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#but that’s not the reasons that HE would use
serialunaliver · 2 days
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biden's desperation in banning tiktok makes the entire thing more concerning to me than if it were something on the backburner everyone knew would never go anywhere.
he tied it with aid to israel to guarantee the bill made it through the senate. amidst all that is happening, banning fucking tiktok is a serious priority to him, which makes me inclined to believe there's a lot worse coming regarding censorship than currently known to the public--the bill before this one would've allowed the US government to ban social media with no other reason than "we think it's connected to xyz", no evidence presented. it wasn't exclusive to china either, it involved every US adversary, a list of countries which could be expanded whenever the government wanted. the bill failed to pass but it was backed by many including biden.
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vexingwoman · 2 days
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One of the things that makes arguing with men so much more draining than arguing with women is the unequal distribution of credibility and contribution.
Somehow, whenever I argue with men, it always falls upon me to both prove my own claims, and to disprove his, while he does neither; his only obligation seemingly to dole out whatever ungrounded assertions he conjures up on the spot. Somehow, it is always wordlessly established that anything I say is false until proven true, while anything he says is true until proven false.
This same dynamic happened again over on tiktok, when a man claimed women are just as violent as men. Automatically, almost as if by muscle memory, I offered up the usual statistics on male depravity: men constituting 99% of rapists, 99% of mass shooters, 98% of killers, 95% of serious domestic abusers. And his only response was to say those statistics were wrong. No elaboration; wrong simply because he said so.
I already knew how the entire conversation would pan out: I’d give him my source, he’d find a reason to discredit the source, then I’d scour the internet to find a source that suited his standards, which he’d inevitably find a reason to discredit too.
So instead I simply said, “Prove the statistics are wrong.” And that was the only thing I responded with henceforth: prove it, prove I’m wrong, prove you’re right. Thus reversing the dynamics and positing that anything I said was true unless he demonstrated otherwise; unduly putting all the onus on him while I did nothing other than decide whether he was convincing me of claims thoroughly enough—and if he wasn’t, it just meant I was winning, of course.
He blocked me, and so far so have all the other men I’ve used this approach on. I don’t know whether it’s because they couldn’t actually disprove my claims or because they couldn’t stand to be treated the same way they treat women in debates. But I think more women should do this. Stop wasting energy proving your points to men, and start making them prove theirs to you.
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hoshigray · 1 day
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Request! Geto never had to worry bc reader basically never interacts with guys. That 3we until he saw her hugging her male coworker and now he has to put her in place if ykiwm😋
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh yikesss, possessive sugu incoming, oof. lmao this is lowkey like the one i did for my kinktober, but what the hell
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; Geto is a jujutsu tech sorcerer - shibari; rope bondage (cross-chest box tie, frogtie) - sex toys; use of a vibrator - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pleasure denial - mild possessive behavior - pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love, sweetie) - cameo: Gojo - mention of drool/saliva.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k
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“Hahhh…ahhaa, Sug’ruu, I can’t…Mmm!”
“Aww, are you feeling well, my love? You look awful.”
And whose fault would that be?
Geto removes his jacket to put aside one of the chairs of the many desks. He stretches his sides and cracks his neck, releasing a massive sigh after a long inhale. He’s now relaxed that he’s back in his classroom. 
However, he isn’t the only one here. Someone he knows is here with him — waiting for him to return. And Geto’s lips curl into a smile once he looks down to see someone on the cold wooden floor.
You were in nude form, clothes sprawled to the side of you. A long red rope contorts around your body, binding your arms behind your back with your wrists tied together. Your thighs and ankles were restricted together; the red ropes tied the leg together to that of a frog-like position. And a red blindfold covers your line of sight. You were whining and writhing in this bounded position. Why? 
Geto slowly walks around you to take in the view, noticing that the vibrators he placed on your body were still where he had left it. Your nipples had a vibrator taped on to each, and the buzzing noises made Geto’s skin crawl. There was another set of bullet vibrators buzzing down south. Three white wires are connected to a remote lying on the floor, and they seem to be stuffed inside the wet entrance of your chasm. So, five vibrators are teasing your body all at once. What a hell. 
He comes down to your level, bringing you up with a hand to lie on his propped knee, and your breathing so low and hushed. “How are you feeling, angel?” He lifts the blindfold to have you peek at him, noticing your eyes are puffy and wet. Poor thing was crying for him.
“Sugu…” You called him by his nickname, a tool in hopes of getting on his good side. “Can you…please…”
Dark eyebrows raise, “Please what, pretty girl?” He shields your eyes again and slithers his hand down from your chin to your neck, and he loves how your breathing lessens when he approaches your breasts. He pulls off one taped vibrator to free the bud. For a moment before he blows on it, “What do you want from me?”
“Can I—Ohh!” His tongue flicks your nipple; it’s so sensitive and sore! “Can I please…cum…?”
“Ahh, what a dirty girl,” Geto chuckles to you as he kisses your mound, his hand now traveling further down to the three wires on the floor. He gently pulls one, a loud noise of one vibrator bumping into another. “You were doing so well being patient for me. I have one more meeting, baby; why can’t you wait after that?”
Your breathing gets shaky, leaning towards his frame to get through. “Because...Mmmm, I want you to make me feel—Ohh…! Good...”
“Is that right?” More laps around your nipple before he sucks it in. “You want me to make you feel good? Not Satoru?” You gulped at the mention of the other’s name, feeling Geto’s intense, indigo gaze on your face. 
In all honesty, Geto admits he can be a jealous man — especially regarding you, his sweet angel. The reason why you’re in this situation is because your partner saw you hug another man yesterday. Satoru Gojo, the dark-haired man’s best friend of all people! Granted, it was because you were only giving a gift of sweets to the tall sorcerer because he came back from a terrible, dangerous mission with Geto. And the white-haired fool, oblivious to personal space as always, brought you in for a hug as he thanked you for the bag of sweets you handed him. 
Putting his hands on you did make Geto unpleasant, yet this was Gojo we were talking about; the guy acts like personal boundaries don’t apply to him. However, what did upset the man more was you reciprocating the embrace with a cheerful smile — a smile only Geto was to bear witness to. It twinged his heart – cliche, but it did. You toyed with his feelings, and he had to correct you for such behavior. 
The man increases the intensity of the vibrators inside your cunt, and your body jerks unexpectedly. He then slides a finger inside your vagina to play around your walls with the toys, and you have to remind yourself not to scream as his fingertips scrape the velvet texture. “You hurt my feelings, sweetie,” he listens to your whimpers get higher and higher as he increases the speed of his finger. “You know I’m not one for sharing — especially with Satoru.” 
“Hahhh, Sugu’uuu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ You press your lips together to suppress a moan once Geto takes your nipple back into his mouth, pushing the nub to the roof of his mouth and skimming it with his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes your frame at the addition of another finger inside you, and more tears well up from how much stimulation is happening. “Nmoohh, please, I won’t do it again…”
“You promise?” He whispers into your ear, slowly removing his fingers to increase the intensity of the vibrators inside you. Those same fingers now go to your clit where he swipes in slow circles, and you nearly choke on your spit. “Tell me, who’s my favorite girl?” 
“Mee! I’m y’re favorite…!” Despite the ropes tightening around your ankles and thighs, your lower half still jolts to his touch on your delicate pearl, trying to sway your hips to move with the friction. 
“And who’s your only favorite man in this world?”
“You, Sugu!” Oh, the way you desperately said his nickname was so pathetic to hear — so sweet. He couldn’t stop the sneer from flourishing on his face. “You’re my favorite—Mmmph! Always…”
Good girl. “You wanna come so bad, baby?” His thumb and forefinger rub against your clitoris, evoking cute squeaks to fly out your drooling mouth. You nod hastily; that’s not what he wanted, so he pinches your clit. “Words, pretty girl, words.”
“Yessh, please let me cum, my love…!” Now that’s what he wanted to hear, being all cute and pitiful for him to grant you what you’re craving. And you can feel it coming, your nerves heightened with the climb of your orgasm.
But then, you sense his fingers gone from your clit, the cold air occupying their absence. Instead, he puts the vibrator that once teased your nipple back and rests your figure onto the cold wooden floor once more. Your brows screw together with quivered lips, “No, pleaseee! Don’t leave me again!” You whined.
Too late, he was adorning his jacket and heading out for the sliding door of the classroom. “I’m sorry, angel, but I gotta get to this meeting first. Don’t make too much noise while I’m gone, okay?” God, you pulled his heart the way you helplessly laid there. “Don’t give me that look, my love. I’ll be right back when it’s done.” He steps outside and closes the door behind him, swiftly locking it while checking for his surroundings.
And it was a good thing he did, too. Because right around the corner came his best friend, Gojo, the blindfolded sorcerer, retrieving the raven-headed other. “Yo, there ya are, Suguru! The meeting’s about to start; don’t slack off before Yaga comes for our heads.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he walks alongside his companion, heading to the other side of the hall. 
“Hmm, by the way, where’s Y/n?” The white-haired man inquires while scratching his ear. “I haven’t seen them since this morning.”
Geto hums to the question, the shrug of his shoulders to seal the deal. “They felt sick all of a sudden, went to go see Shoko to check.”
The taller sorcerer tilts his head with a scoff. “Who said you were a good liar?”
“You’re one to talk.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️
It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.
You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.
But the past two returns home have been… different.
Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.
“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.
After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.
He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?
So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.
The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.
Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.
He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.
“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.
“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.
You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.
Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.
“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.
“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”
“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”
For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”
“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.
“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”
“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”
“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.
None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.
“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”
You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.
Four times the love.
But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.
John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.
Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.
Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.
And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.
Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.
None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.
You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.
So you did the only thing you could.
You hung up.
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Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
------
You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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nadvs · 3 days
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♡ㅤׄㅤִㅤ ୨୧  rafe cameron & his sweetheart girlfriend ✧
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ᝰ rafe didn’t realize just how badly he craved kind, gentle love until he met her. he assumed every relationship he’d be in would be dysfunctional but then this girl, who’s sunshine personified, comes into his life and he has never wanted someone more.
ᝰ he’s a nervous wreck the whole time he pursues her. she’s well aware of his bad reputation and the fact that she takes the time to get to know him with open arms instead of letting gossip influence her makes it all the more clear to him how sincere she is.
ᝰ just because she’s sweet doesn’t mean she takes his shit. rafe is a victim to his own temper at times and when he snaps at her, she calmly tells him to cool down and talk to her about what’s really bothering him. she doesn’t escalate arguments. she talks him down. and he loves her for it.
ᝰ rafe would die of embarrassment if anyone saw what he’s like with her. he loves when she plays with his hair and leaves kisses all over his face. his favorite place in the world is on top of her, his head on her chest, wondering how he got lucky enough to win the heart he hears beating.
ᝰ she’s his best friend and maybe his buddies would give him shit for that, but it’s true. because he has never known a bond like this. not only does he have fun with her, but he actually feels understood for once. eventually, she knows him better than he knows himself.
ᝰ rafe hates crying but he hates it the least when it’s with her. he’s used to being told to toughen up. but she doesn’t do anything of the sort. she holds him, consoles him, keeps her gaze off of him because she knows he hates being looked at when he’s in this state.
ᝰ she’s the first one to say the word love and rafe has never felt happier in his life. he has felt love for her for months, but knows he wouldn’t survive if she didn’t say it back. he kisses her hard, whispering that he loves her over and over, making up for every time he thought it but couldn’t say it.
ᝰ the feeling he gets from having somebody worry about him is unreal. he’s used to being neglected and ignored, but she shows her concern for him in countless ways. she’s always reminding him to drive his motorcycle carefully. he eventually tacks a photo of her on his dash as a reminder not to speed because he has a reason to live now.
ᝰ rafe isn’t surprised that his family adores her. his father mentions something in passing about her being a good apple. she even makes ward crack a smile with one of her jokes every so often. rafe doesn’t know how somebody could be so perfect. he’d love her even without the approval but he’s comforted by the fact that he doesn’t have to worry about it.
ᝰ she sees something in rafe that he doesn’t see in himself. he actually likes who he is around her. he’s still rough around the edges with others, but he’s his most authentic self with her. she’s on his mind all day and he misses her every minute they’re not together. he calls her his angel, because that’s truly what she is to him.
inspired by an ask from @putherup 💘
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hazelfoureyes · 3 days
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Ho, ho, ho~! I hope your vibrators are fully charged, cause this one's gonna have yall going full ahegao~! If not, then you'd best get those babies plugged in before continuing. Consider this your only warning... ;D
"Oh? Have I managed to shut up the big, scary Radio Demon?" You asked, the reaction your movements pulled from Alastor going straight to your head and to your core. A smirk danced across your face as you traced the tips of your fingers from the crevice between his clavicles down his sternum to the indentation of his navel and even further south, following the tufts of hair that was the beginning of his happy trail*.
Eyes shooting open at your little taunt, Alastor raised his head to look at you sitting pretty on his cock, shadows swirling around you and the sclera of his eyes flashing black for just a moment. "Hah! Only in your dreams, my sweet..." he breathed out just before you raised your hips and slammed them back down in the next moment, voice thick with that staticky radio filter that made him stand out from the rest (among other things). He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding in the same manner as your hips on his pelvis. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to compose himself before opening them once more, his sclera having shifted back to their usual red.
"Besides, my voice is one of the things you love best about me. You would- nnghh fuck! ... You would HATE-" Alastor started, feeling a little mischievous as he planted his hooves (feet?) into the bed and delivered a solitary, brutal thrust - one hard enough to knock you forward and force your hands to either side of his head. "-If I stopped talking," he called your bluff, a soft chuckle reverberating through his chest as his other hand found your hip.
"God damn you..." you mumbled, fighting back a smile as you stared down at him. He was right. It was just one thing on a very long list, but his voice was one of your favorite things about him. Even better was the unexpected shock you received whenever he would suddenly drop the radio filter and all you heard was pure, unadulterated Alastor. As if he had been reading your mind, the deer demon pulled you from your thoughts with another thrust and a few words without his famous filter. "God has no place here. You know that," Alastor groaned as you raised your hips, deciding to give him a small taste of his own medicine. Slamming your hips down again, you smirked once more as he released a sharp gasp followed by a drawn out moan as you started to build a pace. "Oh fuuuck meee... D-darling...- nghhhaha...- please-" he moaned out as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room once more.
Alastor raised one of his hands to rest on the back of your head, digits threading themselves through your tangled strands as he began to buck up into you - heavy balls slapping against the fat of your ass with a 'pap! pap! pap!' sound. He drew your face closer to his, pressing your foreheads together while he used you as a cocksleeve, the remnants of your previous releases creating strings connecting his thighs to your ass. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Hoh-ooohh shiiiittt!" He moaned out in time with each thrust, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he started to lose himself once more in the way your sweet pussy clenched and pulsated around his throbbing dick.
"Hah! Hah! Fuh-... uhah!! Ala-... Al-... Hah! Ah!" You cried, nails digging into the sheets beneath his head, losing what little control you had before he started this bruising pace. "Oh fuck, ohhh fuuuckkk..." Alastor breathed out, that familiar knot in the pits of his belly tightening more and more with every slam, every thrust to your soaking cunt. "You're gonna make me-... mmpphhhoh shit! Make me cum!"
* he SO has a happy trail~ I just can't decide if it's red or black. But I KNOW he puts conditioner on it, so it's not all wiry and scratchy when you go down oh him ahaaa~ 🥴
MINK, GURL YOUR MERCY COMMENT WAS ONE OF MY BIGGEST REASONS FOR THINKING UP MORE ADDITIONS OF COURSE YOU'RE IN THE LOOP! You'll never not be in the loop my love, your reactions are pure gold and give me life~! Besides I gotta give something back, make yall feel the same way I do when I read anything you post! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
btw it's literally killing me rn that I can't interact publicly with any of yall's stuff. I wanted to wait until I was in the final stages of writing the planned fics I have for each of you, but I don't think I can hold on to my anonymity much longer! YOUR MINDS ARE JUST SO BEAUTIFUL JFC HOW DID I FIND NOT ONE BUT THREE?! AND IN THE SAME FANDOM?!?! LIKE HOW?!?!?!?!?!
Danny baby your puns have me rolling omfg 🤣 I swear I'mma think of one or bring in some outside help (dad jokes ftw!) that's gonna knock you dead holy shit- BRING IT ON HUNNY PUN. LET'S DO THIS 💖💥 ... I'll see myself out 🤣
- ☄️❤️ Smut Santa
「He drew your face closer to his, pressing your foreheads together while he used you as a cocksleeve」
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あああああ
I LOVE BEING USED AS A COCKSLEEVE HOW DID YOU KNOW SMUT SANTA— SMUNTA? SMANTA. SMUT CLAUS
SAINT DICKOLAUS
Summoning @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes
Also a doe in fall part 6 also has reader riding, heavy balls, and forehead touches??? Get outta my fucking head???
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horrorartsworld · 2 days
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Hey!! A mutual just sent me your fic "A manspreading man" and gosh,,,definitely one of the best steamy Alastor x reader I've read 😩❤ If you're okay with it, could I request an Alastor x shy!reader where a cozy night when neither of them can sleep so they stay up, maybe having tea together too but, they end up getting steamy with each other?,, 😳 Love your work!! ❤❤
𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹
alastor/shy f!reader
warnings: smut w/ a lil fluffies. pet names. kind of primal alastor. p in v. fingering. dub con. not proofread.
aww thank you nonnie baby!! tbh manspreading man was one of my favorites to write so i’m very glad to hear that you liked it so much to request something this lovely & spicy 🤭 got me going back to my roots with writing for al lol, i hope u enjoy <3
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For some odd reason you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that the noises of constant terrors outside and the old sounds of the hotel didn’t have you usually sleeping like a baby it’s just that tonight of all nights seemed different.
Having you tossing and turning like a flopping fish, moments of just staring at the empty ceiling, or throwing a pillow over your face in hopes that you might suffocate yourself to sleep, but none of those seemed to help your ongoing sleep deprivation.
Finally after the last toss you turned you end up throwing yourself out of bed with a huff and your feet seem to oddly enough lead you to none of than Alastor’s quarters right across from your room. The door being slightly cracked enough to let you peak inside, hearing the inviting soft crackly of a jazz record playing and seeing the flicker of a candle going on an end table. Though it seemed very inviting you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt wash over you when you went to approach the door, hugging the blanket you dragged along the way for some kind of support in this. Since you did have a crush on the deer fellow after all and everytime he would come around you would loose all your senses and look like an utter idiot when you’d scurry away from him to save face. In which you were completely committed to doing right now until the door suddenly swung open and you were met with Alastor’s elegantly tall stature.
“Oh!- Well hello my dear..” He speaks surprised to see you standing there holding your blanket in hand, hearing the static in his voice instantly turning your cheeks pink. “What brings you to my door at this hour.?”
You shift on your feet fiddling with your hands in the blanket before speaking, “m’ sorry a-alastor i-i just couldn’t sleep..i’ll be going now..” Your eyes trained on the buttons of his blazer, never meeting his gaze in knowing you’d blush more if you did while you spoke, quickly turning on your heel to make your way back to your room though his clawed hand grabbed your wrist before you could completely make your getaway.
Then you were pulled back to face him, his other hand coming up to your chin to make you look up at him, your cheeks instantly warming up more like you knew they would. “Can’t sleep? You poor thing..I actually have quite the remedy for such things..” He hums, then suddenly letting go of you to grab something from a cupboard leaving you standing there in his doorway.
After a second or two he turns his head to see you standing there sheepishly earning a soft chuckle from him. “Come sit dear..it’ll just be a moment.” He says nodding over to an antique arm chair that sat next to an intricate round table with a matching chair on the other side to go with it.
You shimmy yourself over to it making yourself comfortable on the chair, seeming to feel a bit more relaxed now that you were seated. Alastor then comes to sit down across from you holding two warm teacups that you were sure he used his demon magic to conjure to a certain temp, gesturing it out to you to take. “It’s Chamomile Tea…should do the trick for your sleeplessness..” He says taking his own sip before you did, letting the cup warm up your hands until you tasted it yourself feeling instantly at ease when it went down your throat.
“Wow…that’s good! Thank you Al!” You say with a soft hum and a smile causing Alastor’s smile to look more gentle though something was silently brewing behind those mischievous dial eyes.
“My pleasure my dear…my pleasure indeed..” He takes another sip as there’s a long pause between the two of you. Seeing his gaze over the rim of the cup had wandered down your chest to your hips in an indiscreet way, making your breath slightly falter at the sight.
“S-so…what’re you doing up so late as well?” Your gentle voice hardly above a whisper when you stammer out the question.
“Well I hardly ever sleep..too much to do..and too many folks out there trying to put my head on a mount..” He says nonchalantly in which you nod knowing this was very true with his background, but it was hard to even focus on a simple conversation like this one when his gaze continued its improper cycle along your body.
“Um A-alastor?” You tilt your head down trying to catch his eyes in attempt at getting his attention back by making him realize what he was doing though he already was very much aware what he was doing.
“Hmm? Oh sorry dear, it’s just that…fuck..” He unexpectedly cruses causing your thighs to staple shut when a warmth radiates through your core. Your eyes widening at his outburst, taking note that his chest was rising and falling rather quickly. “W-what’s the matter?” You mutter out confused, big doe eyes searching for some kind of answer on his unreadable face.
A tension brews as a low crackly chuckle escapes from his lips, “You like me don’t you little fawn?”
The unexpected question making a lump form in your throat. Why was he asking this? Were you that obvious? “Going quiet on me now?” His voice rippling through your thoughts with a sense of mocking in his tone. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling…” He trails off then getting up from his chair with a creak from its old legs, rounding the small table to come and tower over you, microphone buzzing when he sets it beside him as he leaned into you very close with ether hands at the sides of you clutching the arms of your chair. “..I’m quite fond of you myself..” He husks, his once static voice turning to his normal one as he leaned into your ear to utter those words.
“Y-you are?” You manage to find your voice again, feeling as if the chamomile tea had already kicked in and you were in a surreal dream.
“Mmm yess..” He practically purrs while he toys with the hem of your sleep shorts before riding it up so he can peer down at your plush thighs that were trembling so desperately to try and keep them sealed shut. Then thumbing over the sensitive flesh there he forces them open with his claws digging into them so he could hoist you up and wrap your legs around his hips to bring you to bed and once he has you there he lays you down with him on top but keeping your legs secured around him. “..Feel how much i yearn for you,” he says almost like a question as you then feel him grind his hard on into your clothed warmth. Your face burning as you nod. “Good girl..Shall I show you what I want to do to you?” once more nodding your head he can’t help the low growl admitting from the back of his throat when he slides a finger under the hem of your shorts and pulls them down towards the floor, primal eyes locking onto the wetness of your panties. The sight making his smile enlarged.
“My, My...so soaked just from that?” He couldn’t help but tease, in one single motion ripping your panties off, discarding them just like the shorts.
A low humming buzz is heard when Alastor gets a full view of your needy slick. Pretty pussy, all puffy and red, begging for a good fuck. You couldn’t help instinctively attempt at closing your legs once more with how vulnerable you were infront of him, but he holds them open forcefully with his hands. “Sweetheart..no need to shy away from me…i’m gonna make you feel so good..” you whimper softly just by those cooed words alone, along with the two fingers that were now invading your entrance. The sensation making your body shake as he did it without warning, moving in slow in and out strokes with his fingers, making wet sloshy noises with the air with your hushed whimpers. His fingers feeling like they were so far inside that they’ve reached max capacity…Was his fingers always this long?
“Al-al!..” You whine breathlessly, an all too familiar feeling stirring beneath your tummy with your cunt clenching around his fingers, but he immediately stops just before you could fully come undone.
“Not yet...” He hums with a knowing smile, gently patting your cheek with the other hand. You pout at this though that was quickly replaced when his fingers come in contact with his mouth, softly slurping up the left slick on his fingers, before he crashes his lips on yours, long tongue invading your space making you taste the tangy yet neutral flavor of your own arousal, all while your hips rut against his own in hopes to get that feeling back of your lost euphoria.
Finally getting the hint from your movements he pulls back and takes out his cock, tantalizing tapping it against your aching slit before fully pressing it into your already awaiting pussy. A loud enough cry following with his cock stretching you out with it’s full enough size, reaching much farther lengths then his fingers did. “Such a snug little thing you are,” He hisses while rutting into you, your body bouncing and recoiling with every thrust.
Your head falls back into the mattress, mumbling curses under your breath as the feeling was driving you mad, making him chuckle as you seem to squeeze him in tighter. “You like that..the way my cock just goes in…and out..” He groans as he emphasizes the in and out part by going slow and hard, his cock hitting the wall of your cervix even when he goes slow. “Hey..let me see those pretty fucked out eyes..” he growls lowly, “Atta girl..,” his finger leaning your chin down to look at him, the sight of him so sinful it almost made you come undone on the spot.
His ears flat amongst his head, eyes low and focused and his lip curled almost in a smirk with sweat lining his forehead. You wanted that imagine burned in your brain, which you couldn’t help but admit in your slur of babbles passing from your lips, which only made him fuck you even harder. “Mphmm, yeah? Burned in your brain huh..? That can be arranged..” He snickers genuinely considering haunting you with this imagine from time to time just to make you squirm.
Soon enough, the tightening of your tummy comes back once more and your walls contracts around Alastor’s cock harder then you’d expect. The cum creaming down his cock and dripping onto his sheets beneath you though his pace and speed never lets up. If anything it becomes more impactful as he works up his own orgasm, with you feeling overly sensitive.
His claws dig into your hips as his own snaps ferociously against yours and your post-cumming expression floating in your big eyes was enough to have him over the edge. “I’m gonna make you feel nice and full okay sweetheart?” He seethes out as his hips sputter and he spills his load into your spent little womb.
Slowly pulling out and away, he makes a towel appear in his hand to help you clean up. A soft whimper making its way out at the hollowness you now felt inside, but you were starting to feel sleepy with a small yawn coming after your whimper. “That’s it’s darling…you can sleep now..” He then tucks you under the covers gently with a soft kiss to your forehead seeing your eyes fluttering gently into slumber, completely spent with the workout he just gave you.
After he cleans himself and gets dressed he walks over to the abounded teacups eyeing his own carefully, when he realizes in the murky brew that he accidentally spiked his own somehow, chuckling at his own mix up that ether way seemed to do the trick for your tiresome night.
“No wonder the tea’s gone cold..”
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queer-n-here · 2 days
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Omg imagine Chuuya using his ability to ride you harder
Oh my fucking god, what writer's block?
This just blew me away for no reason at all, bro what?
Contents: Chuuya using his ability while riding you.
Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, marking, riding, daddy kink.
Chuuya was far from satiated.
He had been riding you for a while now, back dripping sweat as he grinded down on your cock for the nth time, breath uneven and sped up, eyes filled with tears that had not yet fallen.
His naked body was moving in a way so slutty you had to grip his waist and leave marks on his skin to remind yourself that he was real, here, and not a dream.
His dishevelled hair stuck to his sweat-covered forehead, his lips chapped and bloody from your rough kisses and his own teeth. There were bite marks all over his neck, chest, torso; you hadn't left a single inch of his pale skin untouched.
You were sitting back against the headboard of your shared bed, Chuuya in your lap as he bounced wildly on your cock, loud ah-ah-ahs echoing around the room as sounds of skin slapping skin almost drowned them out. His fingers were gripping onto your shoulders for balance, gripping so hard you knew he'd drawn blood with his blunt nails without needing to look.
But it wasn't enough, wasn't enough, just WASN'T.
Chuuya suddenly glowed black, his trembling thighs outlined by the glow that seemed to come from every inch of his skin. You felt the weight on your thighs increase suddenly, and he sunk down so low on your dick that even your balls were embedded into him.
"Fuck, Chuuya," You gasped, fingers digging even deeper into his skin as he grinded down on your cock again, using his ability to take you even further.
"Ngh!" Finally, your tip hit that spot that you could find so easily in him.
Ecstatic, he did it again, hips eager and wanting, eyes finally dripping tears. He cried out as he sped up, his movements somehow even wilder, the only thoughts in his head ways on how to chase that pleasure.
"F-fuck yeah," Chuuya gasped, jaw loose. "Ah, feels so good, [Name]!"
You hardly had the breath in your to speak, what with him going to town on your cock like it was his last day on earth, clenching so hard around your cock you saw stars.
"Such a little slut, Chuuya," You managed to say somehow. "Using your ability like this, heh, who would have thought? You like it that much?"
And he nodded in response, eyes glazed over. "Daddy's little slut. Only yours."
Your eyes widened, and then you chuckled, pulling Chuuya close and letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck as he continued assaulting your cock. You knew full well he would rather admit to being short than repeat his words once he could think again, but the moment was raw, and so you decided to push him a little more.
"Daddy's slut, huh?" You murmured into his ears, your hips rising to meet his half-way through. "Such a good slut, taking all of my cock so well. You sure know how to please daddy, don't you, Chuuya?"
He nodded, arms wrapped around you so tight it was as if he was afraid you'd leave without cumming in him.
He was trembling all over now, and even with the assistance of his ability, his movements had gotten sloppier. You knew he was close, so you reached forwards, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.
When he came, ropes of come shooting out of his dick, he collapsed almost immediately against your chest, panting. You kept going, thrusting up into him for your own orgasm, and he let you.
Once you'd painted his walls white, you slowed down to a stop.
Chuuya refused to get off of you, so you let him lay on you, cock still buried deep into him, even though his ability had withdrawn.
A moment passed, and you let him catch his breath.
You planted chaste kisses all over his face, making him smile softly, eyes closed. There was a big mess where you two met that you knew you had to take care of, so you carried him to the bathtub. Even when you sat down in the water, holding Chuuya in your lap, he hadn't let you pull out of him.
For a while, there was a comfortable silence.
Then, "So... Daddy, huh?"
As you burst into laughter, Chuuya smacked your shoulder weakly, ears red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
"Fuck off," He mumbled, burying his head deeper into your shoulder.
"On a more serious note, though," Your smirk faded into a soft smile, and you peeled him off of you just enough to look him in the face. "If you're into that just tell me, hmm? I don't mind."
Your voice was so quiet, and your expression so gentle that even Chuuya couldn't bring himself to deny it. Yes, he was into it. And yes, he was very, very embarrassed about it.
So he said nothing, choosing to return to the crook of your neck instead, and you let him. It was a silent conformation, the best you could get out of him.
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blondwhowrites · 3 days
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"We cannot have a baby."
"Why not?"
"Because—"
"There is no reason for us to not have a baby, princess." Mattheo interrupted you, his lips curling up in a cheeky smile. Glaring at your husband, you huffed in annoyance, and rolled off his chest and over onto your side. He frowned, wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you back into his loving embrace. You groaned.
You had just wanted to take a nap and then he barged in, absolutely railed you, and now you were being forced to hear him rave on and on about having babies. Honestly, you could not believe the sheer determination that your husband possessed when it came to the goal of getting you pregnant. "Mattheo—Honey, I love you, but for godsakes just let me sleep!"
"If I let you sleep will you promise to think about it?" He asked.
Completely exasperated and tired, you nodded in hope it would get him to finally shut up. "I promise to think about it." You sighed.
"Then goodnight princess, I love you." Knowing he won, Mattheo happily pressed a kiss to your forehead, and pulled the blanket over you—practically tucking you into his arms.
You were pregnant by the end of the month.
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megaderping · 2 days
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I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.
Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.
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sugar-grigri · 2 days
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How about an analysis of Dunmeshi's latest episode?
What I find really interesting, and episode 17 made me realize it, is the extent to which Laios and Shuro are the opposite of what they portray, even worse: the image they might portray is actually that of the other.
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Let me explain :
How does Shuro see Laios ? As someone stubborn and thoughtless, disconnected from reality to the point of using black magic to resurrect his little sister.
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We know that Shuro would have made the same choice, which shows that even if he tries to deny it, there is a point of connection between them.
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The key to these similarities and differences is Falin.
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What Shuro loves about Falin is the tenderness in her every gesture, her compassion and understanding of every creature, and her smile.
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When he sees this monster kill in cold blood, he realizes the extent to which he has lost his loved one, which is why he chooses to kill her to free his soul, thinking he has lost her.
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But what Shuro doesn't realize is that he's exactly what he's blaming Laios for: he's stubborn and reckless, not realizing the danger and sacrifices his teammates are making for the sake of this mission.
He's also disconnected from reality, not caring about himself, his hunger or his fatigue.
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Above all, and this is very interesting, Laios had said that he hadn't perceived that Shuro couldn't stand him because he was so happy to have him as a friend, that he hadn't detected any of these signals.
Shuro shares this blindness
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Shuro repeats that this monster is not Falin, yet he sees her as such, to the point of embarrassment when the monster removes her blouse.
And that's the opposite of Laios, who sees his sister as the monster she is
Like the chimera Falin has become, he sees his little sister calling him and this super-cool monster.
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He's the one with his feet firmly on the ground, he's the one who really cares about his team, taking care of himself and those around him through balanced meals.
The one who understands that Falin has many vital points, rather than allowing himself to be overwhelmed by despair, is Laios.
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So when Shuro hits Laios, in reality he's not hitting a man who differs from him, he's hitting his own flaws, and his own failure in the situation.
This failure he projects onto Laios, a man brimming with flaws.
Not only does Laios reason with him, but if Shuro ends up taking the wiser path, it's also because he's literally fought against himself.
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But it all goes even further!
Shuro realized his feelings, or rather how unique Falin was in her tenderness and altruism, towards every being, even the smallest.
But what set this whole cycle in motion was Falin's self-sacrifice, her own death.
Laios and Marcille are responsible for what follows, but they are not responsible for everything, as Shuro tries to believe.
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Shuro refuses the truth
So he doesn't see Falin
He couldn't accept that her tenderness had led to his death
Nor that her tenderness gave way to extreme coldness and indifference
He won't accept his own blindness
So he hits Laios and his extreme sincerity that irritates him so much
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Shuro can't see anything in the darkness of this dungeon, he's the one who's lost his footing so he has to get back up again
Laios has accepted to see everything, even the unavowable, the forbidden, the pain.
What Shuro sees in Falin is love
In Laios, what he sees is the truth
In reality, Laios has only told part of the truth; he is the other half.
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But if he goes back up, it's not to abandon Falin, Shuro has to face reality, the truth, that Laios was the only one who could save his beloved. It was by fighting that he finally put his trust in Laios. And finally became a friend
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gffa · 3 days
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LMAO Bruce is disgusted at the thought of getting magical powers to accomplish their mission, he will never stoop so low, don't be ridi-- Dick Grayson, two feet away, hand literally waving in the air: OOOH GIVE ME THE MAGICAL POWERS GIVE THEM TO ME I WILL TOTALLY TAKE THE MAGICAL POWERS Just. The conflict between: Bruce's refusal to ever accept magical powers because they're not his own, because he couldn't rely on them as part of what he'd created on his own, because he hates magic and the nonsense it brings with it VERSUS His gremlin child who has so many of the same skills as he does, has the same reasons to mistrust using magic as a crutch, who has learned all the same fighting and detective skills Batman has, who is Batman But Better, immediately going hell yes I will take the magical powers GIMME Is the funniest thing in the world. Bruce would scream into the void if he had the time to spare, how can everything he stand for be so betrayed by this kid that he loves so much?? WHY IS HE LIKE THIS??? AGONY.
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theerurishipper · 3 days
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I feel like people really underestimate the importance of Dick being the first Robin. Like, reverse Robin AUs are interesting and such, but I just hope people realize that in the context of canon, they would never work. The reason Batman and Robin ever works is because the first Robin was Dick Grayson specifically. Because Bruce would never have taken in any child if Dick's tragedy hadn't specifically happened to mirror his own experience. Dick Grayson was the only one Bruce truly saw himself in first, because the fundamental event that defines them is the same. And he sees the opportunity to help someone the way he was never helped, to make sure that Dick didn't go down the dark path he did. So, my point here is that the only one Bruce actually made the choice to take in, the only one who could kickstart it all, is Dick Grayson, because he is the only one with whom Bruce could immediately empathize and connect with.
This never happened with any other Robin. He took in Jason because he missed Dick, he took in Tim because Tim forced himself into the role, he took in Steph because he was trying to make Tim come back to being Robin, and Dick made Damian Robin. Of course, he loved all of them, and they all have their unique relationships with Bruce that are very important and inform their characters, and he does need them too. But he specifically formed this connection with Dick that made Dick the only person he ever considered taking in. It took a very specific set of circumstances in Dick's backstory that made Bruce commit an impulse adoption that just isn't really present in any other Robin's story. And the reason Jason or Tim or Steph or Damian or anyone else whom Bruce has taken under his wing even got that chance is because of the work Dick Grayson put into Bruce Wayne.
Before Dick, Bruce was reckless and didn't care at all about himself, to the point of almost being borderline suicidal. He was more brutal, more violent, etc. The reason all this changed, is because of Dick Grayson specifically. He was the one with whom Bruce opened up, with whom Bruce was forced to grow up, to take responsibility and learn to take care of both Dick and himself. Dick, to Bruce was the one who brought "color to their [his and Alfred's] monochrome lives." Dick Grayson's specific brand of happiness and joy changed Bruce for the better. Dick gave Bruce hope. This is true for other Robins too, but only because they followed the precedent that Dick Grayson set, only because they slid into his role (they have their own interesting relationships with Bruce, but this specifically is from Dick that other Robins carried on. A legacy, if you will). Dick Grayson turned Bruce into the kind of man who would become a serial adopter.
Without his influence, without his precedent, there would be no Batfamily, because Bruce would never have gotten to the point where he would be able or willing to take in someone else and care for them properly (It took living through his trauma again to get him to take Dick in lmao). Hell, there would be no Batman because Bruce would have gotten himself killed a long time ago if Dick hadn't helped him learn self-care. Dick knows Bruce best, because he understands him on a fundamentally deeper level than anyone else in the world. And he's the only one who can make Bruce open up at his rawest, most downtrodden state. He is the only one who can give Bruce at his lowest that kind of hope. There is no Robin without Dick Grayson. It's literally a tribute to his parents, using their colors and the name his mother called him. He created that identity as a symbol of hope. He helped Bruce become the kind of man who could and would let other people that he had to care for into his life. Without Dick Grayson, you can simply forget about any other Robin or the Batfamily as a concept even existing.
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sunsbum · 2 days
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THEODORE NOTT, OBSESSED.
cw: SWEARING, p in v, obsessed!theo(obvi), JERKING OFF, n more :)
ps. english is my first language so it might be bad <3 and hes not necessarily as obsessed as i was gonna make him originally but its whatever
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Theo loved boarding school for one reason and one reason only, you.
he sees you every morning at breakfast, you guys have every class together(because he bribed the teachers) and every dinner you guys sit at the same table but at night he spends he lays in his bed jerking off to the thought of you.
running his hands over his pretty pink tip and slit, closing his eyes imaging you were there making him feel good instead of his lousy hand.
after he always felt dirty, like he was a terrible person because he thought of you like that but its not like you would ever know so whats so wrong about it?
one day he fidgeted quietly, legs bouncing. all day he thought about you and asking you a simple question.
he pays attention to the way you talk, the way your face looks when you talk about something you like. you look like a goddess to him.
“i have a question” he interrupted you, “whats up, theo?” you looked at him with confusion in your eye.
“not to be weird and if this is ill shut up immediately, but would you ever fuck me?” his eyebrows furrowed while he nervously waited for your answer.
a small smirk appeared on your face. you left out a small chuckle before answering “i mean yeah we’re friends of course i would but only if you wanted to.”
he took you up on your offer. his cock was basically bruising your cervix, “awh my poor baby am i making you feel good?” you were trying to mumble something but gave up so you end up nodding to fucked out to make out a proper sentence.
he was in heaven but aware enough to make sure not to cum to quick, “thought about this moment for awhile now” he practically moaned out.
“more, more, more, s’ good, mhm” you drag out your words and squirm underneath him.
“such a slut for lettin’ me fuck you like this” your pretty little moans egg him on, keeping him motivated to keep fucking you so perfectly.
“cumming, gonna cum.” you grip onto his hair and move your hips against his. “go ahead, cum for me baby” he pushes into you hard making you see stars.
you whimper and moan as your body gets all limp, legs trembling. he lets out a chuckle and kisses you, he loves seeing you like this, assuring him that he made you feel good.
his thrust don’t stop, your wetness being used as lubricant for him to fuck you nice and good. he’s gonna make this count just incase it doesn’t happen again. he slams into your poor cunt while leaving wet kisses all over your face and neck.
“f-fuck, love you s’ much, angel” his warm load coats your insides, makin’ it drip down your cunt and onto the sheets. “did so good baby, so good.”
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demilypyro · 3 days
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for some reason your usage of "shit from a butt" immediately made me consider you a nakeyjakey fan because he used that EXACT phrase in his starfield vid. confirm or deny
I am subscribed but I don't think I got it from him there was just a meme for a while where if a picture of bad food looked like poop people would just say "that looks like shit from a butt" and that entered my speech inadvertently
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