#i am physically revulsed

[froshele]

today in the wild I came across a phrase to the effect "...And this [pair of ethical axioms about what constitutes quality of life for purposes of discussion about disability and coma prognosis, based on the opinion of one person who has not ever been in a coma or disabled thereafter] suggests that maybe, just maybe, [relevantly comatose or recovering or disabled] people may have quality of life sufficient to make them ethically relevant"

that's ... not, um, normally considered to be what makes people "ethically relevant" in the world where all the people are and there's sunshine and grass and things, but, you know what, ok jennifer, A for effort! :) gold star for you, philosopher extraordinaire, moral lodestar for people unsure what to do with granny, paragon of ethical conduct!

#they had to put me in a coma because i declined really fast after pediatric brain surgery #it was not a long coma by most standards but i had to get so so much physical and other therapy about it #like i was out here relearning to walk and speak it was a really long recovery #people like this are of an opinion that people like me are ~simply suffering too much~ to be ~ethically relevant~ #which i think is a particularly shit form of pseudobenevolent ableism #what degree of pain do i have to experience before the invisible hand of Ethics decides i shouldn't be resuscitated if I fail #how much does my life get to suck before jennifer here decides it isnt worth living and what will that décision mean #objectively of course i was doing all of this in ukraine so the opinion of this ethicist-panelist would not have been worth anything at all #but i was so close to like being euthanized like a little mop dog #not formally exactly but my mom told me once that she thought about smothering me a lot while i was in recovery #and it was entirely because she was terminally theorybrained about suffering and life-quality in the same type of way #and if it were a medical availability i probably would not be here because i was so absurdly difficult and expensive to raise #and its just like man. i am begging you to remember the humanity of the subjects when you put these things in science papers #im having an ok morning globally i just want to blog about this on the internet to get the thing it brought back to me out of my system #i grew up with meaningful and painful disabilities + the fact that my neurology miraculously knit together into something “more workable” i #totally coincidental actually. what if it didnt? if it didnt + i was still in pain from the sun and wobbled like an earsick kitten then??? #that was the thing here like there was a 70/30 chance I would have needed a talking board and power chair #i am glad i do not but i am also very sensitive about this type of covert desire to decide about their right to live for people who do #i dont remember a lot of my childhood but i remember a lot of that pity laced with something i can now identify as revulsion to my pain #and i remember that i didnt understand it and that all i wanted was to be like other kids who were wanted and hoped for and believed in #and i dont know like its an individual thing its a family thing whatever but yesterday i had a weird trauma memory moment #that was about being displaced a little bit #which is an awfully vulnerable thing to put here but i am not asking for your sympathy i am just saying i was tender and a bit insane #and then i stepped on this rake! good morning insane asylum 《sunshine》 #today will be a better day than this #im going to make the tags froshgriping and froshplaks for my bitching and personal sniveling feel free to blacklist them #froshgriping #froshsniveling #froshplaks

[chaosgenasi]

thinking about fjord seeing the tide’s breath

#basil.ramblings #the way he went ://// at the description of vandran’s quarters being overturned. ah #and the description of getting a nat one for perception in there: ‘begin tying memories and moments and getting lost in that headspace’ #also 'i am never as overcome by jealousy as when i see my father's artwork in someone else's home... it's an innate feeling that someone #else possesses something that should be mine and the fact that it's not mine is so incomprehensible that my rejection of it is #physical like revulsion' next to fjord's 'it hurts to see so many react to a name that only meant so much to me' #also 'the opposite of a haunting is something very lonely' etc etc

[mellowwillowy]

Yandere who tricked you into debt with each game you played against him. You really shouldn't have involved yourself with the shady bastard who refers to himself as a 'Sponsor'.

You had always been intrigued by the mysterious man referred to as the 'Sponsor'. He lured you into a dangerous world of games and debts, ensnaring you in his web of manipulation. He promised lucrative rewards and fame, a high-risk high-reward game yet each time you played against him, he would trick you into incurring more debts with every loss.

His games were rigged against you and each game you played brought you further into debt. Now, he had you exactly where he wanted you – in a position of desperation and with no way out.

His slender fingers lightly stroked your arm, his touch like a whisper of poisoned air. You had just lost a hand of poker against him, a swift defeat caused by his royal flush against your full house. With a sickeningly sweet cooing tone in his voice, he gripped your face by the cheeks, his nails digging into your flesh.

"I thoroughly enjoyed our game, but did you?" He asked in a mocking tone, his eyes sneering and uncaring at the way you trembled against his touch and tone.

You tried to shake him off, or at least pull your face away, but his grip was tight and firm. His maroon eyes gazed into yours, unblinking and unrelenting. With a shivering lip, you snarled at him through gritted teeth; "Curse you, you fraud."

A curse in retaliation instead of a plea, it truly amused the 'Sponsor'.

In a split second, you were pinned beneath him, your back hitting the poker table. The impact of the collision knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath. While you were still gasping for air, his face was now inches away from your neck. His tongue licked a stripe up from your now forcibly exposed collarbone to your jaw, sending a shudder of revulsion through you.

"I really like you," he whispered, his breath hot and heavy on your skin before he added, "You never fail to show me just how shallow you can be."

Right before he could bite your neck, you managed to thrash free from his iron grip and elbowed him right on the face. He staggered back, rubbing his red cheek in shock. His eyes blinked at you in an empty daze once, twice.

As he regained his bearings, his eyes flickered into a familiar teal hue. Erickson's teal eyes came back to focus and he broke into a laugh.

"Why, I just enjoyyyy teaching disobedient pups like you." The veins on his neck stood out, and though he tried to feign politeness in his tone, the scrunched-up brows betrayed him.

"Stupid mutt," he spat the words out, his fingernails digging deeper into your cheek, threatening to tear it open.

"You should have just behaved and I'll let you live as a pampered cat thoroughly." Your struggles only seemed to excite him further, tightening his grip on your cheek and raising his other palm threateningly.

Just before Erickson could slap you, a man held Erickson in place, preventing him from landing the blow. "How much is their debt?" He inquired, his tone dripping with indifference.

Both men locked eyes, maroon against teal, both of them resembling each other quite a lot if not for their physical stature.

"And what do you think you are doing, Noel?" Erickson asked, his head cocked to the side. To your surprise, he didn't seem to mind the interference.

"I am here to sever them from you debt-wise," the man who you assumed to be Noel replied, his other hand motioning like the blade of a guillotine falling down.

Erickson barked into a laugh before he decided to let you go. He gave Noel a theatrical head shake, "Why of course, why not ask this little mutt how much they owe me?"

Noel walked over to you and helped you rise to both feet, his maroon eyes bore into yours, the answer was obvious.

Upon hearing the ridiculous amount of your debt, Noel's brows scrunched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. Erickson merely smirked and shuffled the playing card, seemingly enjoying the show.

Moments of silence passed, except for Erickson's whistling.

"I'll loan you the fund for you to gamble with me. It'll be half of your debt and you are to play against me to pay off your debt."

Erickson raised both of his eyebrows before laughing again, this time in a mocking manner.

"Aren't you lucky, mutt? You got yourself a 'Sponsor'."

"If you are worried about losing and falling into a larger pool of debt, then rest assured because I guarantee you that it will end with your victory." "And how do we gamble for it?" Noel held out his right hand, "As simple as rock, paper, and scissors."

You tilted your head, a curious expression tinted with suspicion on your face, "What's the catch?" "You'll have to play paper against my rock twice. That's the catch." Erickson smirked, a mocking gaze twinkling in his eyes as he interfered, "No," Erickson's fair face twisted into a mocking smile, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's the catch, dearest brother?"

"... You'll have to pay your debt off and stay away from gambling for as long as you are still under my wings."

****

It ended in a swift victory. Noel kept his end of the deal well, allowing you to pocket a large sum of money, which you promptly passed on to Erickson to clear your debt.

You believed that you had reached a happy ending, having successfully cleared your debt.

Erickson pocketed the cheques and elbowed his brother from behind, his lips curling into a smirk.

However, your sense of ease quickly dissolved, the momentary relief was dampened as Erickson turned around and spoke to you.

"I suppose it's time for you to pay up."

You looked at Erickson dumbfounded, "What?"

Erickson simply folded his hand and cocked one of his eyebrows, "Pay up what you owe."

"I have paid off my debt on you, what the fuck do I owe to you again?"

If you had a cent for every time Erickson laughed, you would indeed be filthy rich. He was still cackling with his arms wrapped around his stomach, folded into a laughing mess, apparently finding something very funny about your plight.

You looked on in confusion as Erickson continued to laugh. After another moment, his thumb pointed to your 'Sponsor'.

"Not me you silly head," he stated, "but him."

It is suffocating. "I never stated that it was an interest-free loan."

Has this man always been the devil in a saint robe? "And you are not allowed to gamble to earn the money you owe me. Not for as long as you are still under his wings. Kha-ha! I really want to help you but that's what you get for striking a deal with the saint."

The devil and fallen saint had captured its lover through collusion.

#Yandere x Reader #Erickson the Chosen #Noel the Unbent #CatboX #x GN Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #4k CatboX Celebration

[drdemonprince]

I don't know if it is because of my intense autistic burnout or because I intellectualize my emotions, but I talk to other leftists and activists who are autistic and they share about being in tears for hours, unable to eat, etc., because of the ongoing genocide. I just feel such shame that I am not having these reactions. I can intellectually feel upset, I feel angry almost all the time that all these things are happening, I try to engage in what action I can. But when I reach inside I don't feel this physical revulsion, mostly just nothing, an emptiness that is just there unless I actively think and prompt knowing I am angered and outraged. And this isn't much different than how I feel empathy interpersonally. I have had crying fits and meltdowns and been unable to eat because of my own personal problems at times. But I wonder if it's because I'm just privileged and protected by genocidal fascist colonialism and I need to wake the fuck up to the fact that I'm just selfish bitch.

You're not a selfish bitch. I am much the same way. I simply do not have emotions about most events in the world. That doesn't prevent me from taking actions that align with my values to oppose settler colonialism and genocide. In fact, I often find it easier to think clearly about the issues that I care about and take action when I am not weighed down by intense overpowering emotions.

I sometimes feel like other people must be lying about how emotionally distressed they are by these events, and that they must think being bereft proves what a good person they are and how seriously they take it. The loud performing of despair and sorrow can even annoy me because it feels so false and pointless and obnoxiously self involved.

Intellectually though I KNOW that isn't right, at least not for everyone. Lots of people just are genuinely saddened by the ongoing genocide to the extent that they cannot even function. It is just very hard for me to wrap my brain around because I do not experience such emotions. I do not place any pressure on myself to feel any particular thing, because my emotions are not a reflection of who I am. My behavior is.

Despair is not moral. A person crying and lying catatonic on the floor unable to eat does not do SHIT to help starving Palestinians. Me feeling deeply numb to the images of death and destruction that I see every day does nothing to harm them either.

What matters is how we ACT. And I do care about fighting the genocide. And I show that with my actions. And so do many of the people who are bereft too. but not because they are bereft.

Suffering isn't moral. That christianity brain talking. (which can influence a person be they christian or not). There is no good put into the world by you crying and denying yourself things and being in pain. That's a highly self involved, symbolic understanding of morality we've all been conditioned into believing. But it is nonsense. Emotions have no impact on the external world. Thoughts and prayers have no impact on the external world.

We dont have to feel any emotion about the genocide, we need to ACT.

So please stop beating yourself up for not beating yourself up more. It is of no value to the cause.

[mcytblrconfessions]

i experience physical revulsion when i see ear wings. i hate feathers and wings around the eyes. i hate when people draw animal hybrids and make the nose like that animal. every time i see grian with bird legs i want to snap them like sticks. i hate every popular ship. some of you are reaching for subatomic particles when you say you have crumbs. i could go on and on. all of you haters have nothing on me. i am the hater to end all haters everyone else can pack it up and go home

#confession #little haters #big haters

[candy69gurl]

POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 6

Warnings- consequences of self harm, private touching

wc- 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 soon

You wake up abruptly, your eyes flutter open, your body drenched in sweat. You stare at the ceiling, your head pounding, hands reaching for your phone. Messages from your friends and Gojo Satoru fill your screen.

It's 5 AM, you realize, feeling disoriented.

You struggle to get out of bed, your legs feeling unsteady. You notice a warm sensation between your legs, realizing you're wet, your core feeling damp and humid. You head towards the basin.

Staring at your reflection, you notice that same short hair, droopy eyes.

Suddenly, you vomit, bile burning your throat as you stagger back, your stomach twisting in revulsion.

Then.. Everything comes flooding back to you, the Malevolant Shrine, the tangled intimacy with Sukuna, the swirling mix of pain and pleasure...

You freeze in place, your heart hammering against your ribs. Panic claws at the edges of your mind, the looming specter of pregnancy flooding your thoughts. You vividly recall Sukuna's climax, the fear of its consequences gripping you.

With trembling limbs, you collapse to the ground, tears tracing salty paths down your cheeks.

"Oh, God," you whisper, your voice a fragile tremor. "Am I pregnant?" Your mind whirls in a tempest of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of the possibility.

In a sudden twist, Sukuna's lips form on your cheek, his tone dripping with mockery. "Are you daft? You're not pregnant," his voice laden with disdain cuts through the air.

"But why do I feel sick?" you inquire, your voice quivering with uncertainty.

"Oh, dumb girl," he croons, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I merely indulged your soul, not your mortal shell," he chuckles softly.

Your heart lurches, a surge of bewilderment flooding your senses.

"So, my soul was... defiled? Then, I am still untouched?" you stammer, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Sukuna's grin widens, his lone eye glinting with malice.

"Yes, your physical form remains pristine," he confirms, his voice icy. "But your soul will forever bear the mark of our encounter, even if it traverses to another vessel," his words drip with menace.

Shock grips you tightly, leaving you staggered.

"What have you done... to my soul?" you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with dread.

Sukuna's grin stretches wider, malevolence gleaming in his eyes. "I've granted it an unforgettable taste of ecstasy. It will ache eternally for more of me, regardless of where it may reside," he purrs, satisfaction evident in his tone.

"You... monster!" you spit out, your anger boiling over.

"Mhm, daring to insult me once again?" Sukuna's voice challenges you, daring you to defy him.

Fury courses through you, igniting your veins.

"Yes! A monster, you are!" you shout, a fire lighting within your eyes. "Why did you do it? Why would you taint my soul like this?"

Sukuna's laughter rings through your mind, a mocking soundtrack to your turmoil.

"Because that was the only way to tame YOU," he replies, his voice laced with arrogance. "Besides, your soul was so eager, so ready to embrace the sin we offered. Why resist temptation?"

A new wave of disgust washes over you, a bitter tide of betrayal.

"I feel sick.. So sick," you cry out, your chest heaving. "And now, I'm left with the memory, the shame... I hate you, Sukuna!"

His laughter dies down, replaced with quiet, cold amusement.

"Perhaps, that's where you're wrong," he whispers, his voice like icicles. "You crave me, desperate for more, even if you deny it. And I believe you'll come begging for it, sooner than later," he predicts.

The accusation leaves you reeling, struggling to regain your footing.

"No..." you gasp, your denial wavering. "I can.. NEVER."

Another wave of laughter washes over your mind, a cruel riptide in your mind. "We shall see, darling. We shall see," he promises, his voice ringing with dark confidence.

With a shudder, you turn away from the mirror, wiping your tears.

"This doesn't change anything," you vow, your voice firm. "I'll never let you control me, never let you win."

Determination courses through your veins, a steely resolve settling into your core.

Nausea gnaws at your insides, your body rebelliously refusing to accept sustenance. Each bite results in heaves, bile scalding your throat. As if to torment you, Sukuna's presence lingers, smug and triumphant.

"Why can't I consume anything? My head hurts so much," you complain, your frustration palpable.

Sukuna chuckles softly, his voice caressing your mind, "You see, dear, you bled profusely last night," he explains nonchalantly, "While I healed your wounds, your body isn't used to such treatment. The trauma is taking its toll on your equilibrium."

Your stomach churns, the reality sinking in. "Is there... nothing I can do to feel better?" you plead, your voice trembling.

Sukuna's laughter echoes in your mind, a cruel serenade to your plight.

"Ah, do you understand now?" he mocks, his voice syrupy sweet. "You shouldn't have tried such foolish acts, suffer now."

Your heart pounds, rage coursing through your veins.

"That's your fault," you snap, your voice sharp with anger. "You made me angry"

He sighs, his voice laced with false regret, "This is what I get after healing your body? Accusations?"

As you run your fingers through your hair, the thin strands catch uncomfortably. A decision forms in your mind. Slipping on a cap, you step into the quiet morning, hoping to evade notice.

Alas, fate conspires against you - Gojo and Yuji materialize in front of you, concern etched on their faces.

"Hey, you alright?" Gojo questions, his brow furrowing. "And why the cap?"

Your heart skips a beat, guilt gnawing at you. "Oh nothing.." you mutter, avoiding their gaze. "Getting a haircut."

Yuji tilts his head, studying your face, "Is everything alright?" he asks, worry lacing his voice. "You don't seem well."

Laughter of Sukuna flashes through your mind, "Go on tell them you tried to kill yourself."

Ignoring Sukuna you speak up, "Just tired, Yuji," you dismiss, forcing a smile. "Really, it's nothing."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his gaze. "Let's go to Shoko," he suggests firmly. "We need to check on you."

Your breath hitches, anxiety coiling around your stomach.

"I'm fine, really," you insist, trying to shake off their concern. "Just a bad night's sleep."

Yuji frowns, his eyes searching yours. "Pls tell us if something's wrong," he urges, his voice filled with sincerity. "We're here for you."

Your heart aches, gratitude and guilt warring within you. "Thank you, both," you murmur, offering a weak smile. "I promise. But today, I need some space, please?"

Gojo nods reluctantly, his gaze softening. "Alright, then. Just remember, we're here if you need us," he assures you.

Yuji reaches out, gently touching your arm, "Take-", but all of a sudden, he pauses, looking at you in disbelief.

"Y/N, you are cursed", Yuji speaks, withdrawing his hands from you.

Your eyes widen, shock washing over your face.

"Remember, you are not allowed to tell them anything", Sukuna warns, his voice clear through your mind.

"Yes, Fuck you Yuji," you laugh waving at them leaving the scene with confidence.

Yuji looks at Gojo after you leave, " I feel weird sensei. She is indeed hiding something from us."

Gojo replies, " I am aware of that. Gotta do something about it."

At the parlor, you opt for an undercut, the stylist expertly trimming your locks. As the transformation unfolds, you can't help but feel renewed. With a fresh look and restored energy, you venture back to your place.

"Don't mess with my hair again", you threaten Sukuna in your mind.

"Don't provoke me then," Sukuna retorts, matching your tone.

Throughout the day, you attempt to eat, engaging in small battles with Sukuna.

"I blame you for this," you grumble, your voice laced with irritation. "For making me feel like this."

Sukuna's voice echoes in your mind, "Oh, spare me your misplaced outrage," he responds, his tone dismissive.

"You ruined everything!" you retort, your voice shaking with anger.

"Everything, yes," he agrees sardonically. "Except for the fact you are still alive."

Silence descends between you, the weight of his words heavy. You swallow hard, conceding his point.

The evening casts its shadow, painstakingly slow hours stretching before you. Despite Sukuna's taunting, a faint empathy seeps through his words. Silent tears track down your cheeks, blurring your vision. An overwhelming sense of helplessness consumes you, your heart heavy.

As darkness falls, you retreat to bed, unable to find solace in sleep. Tossing and turning, rest eludes you. Your thoughts swirl like a tempest, each wave crashing against the rocks of your soul. You remember, Gojo and Yuji tried to comfort you today, their concern gnawing at your conscience.

Guilt tightens its grip, suffocating you.

Sukuna's voice echoes in the silence, "Stop pitying yourself," he advises, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "It doesn't suit you."

Torment gnaws at your insides, hunger and sleeplessness conspiring against you. Each rumble of your stomach serves as a reminder of your failure. Frustrated and desperate, you toss and turn, seeking solace in the darkness.

Sukuna's voice cuts through the silence, "Enough of this self-flagellation," he drawls. "Do something about it."

Curiosity piqued, you listen as he continues, "Touch yourself. Release the tension, and perhaps find sleep."

Defiance courses through your veins, your jaw tensing. "No way," you retort, your voice firm. "I'm not going to listen to your perverse suggestions."

Sukuna's laughter resonates, a sinister melody in the dark.

"You know it would ease your predicament," he purrs, his voice teasing.

Your heart races, temptation coursing through you. But you resist, adamant. "Not happening," you state resolutely, turning away from him. "If I fall asleep you will do weird things to with my body again."

Sukuna's laughter fills the void, his voice rich with amusement. "Fair enough," he relents, his tone mockingly placating. "But if you change your mind..."

Unsettled, you huddle under the covers, the weight of his words heavy on your mind.

Trembling, you hesitate, the truth of his words gnawing at your resolve. Gripping your sheets, you reach for your clit, the sensation immediately electrifying.

Sukuna's voice intrudes, "How delightful," he croons, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "You are really doing it."

Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks, mingling with pleasure. Ignoring him, you focus on the rising tide of sensations, each stroke bringing relief. Despite the distraction, your hand continues its steady rhythm, easing your restlessness.

He chuckles, "So vulnerable, so weak."

Sukuna's voice filters through your mind, his words laden with smug anticipation.

"You know I can help, right? Make it better?" he proposes, his tone smooth.

Unease twists your insides, but you consider his offer for a moment. With a final resolve, you push him away.

"No," you utter defiantly.

His voice drips with disappointment, "You can trust me right?" he sighs, resignation evident in his tone.

"That's the least thing I do", you spit.

With a shaky breath, you continue, focusing on the building sensations. Pleasure washes over you, slowly ebbing the turmoil within.

Sukuna's voice pierces the quiet, "Feeling good?" he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.

You nod, your breath ragged. "Yes... I've never felt like this before."

A pause ensues, suspense hanging heavy between you..

His voice hums with satisfaction, "Then let's take it further. Insert, one finger," he suggests gently. "Just one."

Hesitant, you consider his proposal. Fear threatens to undermine your courage. "I don't know... I'm scared," you confess, your voice wavering.

"Don't worry you can take it", Sukuna assures you.

Cautiously, you follow his instruction, inserting one finger, gasping at the new sensation. Waves of pleasure wash over you, heightening your arousal.

Sukuna's voice vibrates with approval, "See? Doesn't it feel good?"

Breathlessly, you agree, "Yeah... it feels good."

Another pause stretches between you, anticipation mounting.

"Two fingers," he encourages softly. "Go ahead."

Pulse racing, you obey, adding a second finger. A fresh wave of pleasure engulfs you, your moans growing louder.

Sukuna's voice resonates, "Good girl," he praises, his tone approving. "Now, deeper."

Obediently, you move your fingers, exploring deeper. A surge of ecstasy courses through you, your body trembling in response.

His voice echoes in your mind, "There you go. Keep going, feel it."

As you continue, an uncanny sensation unfurls – a mouth forms from your palm. Its tongue flicking and lapping at your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through you. Overwhelmed, you cry out, your body bucking involuntarily.

Sukuna's voice rings triumphantly, "Ah, the moans you are making.."

Panting heavily, you struggle to respond.

In awe, you stifle your cries, covering your mouth with your other hand. Despite your efforts, the sounds escape you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. Simultaneously, a second mouth appears, its tongue delving into your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Sukuna's voice rumbles with satisfaction, "Shh... It's okay," he murmurs, his tone husky. "Let go."

Your body trembles, pleasure and embarrassment warring within. As his tongues dance against your clit and lips, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation.

His voice echoes in your mind, guiding you. "Come for me," he coaxes, his tone seductive.

With a final, fierce thrust, you climax, a deafening scream trapped behind your hand. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes into you, obliterating all thought. Your body convulses, surrendering to the bliss.

His voice resonates, "That's it, sweetheart. Let it flow."

As the storm subsides, you collapse onto the bed, breathless and spent. Relief washes over you.

Sukuna's voice echoes in the stillness, his tone encouraging.

"Again," he urges softly. "This time, play with your nipples too."

Reluctantly, you obey, adjusting to his request. Your fingers explore your nipples, their sensitivity surprising you. Combined with the continued stimulation, a familiar fire blooms within.

His voice hums, "See how responsive they are?"

With renewed vigor, you succumb to the sensations. Pleasure builds once more, escalating with intensity.

Unexpectedly, your hand halts, replaced by a sudden invasion. His tongue plunges into your hole, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you. Meanwhile, the hand manipulating your nipple transforms into a mouth once more. It suctions your nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

The dual assault overwhelms you, a potent mix of pleasure and surprise. One tongue probes deep within you, its rhythmic motions stirring your core. Meanwhile, the suction on your nipple intensifies, a delicious pull that leaves you breathless. Sensations overload your senses, each action synchronizing in perfect harmony.

"Oh god!" you gasp, your body arching involuntarily.

His voice hums in your mind, "Almost there," he promises, his tone tantalizing.

Intense pleasure swells within you, threatening to break free.

"Please..." you plead in your mind, "Gonna cum again."

Sukuna's voice echoes in your mind, "Cum on my tongue, let me taste you," he assures, his tone confident.

The onslaught continues, his tongue and lips working in harmony. You teeter on the edge, each touch pushing you closer.

With a loud cry, you orgasm again. Ecstasy engulfs you, washing away all thoughts. Your muscles contract, riding the intense waves until exhaustion takes hold.

His voice whispers in your ear, "Well done, human."

Exhausted, you sink back into the pillow, your breathing labored. In the afterglow, you drift off to sleep, lulled by the residual pleasure.

Sukuna's voice lingers in your mind, "I wanted you to orgasm a few more times but for today, rest."

"O-oversenstive", you say before drifting off to sleep.

While you're lost in sleep, a shift occurs. You're unaware of the change, unmindful of Sukuna's return. His consciousness merges with yours, awakening a sense of familiarity.

His voice hums in delight, "Ah, it feels so good to be in this flesh again."

Curiosity piqued, he explores his newfound freedom, his fingers tracing your body. An instinct guides him, his digit finding your clit.

He chuckles, startled, "Whoa, it's clenching like crazy! and so fucking wet.."

Unease creeps in, his action initiating a reaction. Oversensitivity courses through your body, amplifying even the slightest touch.

His voice trembles, "Oh fuck.. this is so sensitive."

His fingers continue to explore, reveling in the hypersensitive state. Each stroke incites a jolt of pleasure that reverberates throughout your body.

His voice quivers with disbelief, "Damn, I didn't think it would be this strong!"

Unable to resist, he indulges in the experience, daring to venture deeper. Your body responds predictably, a fresh surge of desire building. Thighs shaking, abdomen twitching.

Ignoring the oddity of the situation, Sukuna dives in, his fingers delving into you. The oversensitivity catches him off guard, a low moan escaping your lips. The sound is foreign, a deep male voice emanating from your feminine form.

"M-mhm, a-ah this.. this feels better than that day's", his deep voice softly echoing the room.

Despite the peculiarity, the pleasure beckons. His fingers continue their assault, your body responding eagerly. Each thrust sends rippling waves of ecstasy throughout.

His voice groans, "I c-cant stop.." his tone strained. "Can't resist."

Driven by curiosity and pleasure, he persists, the feeling too exhilarating to abandon. Your body writhes beneath him, reacting to every touch.

His voice rasps out, "So tight, so hot... Perfect."

The feeling intensifies, nearing a crescendo. He struggles to maintain control, each thrust fueling the impending release.

His voice shakes, "You're going to come again..."

And you do, a third round of orgasms tearing through your body. Your body arcs, gripping his intruding digit in a desperate attempt to prolong the pleasure.

His voice growls, "God, this body feels incredible."

Once the storm subsides, Sukuna pulls back, his eyes wide with wonder. The unusual sensation lingers, a testament to your newly discovered oversensitivity.

With reluctance, he releases you, allowing consciousness to seep back in. As awareness returns, you find yourself in sleep.

TAGLIST: @moonlightazriel @unholiiness @nyxlai @cocoaxbunny @persephone-lilly @iraa567 @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud @lotus-n-l0ve @smashhed @imhellakawai @loveoreos @selfloverrrrrr @matchainthemorning @freckledmuffin @palegardenrebel @hellomeow12 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @zurakoofgintama

Dividers from @cafekitsune

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna jjk #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna ryoumen x you #jjk sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader

[dangermousie]

This is such a !!!! scene on so many levels. Here is 17, changing, and even with only inner robe on, he looks pristine and perfect, just the way his reputation paints - a wonderful young master heir blah blah.

And then the camera pans down and you get horror. And the thing is, I love it for so many reasons - this is a vanishingly rare costume cdrama narrative where scars don’t fade - usually people spit blood and look pristine and it’s an aesthetics I dig, but this isn’t it, this is very much torture and suffering is not pretty in the least. There is nothing appealing about 17′s bare torso. It’s honestly pretty damn hard to look at. And I am genuinely impressed at the drama for going there. But also, it’s so in keeping with the thrust of the narrative for ALL the characters - traumas do not magically heal and go away; you learn to live with them and heal the best you can, but the marks remain for good and you are forever changed. It’s pretty clever of the drama because we saw all this mess in ep 2 but he’s been dressed to the neck ever since and I honestly just assumed it all got healed; no it normally wouldn’t but I am used to drama logic. And then it just smashes you in the face. Nope, still there!

Crazy fiancee bursts in with another attempt to woo or w/e and then sees this...

It takes a pretty impressive kind of discipline to get this reaction and then turn to fully face the other person, exposing all the horror while knowing the revulsion you are going to get as a reaction and, in fact, counting on it to help break the engagement. If Jing wasn’t such a nice person, he’d be honestly terrifying.

She runs off, of course, and it strikes me again no wonder the hugeness of his reaction to XY blushing around him shirtless (when he looked even worse) and how it restored his feeling as a man when this is the reaction he gets from his fiancee and probably 99% of any woman around. Looking like this and still being seen as desirable - yeah, that’s got to be huge.

As I said. Good lord, he could be quite terrifying if he chose. But also, it’s all so symbolic of how he looks like the perfect Tushan heir and that idealized image but he really is not - because he’s hurt by his past but also because nobody can be this bloodless perfection. XY likes him with all his trauma, physical and otherwise, just as he likes her the same - they see each other’s real self. But here, even if fiancee wasn’t evil, it is like the infatuation of that musician outside that tea house - based on idealized image, not reality.

Pssst, fiancee’s notion of a better man? Jing’s torturer brother. Her main complaint is “dude, the torture you inflicted on your brother makes him look gross!!!!”

I love how their delusions are what’s blinding them, just as both believe he’s back for revenge because that’s the only reason they’d be back.

Sweetheart, you are a murderous psycho but I am forced to point out that a man who could torture his own half-brother who he grew up with and who did him no harm, do it for years and so severely the man is permanently terribly scarred and with a busted leg, for literally nothing the man had ever done to him but because he was pissed at his mom and had an inferiority complex, is not a good choice of partner? One day he’s gonna get pissed at you!

I hope you both get to experience cousin’s maggot box at length but also, if there ever was a fitting match in this drama!

#cdrama #lost you forever #deng wei

[k-s-morgan]

Hello

I am reading your kuro fic and I really enjoy the hurt/comfort between Sebastian and Ciel.

However. I am curious about the sensations he feels when being with Ciel. From what we get when reading his POV, it seems sometimes his demonical essence is getting aroused by Ciel's behavior and closeness.

So I wondered how would he react, when he realise a physical reaction like that for a human. Especially Ciel.

And how would Ciel react about something physical. He didn't seem to be so shocked or against a kiss between Sebastian and himself.

Hi! Thank you, I also enjoy writing about how these two hopeless monsters keep hurting one another, then seek comfort in one another, then hurt each other again.

I'm not sure at what point Sebastian will fully realize and acknowledge the physical attraction he feels to Ciel because this is the first time he's experiencing it on every level, including the purely demonic and authentic one. We'll see how it goes, he'll probably surprise me with this too. I guess in his mind, it will be too blurred with his overwhelming possessiveness to clearly differentiate between the two. That he wants to possess Ciel is a fact that he won't deny, but the component of sexual attraction will probably confuse him into staying oblivious for quite a while. Once he embraces it, he'll likely want to act on it, so he might start a long-term game of seduction. Then again, it'll probably happen in a post-canon period because they'll be too busy with other things meanwhile.

As for Ciel, on the one hand, he was open to a kiss because his body and his mind recognize Sebastian as someone safe, and more closeness is something he craves. Sebastian is the only safe being to him, we see this from how he recoils from Bard and multiple other people who try to touch him even innocently. But if things were to go deeper, verging into the purely sexual territory where Ciel knew nothing but abuse and violence, then it might lead to some complications. He could struggle with irrational panic and self-revulsion for wanting something that hurt him and debased him so much in the past.

#my fics #sebaciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji #ciel phantomhive

[thricedead]

"AMATONORMATIVITY" MAY BE REAL IN A WAY, BUT ITS PRIMARY TARGETS ARE NOT AROMANTIC PEOPLE

* Do not call me, the writer of this post, "allo" or "an allo" in any manner. I am a gay victim of CSA and repeated relationship abuse, and my relationship to romance and sex is shaped by a lifetime of trauma. If you trivialize me into your "allo boogeyman", my response will not be kind

I spent hours upon hours yesterday in the "amatonormativity" tag, reading blog posts from over a hundred individuals as well as longer entries structured as articles and even excerpts from published books - you can't accuse me of pulling a definition of "amatonormativity" out of my ass, because I approached it with great attention and made detailed notes to identify those characteristics of "amatonormativity" that are universally considered to be present and harmful, and to discard the personal opinions of more extreme individuals. It is not my intention to engage with people whose revulsion towards romance comes from a place of personal trauma, but to challenge and refute the seemingly VERY popular idea that there is a societal construct/axis of power present in *all of society* that forces *all people* to couple romantically, and that romantically coupled people hold innate power over lifelong singles.

...every single trait of "amatonormativity" that aro bloggers universally bring up can be attributed to a different, pre-existing oppressive construct. Mainly "amatonormativity" is a jumbled mix of patriarchal/misogynistic ideals, consumerism and white supremacy. Also, the supposed equation of amatonormativity falls completely into trash when you try to include mentally and physically disabled people, homosexual and transgender people, mainly.

Familial/peer pressure to find a partner is cited as a form of amatonormative abuse most often. However, this is plainly a patriarchal standard. People perceived as women and men alike are expected to pander to the patriarchy by partnering - women, because they are still valued mainly as objects of beauty and belonging, which is to say, romantic partners. Lifelong single women are not harassed because they are single, but because they are unavailible to men. You can see this being true because lesbians are pressured by their families to partner with men in the same vein acearo women are - if amatonormativity were real, f/f relationships would be generally seen as an acceptable happy end for a woman... but partnered gay and bisexual (in f/f relationships) women still face abuse ranging from pressure to turn to dating men, invasive questions about their relationships, conversion therapy, corrective rape, forced marriages, violence and murder. Don't try to say "but my family would rather I date a woman than no-one at all!". If it's so, you are one in a million, and even then you surely have relatives and friends who think the opposite. Believing that a woman needs a (male) partner to be fulfilled is not "amatonormativity". It is misogyny.

As for men, they are pressured to find (female) partners in order to take their "rightful" place within the patriarchy. This is not "misandry" by the way - this is an extension of women being perceived as a man's right. A man who does not have a woman is perceived as lesser because of patriarchal standards, and is seen as emasculated and unable to wield patriarchal power. Likewise, homosexual and bisexual (in m/m relationships) men are not accepted by society just because they are partnered. They face violence, vitriol and mockery on a worldwide scale. Your parents are not asking you if your friend of the opposite gender is your partner & "who do you have a crush on" because of "amatonormativity" - they are doing so because of patriarchal expectations.

The idea of a nuclear family and monetary benefits to having one is also often cited as amatonormativity. But *the concept of a nuclear family was pushed as an antiblack political move, primarily to target Black single mothers and families that do not fit a white western ideal*. It is a racialized construct, and first and foremost a tool of white supremacy. Though nonblack singles also suffer the unfair tax brackets and marital expectations, they are not its primary targets, and if anything are proof that white people are willing to sacrifice even the more misfortunate of their own for a sliver of a chance to hurt and control Black citizens. This is antiblackness, not "amatonormativity".

The third problem, the one i see cited alongside the first two even though I do not consider them to hold equal weight, is the oversaturation of media with themes of romance and sex, celebration of Valentine's day, couples' merchandise and so on. *This is just consumerism*. Romance and sex sell so they will produce more romance and sex to sell more. It's lame, and I am against the trivialization of love in order to sell it as a cheap product. I empathize with the fact that the media you love is filled with cheap romance, because I'm not a huge fan of the genre and am especially uninterested in m/f romance. But this is not an unique struggle. You can argue that m/m and f/f relationships have been gaining more representation in media, but this is largely because companies figured out that they can make money off of them. Gay media largely does not exist because gay love is celebrated and valued. *It is a product to sell*. Gay couples in media are not "amatonormative" - they are facets of consumerism or gay artists' yearnings (and those aren't aimed at hurting you, and aren't the real issue).

Lastly... how can you claim that the pressure to partner is universal, when eugenics and marriage inequality exist? Mentally disabled people - autistic people with support needs, people with learning disabilities, speech impediments, personality disorders - we are all purposefully desexualized and deromanticized as well as demonized or infantilized for the sake of preventing us from partnering and reproducing. *This is ableism, and its goal is to isolate and exterminate disabled people from society.* Physically disabled people are desexualized and infantilized to an even higher degree, people whose appearances reflect their disability are demonized *and most prominently, people lose their disability benefits if they get married. This is eugenicist violence, and its goal is to weed out disabled people from society.* Where is "amatonormativity" now? Disabled people are not even allowed to dream of partnering.

And the gays you blame for reinforcing amatonormativity and forcing their love upon you? *In many places, gay and bisexual people are systemically encouraged to be celibate through religious abuse*. A gay person remaining celibate is deemed as virtuous! When I came out to my mother, she told me that she could accept my inclinations "so long as I don't commit physical sin". Gay people are not encouraged to partner. Never have been, never will be. Gay people also face medicalization of our orientation, conversion therapy, forced marriage and corrective rape. Gay people also have straight standards shoved down our throats. But we are not your oppressors. Gay love is encouraged exclusively in gay circles, and if you condemn our expression of our love that has always been repressed and demonized, don't cry when you make enemies here.

What about transgender people? Transgender people - especially transgender woman - are painted by cisheteropatriarchy as sexual deviants, as predators looking to corrupt. They are not encouraged to partner - no, not even transhets. They are deemed unloveable. They are wanted alone, miserable, and then dead. Where is "amatonormativity"?

In conclusion, the idea of "amatonormativity" stands on legs so shaky they can't be called legs. What you are trying to isolate is actially an intersection of the cisheteropatriarchy, white supremacy and capitalist consimerism. I understand that aromantic people face difficulties, I do. I understand you feel frustrated and want a simple construct to make an enemy of. But you can't dismantle "amatonormativity" alone because it is a delicate net of far more complex axes of power. Focus your strength on dismantling the patriarchy, white supremacy, ableism and capitalism. When women, gay and trans people, Black people and other people of color and disabled people are free, no one will turn on you so long as you don't shoot stray bullets in your pointless war on romantic love.

Feel free to respectfully comment and offer your differing opinions, because I really want this discussed.

#amatonormativity #aromantic #mutuals ask if you need anything tagged

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for needing people to do certain things for me

ok so i (20f) have dysautonomia (pots). sometimes i will be too tired to do something, including chores, so i need someone else to do them in my stead and i will also sometimes need someone to bring me stuff, like water etc because i can't feasibly get up to do it on my own because i might faint (usually a problem when i wake up)

i also have sensory problems, which for me means i have an aversion to raw meat because of the smell and also physically handling it. we have a dog who has problems with eating and won't eat unless there's shredded meat on his kibble. for some reason in spite of my problems i get singled out for chores a lot, including this one, and my revulsion is so strong that i literally can't bring myself to do it. additionally, a few years ago i had brain surgery and since them strong smells or sometimes anything that's just kind of bad smelling can trigger headaches bad enough to make me nauseous

i get told that i'm being lazy and entitled for my problems when i don't understand why someone else can't just do it, because everyone else in my house is literally completely capable of doing these tasks with no issue unlike me. sometimes i wonder if i AM being lazy and entitled

so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[tadpole-apocalypse]

So Astarion says during the post Cazador cemetery scene that he didn’t like Tav at first. Which makes sense given what we learn about him throughout the game, but it really got me thinking about I see Morgan and Astarion’s relationship and what they actually see in one another beyond the physical, so here is some stream of consciousness about their early relationship that I can't stop thinking about.

Firstly, I think the decision to seduce her was entirely instinct; I doubt Astarion actually sat down and planned to manipulate her, because it wouldn’t even be a debate to him. Ofc he’d seduce and manipulate her, that’s how he’s done things for the past two centuries. He doesn’t even think of doing otherwise; it's just how he is around others he perceives as useful to him.

She vouches for him to the others after the vampire reveal, mostly because she’s pragmatic and they need all the help they can get for the tadpole crisis.

When he tries to bite her, she has no moral qualms about digging into his mind. Not only does she see he has fed only from vermin, but she can feel echoes of his hunger, his revulsion, and then the barest bit of satiety as the putrid blood slides down his throat. Then he starts pathetically begging her for her blood, so she takes pity on him. It’s also pragmatic, she would rather not camp with a starving vampire, but it's mostly pity.

It turns out she likes being bit, so when he turned on the seduction she was like…ok fine let’s do this. It was casual for her to start, as well. She thought his over the top seduction was a joke, and didn’t realize he actually trying to seriously seduce her this way until she teases him about it at the tiefling party (during the scene where he’s trying out all his lines on her). He doesn’t have her “hooked” the way he wants; She still hasn't dropped her guard around him entirely and he needs her on his side against Cazador. She would also have spent some of the tiefling party flirting with Halsin and trying to get him to drink with her. Karlach and Lae’zel also shoot their shot with her here.

There's a really interesting dialogue you can get when holding the Sussur flower as a Sorcerer (or any magic user I presume) because it blocks all magic use. Astarion made a comment that we should fix not having our magic asap, because "he wasn't with us for our personality" like in a cutesy "oh darling I'm joking but am I really" way. He just for a moment becomes very transparent about the transactional nature of their relationship and because I had Morgan react with panic I thought she would have been really upset by what he says here. They would have a big argument around this part of the story that does threaten to end whatever they have going and it’s only until he sees she is actually really shaken and left vulnerable by the experience that he tries to fix his mistake.

Clearly what he was doing up until now wasn't getting him the results he desired, so he has to change tactics and actually try to cozy up to her in a way she will respond to.

He stops with the clichéd lines and act, which lets them talk more candidly with one another. At this point she's still being tight lipped about her background, and all she's shared is that she sold fortunes in the city to pay her rent. But they have things in common because they are both selfish cunts who reluctantly start to care about the others around them, and they can have animated conversations about fashion, local baldur's gate politics, and necromancy.

He spontaneously offers favors, like mending her clothing or slipping healing potions/baubles he nicked off of the last merchant they passed into her bag. He does them as an incentive to get her in bed again but it feels nice when she is genuinely impressed by his work. She has an eye for detail that he grows to appreciate, particularly when it comes to himself as she is not at all the type to give him the shallow praise he wants. It becomes a game for him to get those little reactions from her because of his actions.

Then by the time they’ve made it to Last Light Inn he realizes that he’s even starting to look at her entirely differently. Her large nose was quite elegant actually, and her freckles weren’t nearly as hideous as he first thought, and actually in this lighting she was quite stunning, really. And her blood was really really good.

His oh moment happens after the Gauntlet of Shar. She clocks his scars as Infernal way back to their first time together, sketches it out so he can see it for himself, and is generally like “hey I see this is important to you, I can help if you let me.” And she proves it by killing Yurgir, no questions asked. Just goes out and kills a devil just because he needed it. He’s a step closer to achieving his seemingly impossible goals because of her. And she’s covered in devil blood and gore and reeks because no one has showered in weeks, but she’s looking at him with fondness in her eyes and blood in her mouth from the Merregon arrow she took to the face, and his chest hurts in a way it hasn’t in many years if ever.

So what starts as him molding himself into a more attractive honeypot for Morgan ends up being something that makes him go...oh I want this. I want this to be real.

Morgan herself grew up in a cult where her social relationships and interactions with outsiders were heavily controlled, and she was always warned about sweet talking men looking to steal her away. Once she got free of the cult, those guys became her type. She was perfectly content to have short but intense relationships that inevitably self destructed, and this was how she expected things to go if both of them survived their situations, until she caught feelings too.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #tav oc #sorry for the wall of text #just dumping thoughts #I have lots more thoughts for when they become an actual couple #ahhh this romance is so fun to play thru #bg3: morgan

[storkmuffin]

Hi! Your Black Sails liveblog has been a lot of fun to follow! I love your analysis of Max this season. She’s such a unique character who I sadly haven’t always paid enough attention to.

Your opinions on Silver are really interesting to me! I agree factually with a lot of your interpretations, but I just come out of it feeling differently, I guess. Personally, I think he isn’t actually running a con at this point in the story. An escape plan is integral to a successful con, but he’s too invested for that. John Silver, real or not, is the person that the people he cares about care about! He’s in over his head trying to stay in character with a conman’s skillset (useful) and mindset (disastrous).

I find him fascinating, though I can totally understand how someone can have the opposite reaction!

Hi!! Thank you for reading along as I lose my whole mind :D

What you said made me stand up very straight suddenly because I mostly am reacting protectively for James Flint & hadn't thought about it from this angle. But you'e right! When you ask the important questions -what the con is, what he wants to gain and how he wants to escape it - there isn't a con. There are goals Silver wants to achieve - not die (compared to his bestie Flint who sometimes just wants to die), not be imprisoned, have Madi, belong to a James Flint partnership, have worthy friends (I didn't say this at the time, but his wanting to understand why Max didn't kill him does feel like a friendship type of outreach), have some safety - which are kinda impossible because he's in the middle of a pirate revolution against the British Empire and his woman and his man are the leaders. I wonder if the line between fascination and revulsion is actually a lot thinner than I thought - because it's the conman skillset and methodology that I tend to have the most visceral reactions about, but it's what he has to rely on.

dot. dot. dot ...

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH that's what the thoughtful anon the other day was talking about - about how John Silver has a major self loathing element?? (Oh!!!!!!) (mouth open eyes blinking) Whatever his background is, he hates it and is so ashamed of it that he thinks if he reveals it to even James Flint, in front of whom he's willing to physically completely disrobe (remove the artificial leg and show the extent of his injury), he'll lose him and lose Madi by extension. Even though he didn't wanna be a pirate, doesn't wanna be a pirate, is ambivalent about being Long John etc, pirate is still more bearable than whatever he was before.

OMG DID I HAVE A BREAKTHROUGH? (I mean I have the rest of Ep 9 to still get through but still???)

#black sails asks #storkmuffin liveblog #stream of consciousness ask answering #john silver

[edgebug]

sometimes I think dumb thoughts like "maybe I'm not actually trans bc i don't have dysphoria and present neutral/fem as an afab person... maybe im faking :( do I have any right to call myself trans. I don't want to physically transition. am I transgending enough"

then i imagine being called by my deadname and she/her and i feel horror and revulsion and like. yeah ok, maybe the reason i don't have dysphoria is bc ive treated it. by changing my name and using they/them. amazing

#anyway you don't need dysphoria to be trans lol #there's just a gremlin that lives in my brain and says stupid shit sometimes

[acey-wacey]

Loathing

Pairing - Ace Trappola x Reader

Synopsis - You and Ace have butted heads since before you can remember but a series of unfortunate accidents leaves you forced to confront your feelings for each other.

Genre - childhood enemies to lovers, fluff, platonic fluff

Notes - have any of you seen Princess Diaries 2??

I live for platonic Grim fluff as well as wingman Grim

"Ugh! I hate him!"

Grim was launched out of his sweet dreams as you collapsed onto the couch he just so happened to be napping on. The cat rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his paw and turned around to scold you.

"Can you believe who got me in trouble with Professor Crewel today?"

Grim went still and groaned, knowing what that tone of voice meant.

"Is it Ace?" he said dryly.

"It's always Ace!" you exclaimed loudly, making Grim jump with fright. You groaned and leaned back into the couch. "He was screwing around in class and when he messed up my potion, I got in trouble for it. Can you believe it, Grim?"

You stood up from the couch forcefully and began pacing around the room. "Who does he think he is? That little son of a bandersnatch! He's always screwing around in class, he flirts with me just to make fun of me, and he's so headstrong! I can't deal with him!"

"He's headstrong like you?" Grim muttered, amused by your turmoil. You gasped in offense.

"I am not headstrong! It's Ace! He's the one who gets in trouble all the time! At least I can keep my mouth shut!" You ran a nervous hand through your hair and clenched your jaw together. "When I get my hands on him, I'm going to..."

"What? Kiss him?"

"Exactly! Wait, what?"

"Everybody can see you two have got a thing for each other," Grim yawned and curled back onto the couch, unbothered by the look of disgust you wore. "That kid just sucks at showing it. It's one of those dumb playground crush phenomenons. He likes you so he throws wood chips at you."

You gasped in complete revulsion as if you were having a physical reaction to Grim's suggestion.

"As if, Grim!" you laughed in disbelief, mentally stuffing Grim's observation into a "forget me" bottle. You began pacing around the room again in what you would claim to be frustration, although Grim could spot the flustered blush on your neck. "First of all, I hate him. Even suggesting that I would ever like someone like Ace makes me want to puke. Second, he's smarter than to think being mean to me would make me like him! He could figure out how to impress me and it sure isn't by messing with me? If he did want to show me he liked me then maybe he'd show off when he knows I'm watching one of his basketball games or flirt with me or leave little love notes on my desk..."

Grim interrupted your lovesick musings with a loud clearing of his throat. You shook your head to shake yourself out of those thoughts. No, you definitely hadn't thought about how Ace would court you! It would be silly to think things like that about your mortal enemy.

"And third, you are a delusional little cat and you don't know what you're talking about!" you huffed proudly, as if that would complete your argument.

"Meanie!" Grim yowled at you, curling up in the corner of the couch away from you. You sat down next to him and inched your hand towards him compassionately.

"Aw, come on, Grim. I didn't mean it," you admired ruefully. Grim just huffed and turned his head into the couch. "You know I love you."

Grim peeked out from the couch to eye you suspiciously before nuzzling into your hand.

"There we go, my pretty kitty."

"Don't think you're off the hook, henchman!" Grim hissed in a way that would've been threatening if he weren't curled up into a furry ball. He climbed over to sit on your lap and curled up into your stomach instead of in the couch. "And I am not your pretty kitty. I'm a big strong fearsome wizard and everybody fears me."

You giggled as he yawned, showing all his pointy teeth before drifting off to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, my big, strong, fearsome wizard."

...

You sighed in satisfaction as you did up the last gold button on your dark blue suit. It was designed by yourself specifically for the unbirthday party you had been invited to by none other than the Heartslabyul dorm leader himself. Your white lace cravat brought out the dark velvet details on the hem of your coat. You admired yourself in the mirror once more before checking the time.

"Sevens, I'm late," you cursed to yourself, rushing out of your room. You waved goodbye to Grim and made your way to the Heartslabyul gardens where all the dorm members were already waiting.

"I'm here!" you exclaimed as you burst into the garden unceremoniously, struggling to catch your breath. Another quick peek at your pocket watch told you you were one minute to being late. You breathed a sigh of relief before looking up at Riddle with a pleading expression. "Please don't be angry."

"Y/N."

The glare you were receiving from Riddle was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You rushed to your assigned seat with a sheepish look on your face.

"Don't you know it's rude to be late to a tea party?" Riddle sighed in exasperation. The other dorm members held their breaths, fully expecting him to explode on you.

"I'm sorry, Riddle. It won't happen again." You looked down at your fiddling hands with due embarrassment. Riddle seemed pleased enough with your apology and began to continue with the ceremony. That is, until he was interrupted.

"That's no fair!"

You rolled your eyes upon hearing the very familiar, very annoying voice belonging to a particular boy that had made your life hell the week prior.

"Ace Trappola! It is unacceptable to interrupt me during the proceedings of a proper unbirthday party!" Riddle slammed his hands on the table in response to the outburst, making the whole table shake.

Ace just huffed and crossed his arms, seemingly unbothered by Riddle's tantrum.

"But Y/N is late to an unbirthday tea party! How many times have I been chewed out for the exact same thing when all Y/N gets is a slap on the wrist?" Ace argued, gesturing to you accusatory. You scoffed and looked away from him, though you were paying close attention to his figure in your peripheral.

"Y/N is not a member of Heartslabyul and thus does not deserve as harsh a punishment as someone who is expected to know all the rules," Riddle defended, making Ace scrunch his nose up in a way that you would have thought was cute if it were anyone but him.

"No one here knows all the rules except you!" Ace exclaimed, very worked up about the injustice of your arrival. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at him.

"Just hush up, Trappola. I wasn't even late and you're the one holding up the party," you sneered at him, earning one right back.

"I'm just pointing out a clear bias that I think is unfair to the rest of us." Ace held up his hands in surrender, attempting to play the victim though you had already condemned him. You huffed and stuck your tongue out childishly at him. He stuck his tongue out back before the two of you were interrupted by another slam on the table.

Riddle was practically fuming when you finally pulled away from your hateful eye contact with Ace. The dorm leader's face was as red as his hair and, though Trey was frantically trying to calm him down, he seemed about ready to explode.

"You brats are ruining my unbirthday party!" Riddle finally snapped and yelled as loud as was humanly possible. You could almost feel the force of the scream. "Ace, as a member of Heartslabyul, I expect you to act with poise and dignity, especially when we have guests."

Ace's confidence visibly sagged. You smiled at him smugly before Riddle snapped you to attention.

"And Y/N! Don't think you're off the hook just because I invited you. I expected you to act like a proper guest at a proper tea party but here you are, showing up late and flaunting around like some kind of hooligan! Well, I've had enough I say!"

"Riddle, please," Trey pleaded to no avail.

"I have had enough! Get out! You both are exiled to the rose maze until you learn how to behave like civilized students."

"But Riddle..." You tried to reason with him but he silenced you with a raise of his hand.

"I will hear none of it. Out now or it's off with your head."

You ashamedly scooted your chair out and trudged to the entrance to the rose maze. You gazed wistfully at a sugar-coated chouquette you had been hoping to sample but with a stern look from Riddle, the tea party soon disappeared into green bushes as you walked out of sight.

Ace followed close behind you. As soon as you were out of sight, you elbowed him in the side. He clutched his "injury" and stared at you incredulously.

"What was that for?"

"This is all your fault," you pointed at him with a very accusatory finger. He held his hands up in surrender, apparently stunned by your accusation.

"How is this my fault? You showed up late and then started arguing with me!"

"But you were the one who started the arguing!"

"But you kept arguing!"

You groaned so loud you were sure you could be heard by the rest of the dorm. You buried your face in your hands and pulled your face down in exasperation.

When you moved your hands and took notice of your surroundings, you realized where you were.

You were at the center of the rose maze, with a marble fountain standing in the middle. You were almost swept away by the tranquility of the setting compared to the company you kept.

The quiet burbling of the fountain made perfect white noise in the clearing of rose bushes, each one perfectly painted crimson red for the party. Birds chirped merrily from their perches atop the thorny bushed.

It was so peaceful, you almost forgot Ace was there. When you finally remembered, you exhaled sharply, destroying the atmosphere.

"You are the worst, you know that?" you huffed at Ace, taking a step toward him. He groaned and rolled his eyes. Once your arguments got started, they didn't stop for a long time.

"Pray tell, O Judgemental One," Ace bowed mockingly, keeping your gaze as his head dipped. "Why am I the worst?"

"You...!" Your entire reasoning fled your mind when you noticed how his shirt lowered as he bowed, exposing his chest. You looked away as soon as you noticed and turned to hide your blushing face. "This is why! You keep messing with my head!"

"I'm messing with..! I'm not even doing anything!"

"Yes, you are!" you insisted, earning another groan from Ace. You crossed your arms, insistent in your conclusion. "You do that weird flirty thing to make fun of me all the time! And don't think I didn't notice just now how you tried to make me look down your shirt!"

Ace straightened at your words and clutched his shirt to his chest.

"You were looking down my shirt, Y/N?"

"No!" You nearly shrieked, praying he mistook the embarrassment on your face for anger. "Not internationally. Only because you were doing it on purpose!"

"I wasn't doing anything on purpose." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at you with a stupid smirk. "You sure you weren't just trying to get a peek of me under my clothes?"

"You see this is what I'm talking about!" You started walking around the fountain to relieve the heat in your face, though Ace followed, much to your chagrin. "You're doing a weird flirty thing and I hate it!"

"Sounds like you're just flustered, Y/N."

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around, meeting Ace face-to-face. He had stopped a little after you so you were much closer than before. Your noses were almost touching as you leaned in to slap his shoulder.

"I loathe you."

He slapped your shoulder back, earning an offended gasp.

"I loathe you."

"I loathed you first!" you insisted, your eyes absentmindedly flicking to his lips as your faces were brought closer by your arguing. You noticed all too much when Ace licked his lips, parting them slightly.

Before you knew what was happening, your lips were connected. Your eyes widened in shock as Ace wrapped his arms around your waist but you soon relaxed, bringing your hands to his neck and pulling him closer. Your mind was screaming at you to stop but for some reason you just couldn't.

With one particularly loud mental protest, your eyes flung open and you shoved away. Ace's eyes fluttered open with confusion as you pulled away.

"What is wrong with you?" you yelled, wiping your mouth and praying that the heat on your face wasn't showing too much. "You can't just go around kissing people!"

You took a lap around the fountain and Ace chased after you.

"What do you mean? You kissed me?"

"Oh, you think you're so charming!" you groaned. "Well, let me tell you something...!"

"What, that you hate me?" Ace raised an eyebrow. "That's not a surprise anymore, Y/N. Or are you gonna tell me you've secretly been in love with me this whole time?"

You took a deep breath, your hands shaking with... Something. Probably rage. Hopefully.

"What, you wanna kiss again and find out?"

You stopped in your tracks, cursing your traitorous brain for actually thinking about it.

"No, I don't. I want pastries and I want to go back to my dorm and cuddle with my cat!" you yelled as you made your way toward one of the exits to the maze.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"No, I do not!" you called back. You were about to reenter the maze when you were jerked back by a hand on your wrist.

"You're gonna get lost!" Ace argued, not even noticing how his other hand absentmindedly landed on your hip.

"I don't care, get your hands off me!" you tried to push him away but Ace's grip was firm and your tugging just set both of you off balance.

You toppled over into the fountain with a shriek, taking Ace with you.

You pulled your head above water and gasped for air. Before Ace had even surfaced, you were splashing him with water.

"When I get my hands on you, Ace, I'm gonna-"

You were interrupted by the click of a camera shutter.

Cater was standing in the closest entrance to the maze, cellphone in hand and apparently taking many great angles of your slip up.

"This is unexpected," he said with a sly grin on his face. "Ace and the prefect. Gotta say though, I've been shipping you two for months."

"You're not gonna post those, are you?" Ace glared at Cater, his eyes wide with genuine fear. "Cater?"

Cater smirked deviously, reminding you both just how much of a schemer he was.

"That depends on how fast you can run."

The two of you jumped out of the fountain and took off after Cater who had bolted away with his blackmail photos, giggling all the way back to the garden.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #heartslabyul

[improbablecarny]

the fact that women doing physical activity or wearing business-professional attire is all it takes to rouse the hoardes over the “masculinization” of women in media is just completely wild. 

no, that woman in blue jeans and a ponytail with natural makeup isn’t “masculine”, she is dressed like every other woman at the grocery store. no, that woman wearing a blazer over a blouse and dress pants in an office setting in fucking 2023 isn’t “masculine”. no, that superhero in a catsuit and high heels with 0 muscle definition shot specifically to always look as attractive as possible isn’t masculine, no matter how many bad guys she beats up.

every single time you open your mouths to cry about this you betray the fact that you:

believe women “looking attractive”, having “good outfits”, et al is something only achievable through femininity

define femininity in of itself as a narrow set of appearances and behaviours that are overwhelmingly cis, white, abled and thin.

believe that the concept of women being physically proficient, in combat or otherwise, is something that was invented by “male feminist” media moguls in the 2000s

do not consider butchness a legitimate state of womanhood

do not consider the harshly gendered struggles of butchness to be legitimate and worthy of depiction in media, and that any struggles a woman might have with the expectations of femininity are just whining about being “not like the other girls”

consider butchness a ploy by male writers to make women more palpable for men (in the process revealing that you do not know a single butch in real life and know everything you know about the LGBT+ community from pop feminist articles written by people trying to sell you something)

are okay with butch representation only when it appears in the form of side characters or “very special episode” moments -- meaning, as long as it always come secondary to the feminine leads

the only female protagonists worthy of depiction are the ones that you, personally, can identify with. 

and there’s always the backtracking, the “oh I don’t hate butches, it’s the MEN --” and we know this is bullshit because of the ways you talk about “masculine” female characters with utter revulsion. you never say “I do not like the way that Johnny Screenwriter characterized Princess Fluffins as hating fashion since she’s always loved fashion!”, it’s all grumbling about some vast conspiracy to “make female characters masculine”, because you think female masculinity in of itself is a flaw that needs to be corrected. 

stop fooling yourselves because the rest of us don’t believe it and I am tired of being expected to coddle butchphobia from fandombrained “feminists” who refuse to interrogate their own biases or learn to articulate their arguments without throwing masculine women under the bus.

[fagbearentertainment]

i like the style of one piece and tge concept sounds cool and I’ve heard good things but the women…… they are so scary looking. and not in a good way. I like the way they’re faces are drawn, less so when I realized they’re all more of less the same. But everytime I look past tge shoulders of any of them I just am scared. They look so wrong. And like, it’d be fine if it were only a handful of female characters that were drawn like that, but it’s every single one. I managed to make through like 90 percent of Naruto (got bored with the war and didn’t finish) and that was so incredibly misogynistic but the women at least looked mostly normal. It just sucks cuz I wish I could watch one piece without having physical revulsion cuz it looks like a lotta fun :-( (not trying to drag you down for watching! Just talking I guess)

No yeah I agree the women in One Piece are horrible. The proportions are so bad and it goes WAY past normal anime exaggerations.

Thats one perk of the live action show tho, the women are actual people so they look like actual people

#not a poll #one piece