his gaze drifting down to the outfit you wore and the heels on your feet. "They hurt?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the blaring speakers.

Confusion clouded your expression as you struggled to hear him amidst the loud music. He sighed, gesturing towards your heels. "Your heels. Are they hurting your feet?" he repeated, more insistently this time. When you still didn't catch on, he groaned and suddenly dropped to his knees, his hands gently brushing against your calves as he lifted one foot.

"What the fuck—" you began, startled by his sudden action, your eyes widening in disbelief. "Blade!"

"Take 'em off," he mumbled, his voice softer now as he noticed a small bruise on the back of your ankle, evidence of the discomfort caused by your tight shoes.

"Dumbass! I'm not stepping out of here barefoot with all that disgusting shit on the floor!" you yelled, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the sight of him down on his knees for you. Your hands tightened their grip on the counter as you watched him slide off your heels.

"I'll carry you then," he retorted, his tone determined as he lifted you by the hips, effortlessly settling you on the counter so your feet wouldn't touch the grimy floor.

"You—" you began to retaliate, but your words fell silent as you were rendered speechless by his offer. "You..."

"C'mon," he urged, pursing his lips as he turned around, positioning himself for you to piggyback him. "You better get on before I change my mind. You know I don't do favors like this," he sneered, his tone teasing yet firm.

You gulped, feeling a mixture of nerves and gratitude as your hands trembled while gripping onto his shoulders. With shaky breaths, you wrapped your legs around his waist as you felt his hands slide under your thighs to support you, letting out a grunt of effort.

"...am I not heavy?" you whispered, your breath grazing the shell of his ear.

He shook his head, standing up straight now. The scent of his cologne somehow managed to calm your nerves as you rested your head against his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace.

"No. I literally bench double your weight," he reassured you.

"No need to flex."

He piggybacked you through the crowd, disregarding the stares directed at him, while you felt awkward and embarrassed under the attention. He couldn't care less, knowing that most of the crowd was either too drunk to remember or too preoccupied with their own activities.

"Next time, just stay by my side," he whispered, finally stepping outside of the party.

"Mm...yeah, yeah," you yawned, your voice muffled by the softness of his jacket. "Thanks."

"And don't chug down the drinks next time."

"Yeah, yeah."

PLS I SAW THAT FIC TOO AND WAS GROSSED OUT

Like when I read fics I imagine myself as the character-I don’t want to imagine myself being his sister thats just gross

Idk I’ve been SAed myself and personally I hate SA fics because it makes me feel worse abt myself??

Like if anyone supports incest feel free to unfollow/block me, idc

EDIT: The creator replied to all of the haters so ima just say a few things,

1. We all said smth after alex said smth bc we were all afraid of speaking up

2. “block words” “block the user”, theres always focs that escape the words & blocking the user is a short term probably because eventually someone else will create it and its very annoying

3. I didn’t read the fic, I got very uncomfortable just bu reading the title & tags seeing “non-con” & insest”

ps. the whole non-con thing u tagged doesnt excuse the insest

earlier i saw an Aventurine x reader smut fanfic in which the reader is his sister and i just had to SAY SOMETHING even if i expect no one to give a fuck

Its not the first time im seeing someone fetishize incest and write about it as if its normal? again with the disgusting non-con as well (but thats a different topic)

making a character a really disgusting person to fill their own sick fantasies and having the confidence to post it on here as if its something commonly accepted

that isnt the big issue tho, theres many sick people on the platform.

my problem with this is that i saw exactly 2 people, other than me who complained in the comments of that fanfic and expressed how disgusted they are, calling the author sick etc etc

it has over 150 likes at the moment, if you, reading this, remember reading it and enjoying it just know youre gross, sick and disgusting just like the author

im not the first and i wont be last person to talk about this but if you have weird fetishes that doesnt fucking mean you have to share them with others, hope this helps <3

i tell you when i saw that post my jaw was ON THE FLOOR

ive seen many weird fanfics but hey i had not seen an incest one in a while

before anyone says "its a trauma response" "people deal this way with trauma and SA" bs just know i do not give a fuck, you can deal with all the trauma you have in private! just like everyone else

non-con is weird as it is, but writing about incest? you are going too far and you have issues in the head, you dont have to share it and spread it on a platform where people may think this shit is normal

go get therapy instead