#no race fetishization allowed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shotmrmiller · 4 months

Text

Tormented by a Ghost

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: small mention of smut and simon being kinda mean

TY TO MY BETA FOR MAKING THIS 10X BETTER @c-h-a-r-n-i-k

Tired of living with your family, you decide to move out. There's just one problem— Rent is too costly to afford on your own. You complain about it to your friend, and they tell you that they know someone who's also looking for a roommate and preferably another female. Fantastic!

Your friend gives you her number and ya'll are moving in together by the end of the month. It was great. No nagging parents, no micromanagement, nothing. You loved it. Until your roommate brings her man over. And he's a fucking bully.

You're crawling home from a hard day at work, and you want nothing more than some wine on a quiet night. Unlocking the door, you step into the flat. The lights aren't turned on so you assume your roommate isn't home.

Dumping your bag in your room, you make a beeline towards the kitchen. As you're bent over in the fridge, your roommate's door opens.

"Hey,” you call out, "I'm pourin' myself a glass of wine if you're interested!"

Then an assertive, baritone voice speaks from behind you.

"You must be the roommate."

You give an ear-piercing scream as you jump, whipping around to face him with a hand over your racing heart.

"Fuckin' hell! No, it's okay, I don't need my hearin' er nothin'." he scolds.

"What the fuck! I almost flat-lined with my head in the fridge because of you!"

Then you get a good look at him. This monster of a man is a minimum 6'3, with a black balaclava covering his face, a black long-sleeve shirt, and grey sweats. You tried real hard to not ogle the tattoo that stains his exposed left arm. And the grey sweats, we all know why. Cursed be your fetish for thick forearms and big hands.

He leans his head back, looking down his nose at you.

"I think it'd be an improvement," he says, "You face down, I mean," and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline as he chuckles.

You don't know who he thinks he is, talking to you—a complete stranger— like that but you aren't about to take his shit.

You sneer. "Fuck you. Yeah, I bet that's the view you get the most. Women willingly turn away to not get a look at your mug. Did my roommate ask you to put that mask on so she could face you during sex?"

He steps forward, his height allowing him to tower over you, and growls out, "You callin' me ugly?"

Smirking, you roll your eyes. Of course.

"I don't see any other reason for you to hide your face. Not that it matters to me— I'm not the one that has to tolerate it."

His eyes squint at you as he retorts, "I'm quite the opposite."

Opening your mouth, you're about to tell him that he can say whatever helps him sleep at night when your roommate calls out to the big brute in front of you.

"Ghost? What's taking so long?" she asks.

You tried and failed miserably to hide your mocking giggle at hearing his name, and he leers at you in response. "Go on, Ghost. You're being called back into the realm of the dead."

As he steps away, he says with contempt, "Dumb little bird doesn't know what she's talking about," before walking over to your roommate, looping his arm around her shoulders and going into her room.

He probably doesn't even know your name and he laid into you like he's hated you his whole life. After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you shake your head and walk towards your bedroom. Freak.

One day, after having your friend with benefits over in the morning for some nice stress relief, you walk him out. And fucking Ghost is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You quickly shuffle your friend out the door, face glowing with embarrassment.

Why was he here? Jesus Christ, now he's going to watch you do the walk of shame around the flat. Hopefully, he won't say anything. As you walk away from the door to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, Ghost speaks up.

"Well, that was pathetic."

You hang your head and close your eyes in resignation. Should've known someone as toxic as he wouldn't mind his own goddamn business.

"What now, Ghost?"

He sounds oddly smug as he says, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and I didn't hear anything coming out of your room. Sounds like he doesn't know what to do with a cunt."

Behind gritted teeth, you grind out, "Don't worry about my pussy, bud. You've got yours coming in," and you hold the n as you look at your watch, "30 minutes. Now piss off."

As you stomp away towards your room, the bottle of water all but forgotten, you hear him let out a deep chuckle. He's an asshole. A physically attractive one, sans the face, but still an asshole. You're going to have to get your friend to come over more often if Ghost is going to continue being around with those jacked arms and deliciously tight grey sweats.

Sucking your teeth, you make a mental note to ask your roommate why she gave him a key to your shared flat without asking.

A week later, your roommate has Ghost over and you figure it'd be a good time to get some action yourself. You send him a text and in less than 20 minutes, you're letting him in. Hugging him, you tell him to go to the bedroom. But he's not paying attention to you— he's looking directly behind you.

Turning around to look, it's Ghost. Goddamn it. And this time he's shirtless with his arms crossed and a skull mask on. God fucking damn it. Pulling the arm of your friend, he looks down at you and you tell him to go on, that you'll be there soon.

He nods, walking away with one last look at the phantom leaning against your roommate's door. Exhaling a ragged sigh, you turn back to Ghost.

"Can I help you?"

He shakes his head mutely before responding, "No, lovie, but I can help you." You shake your head at his nonsense.

"No. I'm not doing this with you."

You turn to walk away when he speaks again.

"Yer really gonna let him touch you again? He clearly doesn't know what he's doing— Bedroom's silent as a crypt. Even with those glasses he's got on, he can't find what he should be lookin' for."

Insulted for your friend, you face Ghost with a disbelieving look on your face.

"You're not seriously standing here trying to cockblock me. You—" his audacity has you stammering, "You have no idea what I'm like. Maybe I'm just naturally quiet in bed."

Ghost stares at you for a solid minute before he shrugs and goes back to your roommate.

Unbelievable asshole. Why does he have to look so good shirtless, the berk.

You start noticing that Ghost is there a couple of hours before your roommate gets there and you'd think it's weird if you weren't too busy being distracted by the fact that he's always taunting you one way or the other. And then one day, you question him on it.

"You do know your girlfriend won't be home until the evening? It's barely 3."

Ghost turns his head from the TV to look at you and grunts.

"Not my girlfriend." That's news to you.

"Then why you spendin' so much time over here? You're gonna have me thinkin' you like spending time in my delightful presence." you banter with a teasing smile.

Ghost continues to stare at you and the heated look in his eyes confuses you but then he turns back to the TV.

"I can't stand ya, ya daft bint."

You pretend you don't hear the muted tenderness in his voice.

And on a sunny day, it all comes crashing down. The boys are over again, but this time Ghost is boring holes into the back of your head as you both go into your respective rooms. You're straddling your boy's hips shirtless when you hear your roommate's furious yelling from the other side of the flat and then stomping towards the front door before it slams closed.

After your bedroom door is busted open, the bolt being broken out of the faceplate from the brutal strength behind the force— and you're jumping off the bed and crossing your arms over your exposed chest.

It's Ghost and he's staring directly at your friend on the bed.

"No." He stomps over to grab your friend by his shirt and drags him off the bed and towards the front door before tossing him against it with a nasty-sounding slam.

"Get the fuck out."

Your friend is spluttering when Ghost cuts him off.

"If I see you here again, I'm turnin’ those silly little glasses," and he taps a lens with his finger, "into contacts. Now get the fuck out. I won't repeat myself." And with that, he trips over his own feet running out the door.

You're standing in the living room. eyes are wide in disbelief. What just happened? There's a moment of silence before Ghost breaks it.

"Your roommate won't be coming back today." He walks over to you picks you up to sit you on the kitchen countertop and lifts his mask over his mouth.

"Now. You're going to come on my tongue before I fuck you and personally test out this 'I'm quiet' theory, pet." You look down at him and sigh.

"I think I'm gonna need a new roommate," you lament.

Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he says, "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. I'll be moving in with you. Also, no. You don't have a choice."

He digs his fingers into your thigh and purrs against your skin, “If you find it in you to scream, my real name’s Simon.”

And with the way his usually sharp tongue delicately rubs against your clit, you can't find it in you to argue.

A/N: dreamt of this and it had me in a chokehold.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

981 notes · View notes

lucysarah-c · 5 months

Text

If I tell you a secret, you swear to keep it?

Captain Levi wasn't sure when all of this started, and he dared to say that it had never truly begun; perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Was it due to stress, the lack of sleep, something he ate, or perhaps something in the air? Could it be some hallucinating mold he hadn't heard of before, requiring him to deep clean the entire Scouts' facility?

Somehow, it made him feel morally wrong and, overall, childish. Levi had drawn the attention of his own squad by doing so. He told Jean and Connie that it was inappropriate to stare at a person for so long, emphasising that, as their superior, you deserved respect. Hormonal teenagers, especially boys, saw a hole in a wall and wondered if they could stick their dick inside. They seemed unable to think of anything else when the other head was doing the thinking.

You haven't been working for the Scouts for long, but Levi dared to say it's been long enough for him to feel somewhat comfortable around you. You're the nurse sent by the medical sector to fill the infirmary. Levi understood the nature of the job—a common fetishized and sexualized profession. It didn't help that the male cadets from his squad acted as if they had never seen an ankle. The pristine white uniform was modest and always had been, but Jean saw a skirt despite its length, and his face turned red.

Even though Levi understood all of that and more, why was he reacting this way? You asked him if he wanted the flu shot that the government had sent, and he agreed. His hand gripped the edge of his shirt sleeve as he sat down in the infirmary, yet his eyes were fixed elsewhere. Your silhouette against the window, the still strong autumn sun coming through, almost making your clothes transparent. He could see the shadow of your legs underneath, your rosy lips as you played with the pencil while reading reports, your soft hands—why were they so soft?—against his arm as you prepared the skin, your big doll eyes looking up at him as you examined the skin for a good syringe penetration. "It may hurt a little, Captain," you said. Levi had to remind himself to breathe and swallow the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. His brain had decided to stop working; he couldn't have a single rational thought.

"Oops," you casually said as a few papers flew because of the open window, moving hastily to close it and then bending down to pick them up. Your modest skirt softly raised, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the tender flesh of your inner legs. 'I bet they are even softer than her hands,' he thought.

What was he thinking? Forcing himself to look elsewhere as she walked back to him to put a band-aid on after the shot, he hadn't ever felt this way. "You may feel a little bit down today or tomorrow. If you feel like you are getting a bit of a fever, that's also normal," her voice came so soft. "There, green," she chuckled, "so it matches your cloak."

Levi's eyes travelled down to admire the green band-aid as if he were a kid in need of colourful stuff to celebrate his bravery in taking a flu shot. "Thanks," he grunted out as he lowered his folded sleeve. There wasn't anything he wished for more than to run out of there. It was humiliating how he felt he couldn't control his own thoughts. You were being your usual nice and cheerful self, sometimes a well-received contrast to the harsh life of a scout. But today, he simply couldn't take it.

Levi groaned softly, tossing and turning in his bed. His mind was racing with conflicting emotions: shame, disgust, desire, and a hint of excitement. "It's the shot, I must be getting a fever or something," he tried to self gaslight himself out of it. He had plenty of paperwork to do, why did he decided to try to catch some rest? Eyes forcefully closed, trying to convince himself to use this time to sleep. When the idea of you kneeling between his legs, under his desk, big cheerful eyes looking up to him, teeth biting down and smiling. Levi shook his head vigorously, banishing the lewd thoughts for now. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself.

However it was too late, he could feel the tent in his trousers, demanding him attention. Levi groaned softly, his hand slipping inside his trouser's waistband. It wasn't long before he had freed his erect member from its confines, rubbing it against the fabric of his boxers. The sensation was driving him wild, and he rested on the side, arching his hips slightly to increase the contact. His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, growing harder and heavier in his grasp.

The image of you bent over flashed through his mind like a cruel tease, his loins burning with desire. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shake off the thoughts. But the pull was too strong, and he couldn't resist any longer.

Then, he sat up abruptly, unable to contain himself anymore. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. He kicked off the sheet and stripped. The last thing he needed was sleeping in stained sheets.

Levi's cock throbbed with need, his erect member stood tall and proud, leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach.

Heart racing like a wild animal penned up too long, leaping onto the mattress, he landed on top of it with a thud, arching his hips upwardwards. Mouth gathering the saliva before he spit on his right hand and let his head fall backwards. "Fuck…" he groaned out, unable to resist it any longer. He wanted release so badly it hurt.

His hand moved on its own, fast and harsh. Closing his eyes imagined something better than his own hand, pushing the foreskin of his cock to reveal the head and began to pump it. Levi's eyes remained closed as he let his imagination run free. You were standing before him, a curvy figure illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. His cock twitched in anticipation, leaking more of his sticky pre-cum onto his stomach. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his member, stroking it roughly yet somewhat tenderly. Perfect body crawling on top of him.

His hand moved faster as the fantasy turned more explicit. You sat down on his legs and his dick buried balls deep in your hole as you rode him with energy. "Yes! Mh-Ahg so big" you would say. "Captain!" moaning out his title, head thrown backwards, messy hair falling like a waterfall "Cap- ahh yesss, fuck me harder!"

You sucking him in, taking all of him so effortlessly as if you were made to take this cock. "You feel me right there? I'm rearranging your guts,". Your mouth hanging open while letting out the loudest moans and your eyes rolled backwards.

Grunting heavily, he brought his other hand to his balls, squeezing them rhythmically to heighten his arousal "You're a filthy whore, aren't ya? this cunt loves swallowing my load" he murmured as if his fantasy could hear it.

Levi's hand quickened its pace, his cock throbbing in sync with his heartbeat. The head of his member was glistening with precum, leaking copiously onto his stomach. His breathing grew heavier, almost labored as he imagined fucking you rough and hard.

In his mind's eye, you were panting heavily almost sobbing of how good it felt each time you sinked down and his hips snapped upwards. Your body quivering with each powerful thrust. "Enjoying that dick, pretty?" he growled, his voice low and husky.

You would be hanging your mouth open unable to think anymore, head bobbing as you hummend positively as saliva slightly dropped from the corner of your lips. His cock was starting to twitch violently, warning him that release was imminent.

"Captain…" you would whimper softly in his mind, begging for more. "Please give me your cum, please… I won't waste a drop."

Levi's hand tightened its grip on his throbbing member, moving faster and harder. His abdominal muscles contracted rhythmically as he neared his climax. "I'm close, Y/N," he growled out your name raggedly. "Right there…"

With one final powerful thrust, he released his seed, shooting hot white ropes onto her stomach and chest. Panting heavily, he continued to pump his cock slowly until it was painful to keep going.

Collapsing on the bed, Levi lay there for several minutes, catching his breath. Gradually, the post-orgasmic bliss began to fade, replaced by a haze of embarrassment and confusion. What had just happened? How could he have thought such filthy things about a fellow soldier? A nurse? He groaned softly, sitting up on the edge of the bed, trying to compose himself.

He felt embarrassed for multiple reasons. First, he had just seen a skirt raised up a bit and he got hard as a teenager. Even worse, as a teen he jerked off a couple of times and came all over his own body. It felt stupid how sexually frustrated he was. If it wasn't because his hands were still filthy, he would be groaning with his head in his hands while questioning himself how he was going to face you in the hallways.

Was it the uniform? The skirt? You were undoubtedly gorgeous, but… Was it because most of the women in the Scouts didn't have time to take care of their appearance, or they simply didn't care? There was something stupidly arousing about your soft and clear skin, how you took care of yourself, the tight little waist highlighting the difference between your swinging hips underneath the skirt, perky breasts under the blouse.

"Captain," your cloying voice whispered his worst intentions, "Captain, you need a hand?"

Levi's eyes, looking to his left, caught your mischievous smile as you looked at him. "I… Um…" He was confused.

"Do you want a hand, Cap?" you asked again, looking deeply into his eyes. 'Well… if you want to…' he wondered, lost as your eyes softly looked down and then back up.

"Do you need help?" The haze of sexually inciting began to fade. "With the tea, I mean… you had been staring at the kettle for ten minutes," your voice now lacked all the previous sweetness, and he felt like an idiot.

"No, thanks," he spat back, angry but not at you. Levi forced himself to get back into his senses and returned to brew his own tea.

"You sure? You seem a bit… lost," you commented. He groaned an unworded reply and then handed you a cup. Soft fingers brushed against his before raising the liquid to your lips, letting out a pleased moan. "Ah~ nothing better than tea in the mornings," you said before adding with an innocent smile, "Hot, strong, and deep, exactly as I like it."

Levi swore he was trying to breathe, but he simply couldn't. "Have a nice morning, thanks for the tea! You really know how I like it," you said back before walking away. 'Maybe I should visit a church or something.'

Yet his eyes were still glued to your back as you walked away, skirt swinging as you moved. He didn't mean to stare, but something smacked him on the head with strength, forcing him back to his senses. "Oi!" he turned around to confront the person, only to find Hange with a handful of papers rolled up in their hand.

"Stop staring~" they signed back with a mischievous smile.

"I wasn't," he replied while his hand caressed the top of his head. "Stop laughing, four eyes," he insisted as he could hear Hange's chuckles.

Suddenly, Hange wrapped an arm around his shoulders, resting their entire weight on them, and their heads touching. "You know… if I tell you a secret, you swear to keep it, right?"

"Get off my ass," Levi replied, not interested in being dragged into Hange's silly games.

"The other day, I was talking to Erwin," their voice dropped as they began to whisper, "And we both agreed that Y/N has such a great ass."

Both looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, Levi frowning deeply.

"Don't tell the cadets, though… we don't want to set a bad example."

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon Wanna join my tag list? Here!

446 notes · View notes

meat-wentz · 9 months

Text

okay so i’m gonna say here: listen. you’re allowed to think and say whatever you want. sometimes though when you put those things on a large public platform other people will read them and they may find what you have to say hurtful, and it may be your first instinct to go on the defense and say uhm okay get a life if you find this hurtful, but you’ve gotta admit somewhere along the line that if this many people find what you have to say upsetting, there’s a reason why and they’re not crazy for seeing the offending pieces even if you don’t. you don’t have to be intentionally racist to say something racist or intentionally fatphobic to say something fatphobic or intentionally transphobic to say something transphobic etc. you may not even see what you said that was offensive but that’s why you have to listen.

you have to trust that marginalized people (and i’m directing this to marginalized people too) have spent the entirety of their lives picking up on how people speak to and about them to the point where they can see the hurtful matter underneath the seemingly kindest of words. and we’re sick of the way our personhood is approached and the way it’s hidden between words and they way the insult cuts like a knife even when it’s dressed as a compliment. you may not see the offending matter but maybe it’s important to listen to people who do, maybe it’s important to realize it’s not actually about you it’s about acknowledging hurt where hurt was dealt and listening and learning as to how it happened. you’re not evil for saying things, but there are lots of people here trying to explain why they’re flagging your words, maybe you should listen to them.

i’m japanese and which means i have flags for so many innocuous things. when people approach me with the words cute or quiet or small or comment on my hair or mention anime or mention even the most mundane part of my culture like ramen or sushi, my ears prick up. it’s a defense mechanism, all of these seemingly innocent things are things that have been used to fetishize or ostracize me, have been used to hurt me or place me beneath, i have flags on them for good reason, to protect myself. so people may not know why it feels weird to me when they use certain language around and about me, so i’ll literally tell them. it’s strange how many people i’ve known that have immediately put up their defenses because they thought i was calling them evil for saying something so innocent rather than listen to my lived experience of how this language has been used against me and why i prefer different language. it’s so strange how many queer white people i know who are amenable to my pronouns but aren’t amenable to the language i prefer to address me based on my experience being the race i am.

idk i guess the thesis of this is you’re not evil but also maybe listen to the people who are telling you there’s hurt beneath your words even if you don’t know it’s there.

#last thing i’m saying tonight #idk if this makes sense #i lied this was not the last thing i posted tonight

609 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

Profane | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where during scenes, all the control Y/N has over her life and body is completely given away to Matt's big and perfect hands.

Warning: smut (mdni), dom!Matt, BDSM (!!!), sadomasochism, bondage, dom/sub dynamic, pleasure in physical pain, restraint, degradation, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasm, use of blindfold. PLEASE, read with caution.

Requested?: No.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Please, I'll be good." Y/N asked almost in a trance. Her body was sitting on the double bed in her shared room with Matt, her legs crossed and her hands on top of her thighs with palms facing up.

She looked at him through her eyelashes, an expression of desperation on her features. Her heart was racing, and her skin was constantly crawling in anticipation.

“Then take off your clothes for me."

The two had just returned from a party where they hadn't even stayed 30 minutes, the air heavy with the smell of marijuana and drink, the loud music and thousands of people pressed together and rubbing against each other made the couple go mad. They hated this type of event and were wondering why they even agreed to go.

But one good thing came out of it, Matt looked strangely hot in his more-than-ordinary clothes, and Y/N found herself pressing her thighs during all that small time, her pussy asking for contact, but knowing that she should stay in silence and don't beg like a little slut.

But when they got home, there was nothing that could stop her from doing it. After all, she loved being Matt's slut inside four walls.

"Do you want me to-" She stopped her sentence abruptly. She hadn't been allowed to speak.

Matt smiled roguishly, he knew that she had stopped talking precisely because of him, but decided to ignore the fact that she had even opened her mouth.

He loved that, the feeling of power.

The brunette took a few steps forward, stopping in front of his girl, his head slightly tilted down as he analyzed her face carefully, his features carrying a false pity.

He lifted his right hand and brought it to Y/N's face, palm fitting perfectly on her flushed cheek, caressing her soft, warm skin. His thumb traveled to her pink lips, which were slightly wet with saliva from her tongue.

Y/N held back the moan, letting out a sigh instead, when Matt caressed her lower lip, parting her mouth in a silent request to be filled.

"You heard me, baby. If you want me, then take your clothes off." Matt ordered again, his voice was husky and deep. "Now." His thumb left her lips as quickly as he touched them, his ring and middle fingers tapping lightly against her cheek before pulling away completely.

Matt now had a cold look in his eyes, mixed with amusement and lust. His biggest fetish was having Y/N completely submissive to him.

He walked a few steps back, sitting in his gaming chair, spreading his legs so that Y/N could see his erection marking the fabric from afar, her eyes remaining fixed there long enough to make her salivate.

Rising slowly, the girl planted her feet on the ground, taking her hands to the hem of her flowy dress, lingering there while her eyes dipped into the blue pools that stared back at her with intensity.

Y/N looked down momentarily. She knew that if she continued looking at him, she would get lost there.

"Look at me while you take off your clothes, I didn't give you permission to look away." The boy's authoritative and serious tone slightly startled Y/N, who looked up quickly as she swallowed hard, nodding slowly, an apology on the tip of her tongue, which she swallowed back.

Her hands slowly lifted the skirt of her dress, passing it over her hips, then her waist and, finally, her bra-covered breasts, before removing it completely from her body, throwing the piece on the floor beside her.

Her eyes remained on the blue ones she loved so much, her hands working on the clasp of her bra, letting the piece slide down her arms before going to her pantyhose and panties. Her body bent slightly forward as she lowered them completely down her legs.

The girl's eyes now looked at Matt's from below, and she swore she saw the boy swallow hard with the vision.

Her spine straightened seconds after throwing the last piece aside, her naked body completely on display. Her cheeks burned, and she felt her hands tingle as they wanted to cover her private parts. No matter how many times they had done it - and there were many -, she always felt intimidated by the dark-haired man's deep gaze.

"Good, lie down on the bed." Matt ordered again, remaining in the same position as his eyes assiduously watched Y/N's movements.

She nodded, turning to the bed and lying down quietly, keeping her body straight and her eyes on the ceiling as she waited for a touch, order, anything.

Matt slowly got up from his chair, walking to their closet. His hands pulled the door on his side, opening a specific drawer. His eyes traveled over the items there, deciding what he would do that night.

Matt's fingers passed lightly over each object, stopping at specific ones and taking them; that day's scene wouldn't be so intense, since that week he already had to punish Y/N and he knew that her emotional state couldn't handle anything too strong in a short space of time. So he just chose a blindfold and a small rope.

The boy turned and walked back to the bed, standing next to Y/N's head. She could see him in her field of vision, struggling not to look up and see what he was holding. But that wasn't necessary, as Matt raised his hand that was with holding them, showing it to her.

"I'm going to use the blindfold and bind your hands today, do you understand?" He spoke, or rather, stated. There was no opening for complaints or petitions there. Y/N nodded slightly, but Matt's gaze told her he wanted a vocal response.

"Yes." Y/N spoke for the first time since they started, her voice coming out shaky and breathless. She always felt like that when they did a scene, euphoric.

"Lift your head so I can fix the blindfold on you." Matt ordered, bending down slightly and covering the girl's eyes with the marsala red fabric, arranging it so that she couldn't see anything but the dark.

Y/N felt her body heat up instantly, her senses automatically sharpening.

Her arms gave a little jump when Matt's large met held them, not expecting the touch. The boy slid his fingers down to Y/N's hands, pulling them up so that they were above her head, crossing her wrists and tying the rope there in a strategic and perfect knot, taking the ends to the headboard, ensuring that she wouldn't get out of that position so easily.

"Too tight?" The boy's voice sounded too close to her ear, and Y/N had to hold back a groan, rubbing her thighs on the bed as she shook her head no. "Good, stay still."

Honestly, she wouldn't mind if it was tighter; Matt has tied knots that left her skin scarred for days, and she loved it.

Matt's touch and human warmth quickly drifted away, Y/N's body automatically begging to feel him again, even if with phantom touches.

The sound of a zipper opening sounded throughout the room, then the metal of a belt hitting the floor. Y/N's tongue slipped out of her mouth, wetting her lips as the image of Matt's naked body materialized in her mind, her own body reacting almost instantly to it.

Seconds or minutes passed, and the girl's patience was already hanging by a thread as her intimacy seemed to drip against the sheet below. Her mind almost screamed in relief as she felt the mattress dip beside her, and then Matt's body seemed to be hovering over hers.

The boy positioned himself between his girlfriend's delicious thighs, spreading them wider with his knees.

His blue eyes momentarily traveled over the exposed body in front of him; her skin so pale, seeming to beg to be marked, her tits pert, perhaps due to the air conditioning or because of her lust.

The boy lightly bit his lower lip as he got a small glimpse of his girl's pussy between her open legs, the shine of her honey attracting his gaze and it was as if he could smell and taste her from there.

He lowered his equally naked body onto his girl's one, his hands supporting his weight on either side of Y/N's head, his back flexing with his movements. He passed his lips along her skin in an almost non-existent touch, longing to feel the natural taste.

Matt placed his head in the crook of Y/N's neck, starting to distribute kisses and bites to the area, a sigh escaping her lips.

His lips and teeth worked together, taking turns between open, wet lip seals or light bites, which didn't hurt her much, but would definitely leave a mark. The contradiction between pain and caress sent shocks through Y/N's body, making her eyes roll back behind the blindfold.

The boy continued in that intense game between pain and affection in Y/N's jaw, collarbone, boobs and belly, until he reached her hip, darting his tongue beyond his lips and licking the area, blowing immediately afterwards, observing up close her skin shivering.

He gently grabbed her ankles and made her bend her legs so that her feet were with the soles on the mattress, his hands traveling to her knees and spreading them further apart, so that her pussy was completely exposed to him.

He lowered himself again, his lips lightly sealing her thighs, taking turns between that and running his tongue along a certain length. His blue eyes observed Y/N's face once again, noticing her mouth half-open and her head tilted slightly back before planting an open-mouth kiss on the girl's intimacy.

Y/N let out a moan, her hands grabbing the parts of the rope that bound her and pulling lightly, her hips rising involuntarily.

A whimper escaped her mouth as Matt suddenly pulled away, his large hands grabbing her hips and pressing her firmly against the mattress.

“Am I going to have to bind you down here, too, Y/N?” His voice came out as rough as the grip of his fingers against the girl's skin. "Or are you going to stay still like I told you to?"

"I'm sorry. I'm going to stay still." The girl said quickly, her tone was one of desperation and apprehension.

Matt remained silent, his eyes lingering on Y/N as if he was sizing her up, analyzing whether she deserved all the pleasure she was about to receive.

His fingers - which had previously been on her hip - traveled to her waist, squeezing her sides tightly as he lowered himself down again, looking up at the girl from beneath his eyelashes before licking from her hole to her clit, scraping his teeth lightly over the nerve of pleasure.

A moan of pleasure and pain escapes the girl's lips as she struggles to keep her body still. Matt's hot tongue sending shivers all over her body.

The boy continued, taking turns between penetrating his tongue into the hot and wet hole or caressing her clit, sucking the nerve with his lips.

Y/N felt her eyes water from the intense pleasure. That was one of the reasons why she loved and hated wearing blindfolds, her senses were heightened to a point where she could cum just by him touching her body. In other words, oral like the one Matt was giving her, took her to heights too quickly.

When Y/N's face was wet, her pupils dilated, nostrils swollen and face red, Matt finally pulled away, the short nails of his fingers digging into the skin of the girl's waist as he felt her limbs trembling, her mouth open in an perfect O and gasps escaping from there.

Her arms were slightly red in irritation from the position and restriction, and her entire upper body was stained, the marks Matt had made minutes before already creating color. That set of things made her perfect, looking like a goddess.

Matt's pupils dilated like never before, a hungry look taking over his eyes, and with the support of Y/N's waist, he hovered his larger body over his girl's, his lips getting closer to hers but stopping inches away.

The girl felt his hot breath against her face, tilting her chin up as she desperately searched for contact.

Matt pulled away slightly, his eyes watching her with his brows furrowed. He felt ready to destroy her in the best way possible, his darkest desires taking over his mind like a fog, and all he wanted most was to fuck her until she was crying and shaking, unable to say anything other than moan loudly for more.

He brought his right hand to Y/N's neck, his fingers pressing in the perfect spots as he pressed the area against the mattress, keeping her head still again. A choking sound escaped the girl's throat in surprise at the movement.

"I told you to stay still, kitten." He whispered against Y/N's ear, receiving a strangled moan in response.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She asked incessantly, her tone pleading, a request for more hidden in her words.

A sound of disapproval escaped Matt's throat.

"Is your head so polluted by my dick that you can't even process a word?" He said into Y/N's ear, receiving a pathetic whimper in response.

Matt removed his hand from Y/N's neck suddenly, lifting his torso so that he was straight on his knees on the bed, he lifted Y/N's right leg roughly, moving it to the left side of the bed, all the affection in his touches suddenly disappearing.

"Turn around." The boy ordered, his eyes remaining fixed on his girlfriend's face, observing her expressions.

The sentence of disapproval or questioning she wanted to say was swallowed back down hard, she was already too fucked up to do anything wrong again.

Y/N sighed before starting to move pathetically in search of turning her body around, having difficulty due to her hands being tied and the small space she had in the area of her legs, after all, Matt was practically glued to them.

After much effort, her body was turned as requested by the boy, her torso supported on her elbows and her ass completely in the air, giving a show to Matt's hungry eyes.

The boy slid his right hand down her sloping spine into Y/N's hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands before pulling hard, a moan of pleasure escaping the girl's throat as a result. Her head fell back, and a slight pain radiated through her shoulders and neck from the uncomfortable position.

"Masochism has always been a curiosity of mine, and this only increased after I met you and your tastes, very similar to mine, by the way." Matt pulls hard on the amount of hair he was holding, the surprise of the act drawing a gasp from Y/N. “I think if I cause you enough pain, you’ll cum. Just with it."

A mix of emotions crossed Y/N's features at that. She didn't even have the power to name them all. Her mind automatically tried to project what would come next, a shiver running down her curved spine.

"I'm not going to punish you today, that wasn't my intention for tonight. But I'm going to ask you one question: Do you know why I'm so angry?" Matt asked, leaning his body over Y/N's and bringing his face closer to hers, waiting for an answer. A tug was given to the tangled hair when no response came.

A gasp escaped Y/N's lips at the gesture.

"I-I didn't obey." She whispered, swallowing hard.

"I didn't hear you, kitten." Matt's voice sounded closer than before, his lips touching the girl's right ear. His tone was arrogant and as cold as his eyes, despite the hunger behind the blue orbs.

Matt's left hand left the mattress, his weight resting completely on the surface and Y/N's ass, his hard dick brushing against the girl's wobbly thighs.

He wrapped his now free hand around Y/N's neck again, squeezing more firmly than before as an warning, pulling her head so that it was almost completely lifted, her upper body standing just with the support of his hands on it.

"I... I didn't obey when you told me to be quiet and still." Y/N responded loudly, her voice coming out weak. She could almost feel Matt's smile against her ear.

All she wanted most was to be able to touch him or at least see him, the blindfold intensified her pleasure, but left her lost, making her mind race desperately trying to figure out what Matt's next move would be, what he would do and what he expected from her.

"Um." The boy pondered, his palms itching to give due punishment to the girl at his mercy, but that night his dick spoke louder. "And you're sorry?" Questioned Matt one last time.

"Y-yes Matty, I'm really, really sorry."

"My perfect little slut." He whispers to Y/N, his lips traveling from her ear to her bare shoulder, caressing the skin. He brought his left hand from her neck to his girl's half-open, salivating mouth, inserting his middle and ring fingers roughly, a sound of surprise escaping Y/N's throat. "Suck it."

She took no time in circling her warm and extremely wet tongue around Matt's long fingers, licking all the best spots and sucking hard. She knew she was doing a great job when she felt his cock in her thighs pulsing.

"Shh, it's okay." Matt whispered, feeling her desperation in her actions, taking his completely soaked fingers out of her mouth and bringing them to the girl's intimate area. He didn't try to be delicate. He just inserted them in and expected her to adjust to it easily. "Color?"

"G-green." She moans, spreading her legs wider and pushing her hips against Matt's hand.

"You take me so well, hm?" The brunette murmurs, pulling his fingers out almost completely, before penetrating them again. "So needy."

"M-Matty." She almost sobs, momentarily forgetting the rule of keeping quiet. She wiggles her ass against Matt's hand, pushing her hips further and further back. She just needed him to go deeper and faster. "P-please. Please."

"Be patient." Matt orders in a deep voice, his right hand - which was still tangled in her hair - tightens the strands and pushes her head more firmly against the mattress.

With that, Matt begins a series of rapid movements with his fingers inside her, moving his wrist back and forth so that his digits enter quickly, hitting all the best spots between the sticky walls. The wet sound fills the room, making Matt's dick jump, but he just takes a deep breath, ignoring his own urges.

At some point, he adds a third finger, increasing the intensity of his movements; fast and deep.

Y/N's eyes roll back roughly, the sensation of an orgasm rising through her body like a wave, her legs becoming shaky on the mattress and her fingers gripping the rope, taking on a white color from the force she used.

"M-Matty, I need-"

"Hold it." The brunette interrupted, slowing down his movements almost instantly.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His thumb gently stimulates her clit, while his fingers remain still inside Y/N, enjoying the sight of her body moving back and forth pathetically, whimpers escaping her lips.

"M-Matty." She gasps, tears streaming from her eyes from the stimulation. "P-please, I need, p-please-"

"Not yet, kitten." Matt moves his thumb even slower, and Y/N feels her head spin, like she might pass out before she even gets the permission. "Wait."

He bends down so that his face is close to Y/N's spine, his lips brushing the area while his beard scrapes the sensitive skin, envisioning the redness that would result. He could feel Y/N's walls contracting around his fingers, her hips moving almost imperceptibly, desperate for something, anything.

"You can cum." He allowed in a low voice, having to move his wrist just one more time before Y/N's orgasm hit her.

Y/N felt her peak travel from her feet to her head like lightning, her body shaking completely, Matt's fingers keeping her upright. She pulled her hands down instinctively, the pain of the rope on her wrist only increasing her pleasure. Her eyes rolled back so hard she could have sworn they could've popped out of their sockets. Her mouth opened, and the dirtiest moans came out of it.

"Do you want your gift, now?" Matt asked a few minutes later, as the impact of the orgasm subsided over Y/N's body, wiping his fingers on the sheet beneath his body.

It was impossible for her to even breathe right now, let alone utter any words, so she was content to just nod her head, hoping Matt could see it.

"Good. Color?"

"G-green, Matty." She responds weakly, pushing her hips back, yearning to be filled by him.

"So desperate." He murmurs, taking his cock in his right hand and giving it a few thrusts, before pressing his head to Y/N's extremely wet entrance.

"Please." Y/N whimpers as she pants, firmly pushing her hips back again.

The sound of the slap comes before the pain, Matt having used his right hand to deliver the blow to Y/N's ass. She knew that was just a warning to keep quiet and still, swallowing hard as she closed her mouth.

Matt massaged her skin where he had hit, wetting his lips briefly with his tongue, deciding to be silent, he knew that she knew why he did it.

The boy inserted only the head of his cock into the slippery hole, stopping his movement, the wet walls seeming to want to suck him in with how much it contracted.

"Your pussy want me that much, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes." He hears Y/N murmur like a prayer, her thighs trembling against his, and Matt soon assumes that she could cum right then and there, just with her walls contracting repeatedly around his head. He could almost see Y/N's eyes rolling back and her mouth open in pleasure.

"Even though you disobeyed me earlier, I think you deserve this." Matt comments, finally inserting his cock fully, the warm, sticky walls welcoming him readily. "So hot and tight." He moans hoarsely, closing his eyes momentarily as his hands squeeze Y/N's pert ass.

Pulling his hips away, Matt thrusts back in again, keeping the pace slow and deep. Y/N moaned as she felt his entire length inside her, and with the help of her elbows, she forced her body back, practically sitting on Matt's lap.

Only when she was moaning as loudly as before and biting the sheet beneath her because she had nowhere to hold on did Matt increase his pace, so unsteady that she almost lost her balance, her body softening and moving along with his, giving away her own power.

Matt's right arm wrapped around Y/N's elevated waist, holding there tightly as he felt her knees give way, keeping them in that delicious position.

"Matt!" She moans loudly when his head hits a certain spot inside her that makes her see stars beneath the blindfold, pressing her cheek more against the sheet below her.

Matt's hands now fit around her waist with a firm grip to be able to thrust more quickly. There's a thin layer of sweat covering his skin, his muscles flexing with each movement.

The sound of Y/N's almost pornographic moans was probably the best thing Matt had ever heard in his entire life. Her voice comes out in a whimper as she begs him to go deeper, harder, everything.

And he does it because there was nothing in the world that Y/N asked him to do that he wouldn't do. His movements became more rhythmic, pulling out almost completely only to thrust in his full length again, going as deep as he had ever thought possible.

Matt felt his own orgasm beginning to build and surge through his body, but he held it back. He wasn't done with Y/N yet.

"Matty." She moans slowly, feeling Matt's new rhythm, which takes her to another world. "I-I need to... I c-can't hold-" She tried to say, but her mind was too fucked up to even form a coherent sentence.

"You can. I didn't hear a safe word."

And she thinks she really can, but for a short time. The incessant stimulation at her pleasure point, the rope squeezing her arm tightly and the blindfold completely blocking her view made her feel overwhelmed. She needed to cum.

"Please, please, please." She repeats it like a mantra, pushing her hips back hard as she presses her cheek into the sheet, dragging her skin into the cotton. Her eyes rolled back as her body searched for her orgasm.

"Cum." Matt ordered in one simple word, increasing his pace suddenly, penetrating Y/N at high speed, his blue eyes rolling back momentarily as he felt her hot walls crush him.

And then Y/N feels her body shake for the second time in a row, her knees become unstable, and her skin feels ultra sensitive to the touch, shivers running all over her body. A moan louder than the previous ones escapes her lips, her spine curving more, her tits scraping against the sheet, providing her a delicious stimulation.

"Shit, shit, shit." She moans slowly, rolling her hips against Matt's, trying to prolong her orgasm. "Oh God, so good."

With her hip movement, she elicits a husky moan from the brunette, the stimulation of her ass against his pelvis and her walls around his cock brings him to his own orgasm.

He closes his eyes momentarily and squeezes Y/N's ass tightly, a gasp followed by a long moan escaping his lips, before long, hot jets hit Y/N's insides, her walls instinctively clenching at the sensation.

The two remain static for a few seconds, panting and sweating, their legs weak and their hearts racing.

A few seconds later, Matt carefully pulls out of Y/N, caressing the sensitive skin of her hips before getting up from the bed.

He takes a few steps closer to her, and gently his hands work on removing the blindfold and untying the rope around her wrists, massaging the area for a few seconds, his blue eyes observing the red marks beginning to appear.

"It's okay, it's over." He whispered, crouching on the ground next to Y/N's head, seeing her blink her eyes repeatedly as she tried to adapt to the light, after being in the dark for long minutes - or hours. "You were so good for me, baby. So good."

His right hand runs through the girl's hair, caressing it carefully and planting slow, lingering kisses on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Matt asks in a whisper, resting the objects in his hand on the nightstand, his attention completely on his girlfriend, who now lay on her stomach, her eyes closed and sighs escaping her lips.

She just nods, unable to answer him out loud.

"Come on, let's take a shower, my love."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all! 🩷💋

Asked tag: @breeloveschris

188 notes · View notes

feminismisstillahatemovement · 6 months

Text

Quite stunned to discover, after watching this new documentary, that Buffy Sainte-Marie was a white girl all along, and not a Native American from the Cree tribe, as she has claimed her whole 60-year career.

As with the similar revelations last year about seventies activist 'Sacheen Littlefeather', it's crazy to me that left-wing folks pretending to be another race goes back way beyond modern SJWs like Rachel Dolezal, Shaun King and Elizabeth Warren.

The fetishization of the perceived victimhood status of various racial groups is deeply twisted and perverse, but when people are rewarded with successful careers, popularity and personal fortunes from pretending to be a member of those groups, it's particularly distasteful, and amazing it is allowed to happen as often as it appears it does.

#pretendians #buffy sainte marie

269 notes · View notes

copias-girl · 11 months

Note

I'm very touch starved lately and I have a dumb fetish so I wanna know: how do you imagine Copia reacts to his s/o putting their head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat? I HC that he likes it but he also gets nervous and blushy and his heart starts beating fast. Sorry if it sounds too weird, btw I love your writing <3

Omg are you the heartbeat anon from the other ask?? 🥰♥︎

Ugh this is just SO CUTE!!! I love this idea!! And it’s not a dumb fetish, I actually find this super romantic and I know I’m gonna be thinking about this a lot ♥︎

COPIA HEARTBEAT KINK HC UNDER THE CUT LETS GOOO 🫀

♥︎🖤♥︎🖤♥︎🖤♥︎ <- I made it look like a heartbeat 🥰

Poor Copia is SO flustered. You have him shirtless, which already makes his nerves light up with self-conscious anxiousness. Your head is resting on his chest, affectionately nuzzling your cheek against him. It’s paradise, but he’s so nervous. So flustered. Getting so flushed and hot. He knows that you can hear and feel the way his heart begins pounding and skipping beats when you’re this close to him. He just can’t help it, he can’t help the effect you have on him. Oh, but to make matters worse, you begin placing gentle little kisses onto his bare chest, and his heart only pounds harder harder harder, so hard that he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. It’s going so fast, surely if he were wearing some sort of smart watch, it would be giving him an emergency warning by now. His hammering heartbeat is almost taking his breath away with how it slams against his ribcage, and you only smirk up at him coyly as you listen intently, your fingertips dancing along his flesh, causing goosebumps to erupt on his skin and a needy whine to tumble from his lips.

“You’re so pretty, Copia. I adore the sound of your heart.” You softly murmur, and he can hardly hear you over the deafening sound of his heartbeat.

“W-what?” He stammers nervously, in disbelief at your compliment. It feels as though his heart is going to beat right out of his chest at this point, dizzy from your words of praise, stars painting the edges of his vision from the alacrity of his racing pulse.

“I said you’re pretty, Co-Co. You’re just so pretty. Your heartbeat is so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. And you’re mine.” You tell him, feeling the way his heart stutters, palpitating in his chest as he lets out a whine, whispering a string of desperate little thank-yous. Yes yes yes, your words are pure ecstasy. He wants to be all yours so badly. He wants you to keep him and never let him go.

You relish in the feeling of the rapid thumpthumpthumpthump against your cheek, you can literally hear his blood being pumped from atrium to ventricle. He’s so vulnerable like this, and you’re grateful to be the one he allows close enough to do this. Copia’s heartbeat is a clear window into what he feels for you. You can feel his deep love for you with every strong pound, you can feel his shy nervousness with every fluttery palpitation that leaves him breathless. You can read him so well, just by listening to his beautiful heartbeat. It’s so incredibly him, so distinctly Copia, you could recognize it anywhere.

You both love the sheer intimacy of these moments, so you often spend days in bed like this, flustering your poor sweet man and showering him with all the affection he deserves. All while listening to the intoxicating sound of his heart, riling him up with your coquettish teases, seeing how fast you can make it go without giving him a heart attack.

Some people like listening to ocean waves, others enjoy the sounds of birdsong. But you, your favourite sound in the world is Copia’s heartbeat. Because you know it beats only for you. ♥︎

𖤐

A/N: This was my first time writing super in-depth about heartbeats so I hope I did the heartbeat kink community justice!! I really loved writing about this ♥︎

332 notes · View notes

they-them-that · 4 months

Text

The Complex Misogyny Enacted by Queer Men

Call outs: James Somerton, Trixie Mattel, Katya, Le'Ron Readus, The Roundtable, Rupaul, Karl Lagerfeld, Dolce and Gabana

With the James Somerton scandal, although I only watched some of his videos in passing, it has definitely made me make sure to be more vigilant about the content I consume and how they source.

I also want to address James' misogyny, something that tragically isn't unique to him. The "straight girl" scapegoat many queer men target has bothered me for a long time. They try to frame it in a way that is "punching up" at the privileged but their problem is entirely against them being women. Trixie Mattel has a habit of complaining about "straight" girls that has put me off, especially when her complaints are incredibly presumptuous and small minded. We wouldn't know random women's sexuality yet we choose to assume they're straight so we can openly ridicule them. Even if these women are straight, the problems queer men levy towards them doesn't so much call out any discriminatory behavior as it is shaming women for what they think is "shrill", "annoying", or just for sharing a space with them.

I recall an episode of UNHhhh where Trixie and Katya said how straight people are guests in queer spaces and in the same way, they can be "uninvited". Even though they use a gender neutral term here, we know that the bulk of straight people who attend queer events are women. In the same way that queer spaces are a safe space for gay men, it's also a safe space for women who want to avoid sexual advancements and sexual violence. Gay men overlook women's issues and needs when they find their presence inconvenient despite women posing little threat to them.

I've also seen the way queer men target queer women when they feel like they've been benefiting more than them. James Somerton, La'Ron Readus, and Tom from The Roundtable have all argued how the ratio of wlw representation in media compared to mlm is due to favouritism towards wlw relationships. This is a pure assumption, at the point they made this argument, we never heard of a canon mlm relationship being shot down by TV or movies and the accusers provided no examples of such, just that wlw representation has been making a breakthrough at the time thanks to the vehement pushing of its writers and show creators. It has nothing to do with preferences for wlw relationships as these studios have tried to stop it and still push back against it to "appeal to a broad audience". It just so happens that the queer creatives who have made waves for representation wanted to represent queer femmes, most identifying closely with sapphic experiences. To underestimate the amount of discrimination these queer creators got for getting wlw representation out there by assuming they have some type of privilege over queer CIS men is grossly ignorant. Although mlm representation is important, it's upsetting to see queer men look at wlw representation and respond with jealousy, unknowing of how queerness already centralizes them. RuPaul's Drag Race, for example, was only allowed for CIS men before trans women were recognized as legitimate drag performers, many of the "CIS" contestants turning out to be trans women. Drag kings still have not made any appearances on the show and are still overlooked and undervalued in the Drag community.

Even though queer men cry for their turn when it comes to something like queer representation in the media (even though it exists, they just have a problem with women having more than them), they don't bat an eye in the way queer men dominate places like the fashion industry that heavily discriminate against women (Karl Lagerfeld and Dolce and Gabana being infamously misogynistic). They also wince at gay shipping culture and mlm representation when it's created by women, accusing them of fetishism, something I've been guilty of in the past. Although, there's an understandable desire for mlm content that is also written by queer men and discomfort about women being voyeurs in gay fiction, we're also assuming these women aren't queer themselves or that they even identify as women. Love Simon's author, Becky Albertalli was forced to come out as bisexual after years of scrutiny for being a "straight woman profiting off of queer romance".

"I legitimately didn't realize. I'm thirty-seven years old. I've been happily married to a guy for almost ten years. I have two kids and a cat. I've never kissed a girl. I never even realized I wanted to. But if I rewind further, I'm pretty sure I've had crushes on boys and girls for most of my life. I just didn't realize the girl crushes were crushes."

There is an oversight on how many people divulge in queer fiction in order to explore their sexuality and gender long before they even consider that they could be queer themselves (I know that was my experience). But even with straight women, many of them are actually drawn to gay fiction because it subtracts women from the equation. Female characters are subject to sexist tropes and many of their romances are imbalanced and toxic. Gay fiction has been a way for women to enjoy romance without feeling the weight of patriarchy through femme-presenting characters.

All this to say that misogyny is still fervent in the queer community and queer men do not get a pass on how they talk about and treat women. I noticed that the most privileged of the queer community, that being White CIS gay men, are the ones who act the most entitled in the queer spaces they enter, not the "straight" women they constantly antagonize. Queer men still struggle with what all men struggle with and that's acknowledging their privileges. Even if they swear their problem with women is because of their sexuality, it really ends up coming down to their gender.

#james somerton #trixie and katya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #rupaul's drag race #karl lagerfeld #dolce & gabbana #mysogyny #feminism #queer issues #lgbtq

97 notes · View notes

dumbdomb · 1 year

Text

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. You do not have my consent to "Like" this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

DNI: no/maps, loli, icky kink, "icky" blogs, unspecified "hard" kinks, unspecified "gross" kinks, unspecified "taboo" kinks, unspecified "dark" kinks, ddlg (specifically, doesn't apply to all cgl), older men / younger women, incest, forced fem, detrans kink, misgendering, misogyny, matriarchy, patriarchy, race fetish, fat fetish, feeder, gainer kink, dyke breaking, corrective rape, tradwifery, cucking, infidelity, cheating, hot wife, trophy wife or husband, cucking, pregnancy, alphas, sigmas, femcels, beastiality, zoophilia, allocishet "straight people" kinks and any conservative ideals romanticized or fetishized in kink play or in vanilla romantic and sexual relationships.

allowing me to stay over in your guest room which has, unbeknownst to me, been created into a fully inescapable- yet seemingly safe and normal bedroom. it's true purpose has always been to be the dungeon you'd keep me in so you could prove your loyal devotion to me.

the first night you focus on making sure i'm comfortable and at ease. hidden cameras detail my sleeping schedule and you're prepared for the next phase. we spend some time together during the second day, but mostly you're preparing for something special that evening... at night, once i've fallen asleep, you begin.

Read my pinned BEFORE you interact! 18+ only.

dimly lit monitors power on to display obscenely pornographic content, hidden speakers play binaural and hypnotic audio, and soon i am surrounded by a barrage of subliminal ideas designed to coerce me into becoming more deviant. the moment i stir awake, everything is shut off automatically. i've no idea what is going on, but my head feels fuzzy.

during the day, i seem a bit out of it, but otherwise don't notice anything unusual. like a vacation, i finally begin to relax after a few days. on the fifth night, you continue this nightly programming and increase the volume and lighting just so. when i wake, i catch a glimpse of my surroundings that immediately fall silent and i question whether i saw anything.

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. You do not have my consent to Like this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

in the morning i notice some of the clothes i don't wear often have been replaced with similar, yet more revealing styles. i angrily question you about going through my belongings and you act so unaware, surprised, and frightened that someone may have broken into your house that i actually believe you. i help you get new locks and install security cameras to watch over all entrances and windows. i ask you to stay in the room with me that night, and you make a bed on the floor next to mine. nothing more happens, a few uneventful days pass...

READ MY PINNED before you interact! 18+ only.

i suggest you move back to your own room, feeling silly for being scared, you only continue to build my trust in you by comforting me and making me feel safe. everything will change soon enough, bc while i visit a friend during the day, your plans to move into the third phase begin.

all my clothes are replaced with very revealing styles, except for my usual pajamas that i lay out each day. i don't see you when i get back, but figure you're out or taking a nap. i don't know you've changed anything yet, keeping to my new routines in your home. by the time we usually have dinner together, you join me a bit later than usual. and when i retire to bed, it's all so mundane.

READ MY PINNED before you interact! 18+ only.

while i sleep, you turn on the programs. they increase as i squirm in bed, getting louder and more visible. this time, when i wake up, everything stays on as i look around startled and confused. i try to use the remote to turn off the tv, but nothing i do works. i decide to leave the room, scared to stay inside with all the overwhelming perversion around me. when i try to open the door, it's locked. the windows appear to be locked from the outside... i yell out for help, not wanting to believe the situation i'm in, and the obscene volume increases. the more i yell, the louder it gets, until my screams are nearly indistinguishable from the loud moans and cries of pain and pleasure. i go back to bed and cover my head, trying to make it all stop and i somehow manage to fall asleep again.

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only. YOU DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT to "Like" this post without reading my pinned FIRST. MDNI.

in the morning, i wake up like normal. as if it were all just a horribly bad dream. i go take a shower and when i look for something to wear, all my clothes are gone. i'm in a towel, my used pajamas already added to the laundry bin in the other room, and all the clothes i have to wear are not mine. i go to leave the room and the door is locked, just like in my dream. i hear you yell out that breakfast will be ready soon, and i should hurry up so it doesn't get cold. how can you be so normal when something strange is going on here? i find the most "comfortable" outfit i can to make do, and after getting dressed the door is unlocked, like i was never locked in to begin with... i felt so confused and wanted to tell you, but i also felt overcome with shame. was it just my mind playing tricks on me?!? ♡

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over eighteen years of age to interact. 18+ only.

NO: lurkers, likes only, inactive, empty, or blank blogs. DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT. DNI. ♥️

#cnc kidnapping #cnc somno #nsft fantasy #nsft concept #somno fantasy #hypnosis #soft cnc #obsessive love #dumbification #stockholm syndrome #lima syndrome #domb brain

750 notes · View notes

idkfitememate · 1 month

Text

The angst inside me yearns to be released. I must write creepy little guy. (Again, no fucking clue who this is as I write)

Male reader for personal reasons?

Male reader for personal reasons.

(P.S. women can read this, but I see a single weird/fetishizing comment? Your ass is getting fucking blocked. Thank you!~ <3)

He shivered as he felt your sharpened canines sink into his neck.

It wasn’t uncommon, on nights like this, for you to slink under the cover of darkness into his room and wrap your car to big and much to long body around him multiple times over, completely covering him in you.

You were too big for his bed, often he could hear it creak underneath what you could fit onto its poor frame, the rest of your body shoved into his floor, masses of hands and tails and tongues and otherwise slithering across the wood silently.

He couldn’t bare too remember the day you became this.

The day you ceased to live.

All he really wanted to recall was that one day you were alive and well, as human as can be, then the next you were… this.

Fundamentally obsessed with everything that had to do with him, a mixture of his and your bond.

There was a reason he had no fear when he found the King if Curses had made his home inside of him.

Because you were here.

Thinking now with what knowledge he had, it would be a lie to ever call you “human”.

You were old, older than most old curses he would inevitably be forced to fight, each being hundreds if not thousands of years old.

But you…

He shivered, and you curled tighter around him, many voices whispering to him - male, female, old and young, just born and on the verge of death - that he was okay, that you would protect him from… the thing inside him.

The pinkette resigned to your grip, feeling a pair of hands wrap around his waist, the teeth that you had planted in him sinking deeper, rumbling purr-like noises emitting from your throat.

You made sure he didn’t feel it.

The pain.

Your nails scratching into skin, teeth puncturing the surface.

You “loved” him far too much.

Tails lightly thumped against your skin and his walls in a rhythm. A couple mouths, some pressed to his skin and some… away from his form panted, tongues lolling out and hot puffs of breath filling the room.

You had been such a sweet boy.

Itadori had found you one day while on an outing with his parents. You had been on a playground by yourself, wearing the classic monster truck tee-shirt and blue kids cargo shorts. Your velcro also monster truck theme shoes flew through the air as you kicked to gain momentum on the swing-set you currently occupied.

Your hair was wild and untamed as you soared through the air, your squeals and high-pitched laughter filling the air. Your carefree mood quickly inspired the boy as he turned to his parents, intent on making them say yes to him going to play with you. But, before he could even get a word out, the adults nodded at him, releasing their holds on his hands, and allowed him to race off onto the wood chip covered ground of the bright and colorful children’s playground.

“Hello!! I’m Itadori Yuji!! What’s your name?” He shouted. You glanced at him, swinging even higher, before leaping off the swing from its highest point.

He watched, slack jawed in awe as you literally flew through the air, landing perfectly on your feet. You had landed with your back to him, dramatically looking over your shoulder to stare at him. You then placed a hand on your waist and flicked your hair over your shoulder and out of your face, so he could clearly see your vibrant (e/c) eyes.

You pursed your lips into a pout with a small glare before braking out into a wide grin, displaying your inhumanly sharp teeth.

“I’m (y/n)! And you better remember it!” Fully facing him you jabbed a finger in your direction before pushing it into his chest, causing him to stumble from the sheer force behind the tap.

“And I’m your new little brother, got it? From now on I’m stickin’ by your side no matter what!” Your grin grew with every word before you snatched his wrist in your hands - your nails were sharp. They nearly pierced his skin - and dragged him onto the play set, climbing with him behind you, laughing when you reached the top first.

And that was how your weird relationship began.

You were there for him, every day. As his mother grew odder and odder and his father grew a bit more distant with each passing moment, you were a constant. Your childish grin and weird ideas - you once convinced him to launch you as hard as he could. You flew three blocks and crashed throwing some rando’s wall - they helped him get through life, especially when he was dumped in the care of his grandfather.

You stayed with him at that point, your parents never being mentioned once by you or anyone, nor had any missing kids reports that matched your description ever come out.

You really were like a little brother.

At least, you were.

He had no control over the situation, and it took years of comforting from his grandfather - who was getting sicker and sicker by the day - and therapy to finally come to terms with it.

Your death.

It was totally on accident, you had convinced him to go on another adventure, taking him to an abandoned building while singing, walking atop the chainlink fences as he walked beside them.

You had giggled when flashing him that signature grin, saying “I’ll go scope it out, you stay here!” or something to that effect.

And you ran inside.

He should’ve ran in after, should’ve told you he felt uncontrollable with how the building looked, should’ve said something.

But he didn’t.

And he was forced to hear your screams and cries die out beneath the rubble of the freshly fallen building.

He desperately pulled at debris, calling out to you to “Just hold on!” as he pulled large chunks of concrete from the pile and threw them away.

How he held your crushed and crumpled body in his arms, shocked to silence and paralysis.

Tears silently slid down his cheeks, soaking into the concrete. Rain began to fall, drenching the both of you.

He cradled your body, sobbing into the bloody mess that once was you.

What part of him mind that wasn’t sobbing was desperately trying to keep what little he had for lunch down. Bone fragments were everywhere, blood had splattered all across… well everything!

He could see a couple teeth and nails here and there and if he looked hard enough, he would’ve seen one of your eyes trapped between some small wall chunks.

The building had quite literally fallen with no warning, and very rapidly as well. The way it had fallen basically landed so much pressure over your body that you had actually fucking exploded.

And so, Itadori cried.

Ignoring the world around him he sobbed and sobbed, paying no mind to how your should-have-been-dead body twitched slightly in his harsh embrace. How you made noises no dead-man should, how the shadows climbed the shattered walls around him, eyes teeth and hands clawing, reaching out to him.

“Ɏ…Ʉ…J…ł…”

His breath stuttered as he hiccuped, refusing to look up.

“Ᏸ…Ꭵ…Ꮆ…Ᏸ…Ꮢ…Ꭷ…Ꮦ…Ꮒ…Ꮛ…Ꮢ…”

His grip tightened, if at all possible. He shoved his face into your neck, iron filling his nose and blood smearing his cheek.

“҉L҉…҉o҉…҉o҉…҉k҉…҉a҉…҉t҉…҉m҉…҉e҉…҉”҉

He shook his head.

”…Ǝ…M…T…A…⋊…O…O…⅃“

He sobbed louder.

“Ꮭ..Ꭷ…Ꭷ…Ꮶ…ₐ…ₜ…𝓶…𝔼…𝙱…𝙸…𝙶…B…Я…Ө…Ƭ…Ή…Σ…Я…

I̵̹̦̓Ṱ̷̒́͂̀̓̍͌̑A̵͎̦̻̰̯͇̗͙̿̄̑̈́͊̓̽D̴̙͉̺́͊͒̎̄̎̈́̉̚̕ͅO̶̟̻̬̥͑̿̊̈̎̍̚͝͝R̷̡̦̮͕̥̰̈́̅Ĩ̶̪͍͙̲͇ ̶̢̟̤̩̪̥̄Y̵̧͉̝̓̏̒͑̋̊̊͠U̴̟͉͔͙̟̮̤̗̩̓̿J̵̧̛͖̠͔̺̙̬̩̎I̴̢̡̫̰̥̮̺̥̱͌̀!̵̢̓͂̇!̸̤̱͓̿̔!̴̬̯̙̱̆̃̋̚!̶̰̱̮̹̳̥̬̀̄̀̿ͅ!̸̡̤̟́̔͘͝!̵̱̱͑̐̓̚”̵̧͚̩̝͚͍̭͛̓̀́”

He wailed as he felt the millions of hands wrap around him and your “human” corpse. It wailed with him - you wailed with him.

Thousands of sounds, from a howling dog to a screaming bird echoed as you sobbed with the boy, over your own death.

…He should’ve seen how his mother shook when you were around. Like something was deathly wrong. Her skin would pale - more than it already was - and her eyes would widen slightly. She was good at hiding her fear.

Fear of you.

He should’ve also noticed how whenever you were in a room with him or his family and others were there, you’d play the “don’t see me” game. It was simple in practice, pretend you weren’t there.

Itadori struggled, obviously, but it was brushed off by other adults as him having an “imaginary friend”.

Like they couldn’t see you.

How you’d wonder around those people and they simply didn’t notice your existence, your presence concealed from everyone besides his family.

Besides him.

How whoever you went, chaos and despair were sure to follow, with your long animalistic nails dragging lightly on someone’s skin, their name later showing up in the obituary. How you’d mutter something in someone’s ear and they would later be found guilty for the serial murders of their entire family. A glance in their direction and a new extreme suicide method would be discovered, following their death.

You were an enigma, one he wouldn’t bother solving through his rose tinted glasses.

But now, with the howling sounds of… you(??) behind him, he didn’t know.

Maybe it would be better to solve you, maybe it would’ve been better to get to know you on a more than superficial level.

Maybe he should’ve looked between the cracks of your carefully constructed caricature and see what was beneath the surface.

The monster beneath the surface.

‘He was damn good at hiding it.’ He mused, coming back to your warmth wrapped around his own, the… whimpers - he had no clue the man could make those noises… he wouldn’t mind hearing them more often - of Sukuna.

He wondered how long he had, subconsciously, known of the Jujitsu world after being introduced to you.

How often he saw small time curses and brushed them off as tricks of the light.

How often people on the streets assumed he was insane as a child when he spoke to air, having a full conversation.

“̷B̷…̷i̷…̷g̷…̷B̷…̷r̷…̷o̷…̷t̷…̷h̷…̷e̷…̷r̷.̷.̷?̷”̷

You didn’t speak much, but when you did your voice was commanding.

Even if the most prominent voice in the millions of overlays was that same voice that of the child who introduced himself as (y/n) all those years ago.

He turned to you, eyes meeting yours with hundreds of pupils dotting the whites of your scleras. Sharp teeth finally dislodged themselves from his neck, a smaller tongue coming forth and licking the wound.

“Yeah, little guy?” He responded. He tried so hard to not see you as wrong. As his little brother.

It was hard but he was pulling through, especially when you had near the same personality as back then, if not a bit more protective.

“ᒪ…ᓍ…ᐺ…ᘿ…ᖻ…ᓍ…ᑘ…”

Smiles placed themselves across your form, it reminded him of why you snuck in at night.

You didn’t want to get him in trouble.

You didn’t think of yourself and how you could get killed - he didn’t doubt his teachers, but he knew for a fact the couldn’t kill you, no way - and how sad he would be after.

You were always like that, putting his likes before your own, much to his chagrin. It was funny that way, with how you insisted to do everything for him, despite claiming him as your “older brother”.

“I… I love you too, (y/n).” Your purrs rumbled out again, loving whenever he used your name.

A part of him was grateful that you didn’t introduce him to the Jujitsu world in his youth. You hadn’t dragged him in head first, kicking and screaming.

Hell, as far as he was concerned, you never even meant for him to fall down this slippery slope but he did, and he was happy that you stuck around.

He was even more happy that you could calm - terrify would’ve been the right word - the storm that raged inside his head.

That beast.

That damned laughter echoed around his skull, constantly reminding him of failures.

Of his failure to Junpei.

As though you could feel the sudden sadness, you whined, shoving the appendage most like a head in the junction on his neck. He giggled at the feeling of a tongue running across his skin, rubbing a hand on your head(?).

“Hey now, settle down.”

A noise came from you, somewhere between a quiet bark and a yip, as you settled down, continuing to nuzzle into him.

He loved these nights.

Unfortunately, he no longer had them.

With the recent war - is this a war? He hadn’t even gotten a drivers license or gotten his first job how could he be part of a war? - he had no time for sleep.

It was constant moving, never spending more than one night in one place. His life consisted now of three main things:

Eat. Fight. Sleep (if you can).

Over and over, he never slept enough to give you a chance to slip into his grasp and share the moonlit nights chuckling at you and his little jokes.

And with that result, he could hear The King’s voice grow louder in his head. Taunting and laughing at him for every misstep and mistake.

For every death.

He was on the verge of giving up, of finally relinquishing control and sitting the recesses of his mind, ignoring the world till he was killed.

Then he met his older brother. And learned of his other brothers.

Searing pain ran through his mind at the revelation, a few images of you flickering through his brain as a harsh reminder.

And today was no better than the rest.

All. Fucking. Day. He was forced to fight curse after curse after curse with no rest. He could feel the dried blood on his skin and the screaming and aching pain of his joints and muscles, begging him for at least one full night of sleep.

He couldn’t.

Not with HIM mocking him at every waking moment.

He was loosing his grip on reality, his steps less prominent and his punches not hitting as strong as usual.

“Yuji!”

He could barely pay attention to the man who called him. His older brother..? Right, yeah. He’s fighting right now… Why is he fighting?

At that moment a punch landed to his gut, launching him back a few feet, he kneeled to the ground, clutching his stomach.

A groan left his lips as his eyes grew weary, struggling to stay open. A kick hit that same place as the punch, causing him to flip and roll over, crying out in pain.

Tears began to slip from his eyes. He knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer, but sleeping would mean that HE would have a chance to.. a chance to…

The boy curled in on himself, arms around legs and legs pressed to his chest as he lay on his side in the middle of the road. Whimpers and tears escaped him as he laid there in fetal position, the cracked concrete beneath him growing wet with each passing second.

He felt weak.

He felt worthless.

Finally his body began to rapidly shake with how hard the sobs that tore their way through his throat were. He wailed into the air, hands gripping at his clothes. Everything stopped as he cried, the curses onslaught slowing as the half-curse looked back at his broken brother.

But as he screamed and sobbed, the air changed.

Static filled the sky as the world grew eerily quiet around them. The air stilled and something dark began to form behind the boy.

“̴Y̴…̴o̴…̴u̴…̴v̴…̴e̴…̴h̴…̴u̴…̴r̴…̴t̴…̴Y̴…̴u̴…̴j̴…̴i̴…̴e̴…̴n̴…̴o̴…̴u̴…̴g̴…̴h̴…̴”̴

Your voice rung out as clear as a bell, effectively silencing any attempts to speak out.

You were huge - easily towering over most buildings surrounding them, which stood at around 430 ft - looking like a mass of wriggling arms and mouths, tongues whipping wildly in the air. Eyes crowded around area of your body, looking in multiple directions but focusing on the now whimpering curse that had dared punch and kick Yuji. You were worm like, noted the half-curse, something like a centipede or millipede, arms and legs supporting your weight and shuffling your body forward.

But then you leaned down.

At the front of your body was an impossibly large mouth with sharpened teeth. Some of which protruded from parts of your lips and cheeks. Your maw opened and a long tongue like appendage slipped out, slithering in the air like a snake. The end opened and a much smaller form poked out, this smaller human-esk form being barely four ft in height.

A boy with dull (e/c) stared back. Long (h/c) hair flowed down his back, tied with a (f/c) ribbon. Only his waist up was exposed, but what they could see was covered by a (f/c) kimono with a gorgeous sash.

The small figure-head of a boy looked like he had jumped straight out of ancient Japan, completed with a scowl.

He opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when they saw how hollow the boy was. No teeth, no tongue. His mouth was pitch black.

[̲̅“][̲̅H][̲̅…][̲̅o][̲̅…][̲̅w][̲̅…][̲̅d][̲̅…][̲̅a][̲̅…][̲̅r][̲̅…][̲̅e][̲̅…][̲̅y][̲̅…][̲̅o][̲̅…][̲̅u][̲̅…][̲̅”]

Multiple of your mouths licked their chops as you stared down the curses, paying no mind to the half-curse.

A chuckle.

Hands flew off you from every angle, gripping the flesh of the now crying curses, ripping and tearing away at their bodies. Chunks of curse were thrown into open and waiting jaws, the crunch of deformed bones echoed.

It was only a moment more until the black haired man noticed the lack of sobbing.

It seemed the same for you because immediately after his thought, your body snapped up to glare at the top of a building. Your body climbed back up to what he realized wasn’t even your full height to stare down at the building.

To glare down the tattooed pinkette.

Animalistic growls of various kinds left your many throats as you stared down with such vibrant hatred that it made lesser curses nearby actually killed themselves in fear.

“k…i…ຖ…ງ…໐…f…¢…น…r…Ş…ē…Ş…”

Unlike his usual prideful expressions and loud boasting, the man was silent, a grimace on his face instead.

“You…” He growled.

It wouldn’t take a genius to recognize that the two of you had history. Those glares you gave each other were more than just ‘seeing the enemy for the first time glares’. Those were glares with passion.

Pure and unbridled hatred.

The air around the area of you two became so damn oppressive that it felt as though the sky itself was fallen down on all those below you. The half curse fell to his knees and griped his head in pain.

He noted others doing the same. Whether it be a curse or one of the sorcerers who came when they felt the shift on the battlefield or saw your… summoning?

It didn’t seem to matter as one by one, everyone and thing fell to their knees.

The biggest issue was the fact that not even The King’s aura had every cause something like this. Sure he was suffocating but never to this extent.

That only left…

You.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

Back when man first made its claim across land, showing its might against enemies;

The first true fear was born.

Dark and grim in shape, it was built off the deepest and darkest desires and nightmares of sentience.

The one thing feeding its dark heart?

The primal fear of being prey.

Of being hunted.

It was the predator to humanity, the thing destined to wipe it out and what of which every other fear would soon be born of.

It was that which lurched in the shadows, it was that which watched from the deep, it was that which breathed down their necks.

Eyes to stalk your every move.

Ears to hear your every step.

Noses to smell your scent from miles off.

Legs to rush you before you could run.

Hands to grip you so you’d never escape.

And mouths to swallow you whole.

…

It fed on people’s worst fantasies.

Changing its shape to fit in, to sneak under the now watchful fearful gaze of humanity.

Taking on a man or woman’s face. Or girl or boy.

…

It fed on the worst of the worst. Tasting their sinful flesh as they committed atrocities to their own kind.

Kindled fires that turned to wars and fed on those cries.

… Till it found a boy.

A boy who gazed at it with no fear. A burning rage in his eyes.

One that could only be snuffed with bloodshed.

It took him under its wing, training him, teaching him. Hiding him from those whom wanted him dead.

But he grew arrogant.

He had grown, two faces and two arms with an added mouth then adorned his form.

He truly thought he could over take it.

Instead, he died; Or rather, he was sealed.

It felt nothing when this happened. Finding the situation to be telling.

And so, it continued. Feasting on the fears and darkest desires of humanity while watching the amass of beings like it grow.

Then, it took on the form of a child, dressed in the common wear of the century. The world was advancing, shiny metals making up the village’s - no, cities as they were now called, with the human populace unimaginably rich in numbers and cultures.

It met a boy, whom uncannily looked like the one it had taken in years ago, as did the boys father.

It vaguely remembered a concubine the other had, but never the less, it smiled.

T’was a new dawn, a new day, and a new life.

And that “boy”?

Well, he was feeling quite good~

…

“To a new era!~ Raise your glasses and cheer, fellows of the dark!~”

Lmao I’m tired ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujitsu kaisen x reader #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #Gn reader #gn y/n #I’s sleepy #goodnight 💤

34 notes · View notes

celestiababie · 1 year

Note

stay at home husband! mingyu massaging his wifes feet after a long tiring day at work ended up using her feet (or legs, wtv hes too desperate anw) to rub his cock pathetically

Stay At Home Dad/Husband!Mingyu Part 2...

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: SMUT PURE FILTH, some fluff ig

Warnings: If you don't like foot stuff... don't read this. Teasing, humiliation, degrading, cum eating

Word Count: 1.519k

A/N: You guys really know what I'm into....I don't have a foot fetish or anything-but the concept of a desperate guy rubbing himself against my feet is 🥵 does that make any sense?

Anyway, I'm glad people are enjoying stay at home husband!mingyu. Send more of things with him hehe.

Series Masterlist

Y/DN = Your daughter's name...I didn't want to just make up a name everyone hated pfft

"Hey, baby. How was your day? You're home kind of late—" Mingyu froze as he examined how your tired body stumbled through the front door. As if it was instinct, his feet make its way towards you, setting your bag aside and bending down to help you take off your heels. You let out a sigh as you balance yourself by holding his shoulder, allowing your doting husband to service you with no complaints.

Mingyu slowly stood up and frowned at the tired expression on your face, his mind racing for ways to cheer you up. Mingyu took in your facial expressions and body language before a light bulb went off in his head. Your husband knew you better than anyone else and mastered ways to make you feel better after all these years. And he knew just the thing to help his wife relax after a frustrating day at work.

You let out a small yelp as your strong husband picked you up and carried you bridal style over to the couch in the living room. He sets you down gently, grabbing a few throw pillows and putting them behind your back. He plants a soft kiss to your forehead before sliding down to his knees in front of you.

"Tell me about your day, sweetheart," he coos out as his hand trace along your sore calves, kneading at the muscles before sliding down to your feet.

Mingyu was always good with his hands. He did everything with them. He made dinner, he fixed things, helped do your daughter's hair, he touched you in ways no man ever could. Mingyu somehow knew all the right spots to press down on and the right amount of pressure that made you sigh in relief.

You throw your head back as you begin to recall your day, "it was fucking terrible. My boss had the nerve to give a promotion to some other bitch who doesn't do half the work I do and yet I'm the one who still has to do overtime. If I'm so capable, shouldn't I be the one getting the promotion?"

Mingyu listens with full attention, nodding along to your frustrations as he dips his head to kiss up your leg.

"Of course you deserve it, you deserve everything. My wife is such a hard worker," he mumbles out, your skin muffling his words.

You let out another sigh as you allow your body to sink further into the couch, your legs spreading oh so slightly. Mingyu's eyes glance up for a split second, his gaze catching your underwear up your skirt.

After all these years, you'd think that little things like this didn't effect Mingyu, but they did. Even if he's seen you naked more times that he could remember, just a peek of your underwear could cause a stir in his pants.

God, Mingyu—now is not the time to get horny.

He curses to himself as he ignores the growing ache in his pants to focus on giving you a massage. But it only proved to make it harder (literally). With your head thrown back, the soft sighs and moans whenever he pressed down on the right spot, Mingyu's brain couldn't help but wonder.

Your body suddenly shifts to get more comfortable, causing your foot to accidentally graze the growing on in Mingyu's sweatpants. A soft whimper gets caught in Mingyu's throat and you quickly tilt your head down to look at him with a surprised but amused expression.

"Are you seriously turned on right now, Kim Mingyu?" You raise a brow at him as you test out the waters by raised a foot and slowly dragging it down his chest before pressing it down on his clothed cock.

"It's not my fault—" he moans out, his hips subtly bucking up against your foot.

You click your tongue, a smirk painted on your lips as you look at your husband.

"Is Y/DN asleep?"

"Mhm, I put her to bed already," he breathes out, wondering where this was gonna go tonight.

You nod your head as you press your food down harder on the bulge in his pants, your other foot raising to rub up and down his chest and stomach softly, just the tips of your toes touching him.

"What's got you turned on? Are you just that easy to please or have you had a thing for my feet all these years?" You ask with a teasing tone although you were genuinely curious if your husband managed to keep a fetish away from you for all these years.

The silence and blush on his face as he avoids your eyes is enough to tell you about your husband's dirty little secret. Oh, you were gonna have fun with this one.

"Wow, Mingyu. And here I thought you were just being a good little husband all this time, always offering it take my shoes off, always rubbing my feet for me. But it turns out you're just a fucking pervert. I bet you've thought about this so many times, hm?"

Mingyu's breath hitches as he rests his head on your thigh, trying to contain himself as your foot begins to rub against his leaking cock, precum staining his sweatpants.

"Answer me or else I stop and leave you with nothing."

Your words quickly illicit a response out of him, his head raising from your thigh, his eyes wide and puppy-like.

"Only a few times, I swear. I- I'm not a pervert,baby."

Another whimper leaves his lips as you rub your foot faster.

"I don't think I believe you, baby. But, now I know just the thing to take my mind off of work."

With desperation laced in his voice and lust filled in his eyes, he breathes out, "anything for you baby. Anything. Tell me, please."

His eagerness to make you feel better send a chill right to your core, almost distracting you from your main plan.

Almost.

"I wanna watch my pretty boy cum all over my feet. That's all you get tonight for being such a pervert while giving me a massage," you spit out. A voice in your head nearly yells at you for being mean to your husband who deserved the world, but his eager nod silences your inner voice, showing you how much he was enjoying it.

Mingyu focused on taking care of you and your needs always. You always came first and he refused to let you do things for him. It was a nice (and sexy) change of pace to give your husband exactly what he wanted.

Mingyu tugs his sweatpants down his thick thighs, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. You nearly let out a moan as you hungrily gazed at his pretty cock, his tip was so red it looked painful as precum dripped out of him. You positioned your feet together in front of his cock and slowly worked his cock in between the soles of your feet, your panties getting soaked from his reactions.

With a tight grasp on your ankles, Mingyu stopped your movements to fuck himself in between your feet. His entire body shudders from pleasure, heavy breaths and moans leaving his body as more precum oozing out of him, glistening in the dim light of the living room.

"You're so good to me— so, so good. Baby, I'm not gonna last."

His pace quickens, louder moans leaving his mouth, his brows furrowed as he chases after his orgasm.

"Cum for me, baby. Give me all your cum, my pretty little husband."

That's all it takes for Mingyu's his hips to stutter, his jaw dropping as he paints your feet with cum. A hearty groan leaves his lips as he rides out the blissful feeling for as long as possible.

He lets out a dazed laugh as he calms down, looking up at you with a shy smile.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," he whispers out, his fucked out smile warming your heart more than it probably should.

"It's okay, baby. Clean it up for me?" You raise your feet up to his lips, giggling at the way Mingyu kisses and licks his cum off of your feet and legs, moaning at his own taste.

The two of you stayed in the living room for a few more minutes, enjoying each other's company before getting ready for bed since you had work tomorrow (unfortunately).

Now comfortable in pajamas, Mingyu in a new pair of sweatpants, you lay under the covers with your head on his chest. Your hand traces his stomach as you allow yourself to sink into your thoughts.

You knew Mingyu loved you more than anything and you knew he knew you loved him. But maybe you were a selfish wife at times. It wasn't your fault that Mingyu was a giver, constantly refusing your help. But after tonight, after seeing Mingyu fall apart from giving into his wants and needs...maybe it was a good idea to start giving back to your loving husband.

"Mingyu?"

He hums a response, waiting for you to say more.

"Is there anything else you're into that I don't know about? I promise I won't judge. You looked really sexy tonight."

Mingyu tenses up, taking a few moments to go over whether or not he should give an honest answer. He hated lying to you and was practically incapable of doing so...and he could tell you seemed to enjoy tonight so, why not give it a shot?

"Have you ever heard of pegging?"

986 notes · View notes

praisethesuuun · 1 year

Note

Ok, maybe this request has already appeared on another blog. But my request is for Poseidon with an Amaterasu priestess. Her family was of high social and economic hierarchy in Japan, being her only female daughter they offered her to the Ise Jingu (Great Shrine of Amaterasu). She where she suffered many physical and mental abuse, including confinement, demanded by her family from the monks and senior priestesses if her daughter was not perfect to the letter in her demands. During one of her punishments in isolation from her, Amaterasu adopted her as her daughter and was with her, until she fatally died in the temple because of the monks and a demon. In her life in Valhalla, she attended a party after Ragnarok with her mother Amaterasu. And that's where Poseidon saw her and became interested in her. But Amaterasu kept him at a distance, because she knew of Poseidon's problem (cough-fetish-cough) with virgin priestesses. But Poseidon was worth half a melon and he kidnapped the priestess to court. she and/n her rejected Poseidon over and over again because he was a married man (Amphitrite), and that man did not cause her confidence. Trying every day the priestess to escape from Poseidon's residence and return to her mother. While Amaterasu was about to rip off Hades' head for defending her brother, he kidnaps daughters (mmmm…it runs in the family I guess) (Please let him escape, it doesn't come to my mind how, but let him escape from the crazy king of the seas)

if it is very long you can reject it, good night. (*￣3￣)╭❤

Anon, I'm happy to announce that I finally finished it! I did my best, I swear and I hope you like it❤️ Plus, it was very funny to mock Poseidon eheh

Poseidon x priestess!reader: the Song of the Sun

Type: angst, with an happy ending

Warnings: abuse, violence, kidnapping

Some things cannot be forgotten. Humankind has a dark, hidden and scary side; made up of vices and deadly sins. The man hides it behind a second face, a mask that tends to slowly crumble, making the malice overflow like a river in flood, and sadly you found out the hard way.

Sometimes memories come back to the surface, making your scars burn like never before, a bitter pain, like the taste of blood. Your mind was ruthless with you, making you relive those memories despite being in Heaven, maybe humanity is not a race made to be happy, the gods know it and that's why they deny total salvation: when you no longer have a body, the soul takes over and clings to all that remains of earthly life, assimilating beautiful things and ugly ones with them. If you think about it, this is precisely the mechanism that allows ghosts to take the shape they had in their past life, that damned mandatory condition that had "materialized" the marks you had on your body.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, my dear"

A voice roused you from your thoughts, making you raise your head towards the door of the great hall of the temple. Your eyes soften at the spiritual vision before you: your holy mother, the sun that shines in the sky in the morning illuminating the few remaining traces of the night stars. "I'm sorry, Amaterasu-sama"

The fleshy lips of the deity arched into a slight smile, the bearer of deep compassion: Amaterasu had decided to make you her eldest priestess and favorite daughter, she loved you with all her heart, especially after witnessing all the prayers you dedicated to her in the evening, asking her to save you from that horrible place you called "home". She had treated your wounds like the mother you never had, visiting you in the rooms of your old temple, healing every cut with a simple touch; she would listen to you with pleasure as you let off steam and yelled at your monster parents. How could he not protect you under his wing? A little priestess who kept praying to her, despite knowing only the worst of her religion.

"What is bothering you, my little ray of sunshine?"

You always blushed whenever she called you that: since you never received parental affection, you attached yourself to any sign of affection that made you feel special, wanted. "Just old memories, that's all, but your light scared them, like always!"

Your ability to laugh had always fascinated her, it is no coincidence that you were her best worshiper, worthy of being in contact with her. All those little remarks distracted Amaterasu from the real reason she came to you; so he composed himself, approaching your smallest figure, lowering himself until his long black hair touched your face, then she talked: "The Greek pantheon has thrown a party after the legendary event of Ragnarok, we are required to attend"

Your heart skipped a beat. Your concerns were well founded since you were a human, but you were spared thanks to the protection of your goddess. True, she would have shielded you, but even a strong deity like her could do nothing against the onslaught of different Pantheons, so you limited yourself to praying, entrusting your protection to the goddess of sun light. "I understand, mother"

"Good, now go and rest, tomorrow will be hard" she said, before disappearing behind her snow-colored dress, retreating to the other side of the temple and leaving you alone, in the large room full of golden statuettes and scarlet tapestries. You stood up, abandoning your prayer position, and once you had fixed the sun-shaped hair clip in your hair, you decided to follow Amaterasu's advice. Who knows what the gods would have thought about your presence? Suddenly, the room became cold or maybe it was the shiver down your spine that was? It didn't matter, the only important thing now was to think about not making the gods angry the next day, keeping quiet and attracting as little attention as possible, maybe you would have worn a mask too, posing as a minor deity; no, they would surely find out. "Ah! How the hell am I supposed to do it?"

Your only consolation was being able to change the air once in a while: staying all day at the temple could be boring and monotonous; due to the dangers you ran living there, Amaterasu was very protective of you. The party would have been one of the few occasions in which you had been allowed to cross the walls that surround the house. Don't get me wrong, you loved to stay there - especially in the sunflower area - but every once in a while you felt like exploring Valhalla, the Garden of Eden and the temples that grace it.

You sighed, deciding to sleep on it, hoping for peaceful dreams and begging that fortune would listen to you. The bed in your room was soft, with white sheets scented with incense, while the red walls were adorned with sacred objects and golden rays; it had seemed heavy to you at first, more like a ceremonial chamber than a bedroom, yet you slept so blissfully in it! Every time you realized where you were and your current rank you felt so proud of yourself: despite the pain - and also thanks to that - you had fallen into the arms of your goddess; that thought was enough to give you peaceful dreams.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

"My lady! Are you sure about that?" you said, while Amaterasu continued to put one dress after another on you, having fun dressing you up as if you were her doll. Every cloth he put on you was precious, the hems were adorned with precious and colored stones, while the softness of the best cotton in all of Heaven caressed your hips, gracefully descending to the ground. Given your rank as a high priestess, you had to maintain your purity, your soul must not suffer any kind of stain or sin, so Amaterasu had been very careful to cover every part of your body - even if in reality she had done it for not making you uncomfortable with the scars. It was a way to respect you and your body.

"Of course! You'll see, even Aphrodite will be jealous of you" Amaterasu answered, while she was intent on braiding your hair properly, using your usual sun clip and small bundles of pearls, which were alternated with the strands, creating a pleasant play of light. Perfect, just the thing you absolutely didn't need, but you didn't feel like telling your mother the truth...she was having so much fun.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying yourself too: all that attention was nice, plus you wanted to look pretty too once in a while, you died young after all. All those colors were magnificent, not to mention the Chihayas that the goddess was presenting to you. It was like a dream for you, you were about to have that experience you've never had before: your parents refused to let you go free, just like the other temple priests; this meant a lifetime of watching other children enjoy themselves from a distance, without going to festivals with them and without weaving flower crowns.

"You look happy, my daughter"

"Maybe, just maybe, this party won't be so bad..."

A loud laugh escaped Amaterasu's lips, so loud that it echoed throughout the temple. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped in amazement, the sun goddess had always been very loud and full of life, but you didn't expect such a reaction. "Of course it won't! If you were concerned about your human nature, then don't worry, everyone will be too drunk to find out anyway"

You smiled, sincerely. "So, I trust you"

"And then, maybe you'll meet some handsome god ready to pay court to you~"

"Mom!"

Your cheeks tinted with pure embarrassment, becoming the same color as the flake around your hips. You had forgotten how spontaneous the goddess could be, she had really caught you in the bag and you no longer knew what to answer. The only thing that occurred to you to do was to hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your emotions, but Amaterasu didn't stop giggling, stroking your back lovingly. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of if you wanted to get to know other deities: your mother only wanted the best for you, she knew that sooner or later your adolescence would fully invest you and she could not have done anything to avoid it. You deserved to be happy and live the life you never had, even though you were a priestess. Before being a goddess, she is your mother and would do whatever it took to see you smile; in addition, some of the looks that the gods had turned to her little girl certainly hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Uncover your face, my darling, and put on some powder, we'll be leaving soon" Amaterasu said, assuming a calmer and more peaceful tone, clearly in contrast with the previous one. You nodded, starting to pass the candid powder on your face, stopping from time to time to observe your figure. Your mother had really dressed you up like a doll, you were adorable in your white kimono with reddish patterns, which reminded you of sunbeams and stars. For the first time in a long time, you felt beautiful, thinking about who you really were and not the scarred skin under your clothes. Suddenly, an annoyed growl from the goddess roused you from your thoughts, moving your eyes (e/c) in her direction. "What's going on, mother?" you asked in a calm voice, trying not to anger her further. When angry, Amaterasu-sama was frightening: she darkened the sun condemning to the deepest darkness, locking up anyone who provoked her in a prison of shadows. Your teeth were chattering just thinking about it.

"Only your uncle...stupid Susanoo"

Oh yeah, those two had been at war since the rice paddies incident - but that's another story.

Apparently, he wasted no time arguing with Amaterasu, as the latter still didn't understand why he wanted to accompany you. Then, she remembered that he is a god too and that it would be safest for you to travel with both of them. "I'm just saying this for her own good, she's my niece, I love her too" said the storm god, ready to escort you en route to Olympus. You didn't mind his company, you didn't talk too much, but those few times you were able to hold a conversation with him, the god assumed an attitude of respect and affection. The truth was that your mother had told him your story and Susanoo had accepted his role as an uncle without a second thought, he would have protected you, you were family now.

"Let's get moving," concluded the sun goddess with a dark aura around her, her bright eyes covered in darkness. "Don't worry about her, little priestess" sighed the other, beckoning you to follow him out of the temple. You couldn't find the right words to answer, so you didn't say anything. Those two were awful when they got into a cat-and-mouse game, pulling you in the middle every now and then, wondering who was right and who was wrong, even if you've always shown yourself to be neutral; every now and then, you wondered how you found yourself in the middle of two deities - very powerful, by the way - acting as mediator. 'Destiny plays tricks sometimes' you thought as you walked through the beautiful gardens surrounding the temple. That day would have been one of the most important challenges of your life, may luck send you good luck!

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Meanwhile, on the top of Olympus, Hermes was busy welcoming every deities who presented themselves to the Greek mountain. He always got excited whenever all the gods were gathered, whether it was a party or a meeting, something interesting always came out of it - like the destruction of mankind. His blood-colored irises scanned the area for problems, but found none. "Perfection"

But as always, everything was going too well. It was his father Zeus who broke that balance, who called him to a table where he and his brothers were gathered. That family was as chaotic as it was diverse: the father of the gods did nothing but drink, downing glass after glass as if there was no tomorrow; Persephone was beside her husband, while Hades stood in silence, but with a serene smile crowning his angelic face, atypical of a king of the Underworld; and then, there was Poseidon and his wife Amphitrite, the most lopsided couple in all of creation. They had been the focus of gossip for weeks, given Poseidon's disinterest in his love life and the needs of his wife. There were even rumors that she planned to cheat on him, but in reality, the sweet queen of the seas still clung to the hope of saving her marriage.

"Do you need anything, Lord Zeus?" asked the god messenger, approaching him with his usual friendly and apathetic smile. "More wine, my son!"

"If you continue like this, we should start calling you Dionysus" said Hades, eliciting laughter from Aphrodite and Amphitrite, who were seated close together and with a half-empty goblet in their hands.

Suddenly, the rumble of thunder shifted the attention of all the guests to the doors of the great temple, where three figures could be glimpsed from a dark, stormy cloud full of rain. In a few seconds, the mysterious cloud was swept away by a gust of wind so powerful as to mess up those who were nearby, dissolving that blue curtain and revealing three figures: you, Amaterasu-sama and Susanoo-sama. Your gown and the pearls in your hair gleamed in the sunlight, much brighter after the arrival of your mother, who radiated solemnity and elegance. Your entrance amazed; the three most precious Japanese treasures of their pantheon, simply wonderful. Aphrodite, at the sight of Amaterasu's candid dress, had already started to puff and show her chest - more than she already did -, while Zeus had hearts instead of eyes and hoped not to be pecked by Hera. But a spontaneous question had arisen in all those present: who was the mysterious damsel?

"Who is that?" asked Persephone, as she observed your figure curiously, much smaller than those accompanying you. Thus, she wasted no time in approaching, abandoning the table where she was sitting, the smile never left her face, in fact, it widened as soon as she saw you blush once you realized what was about to happen. "Hello! Nice hair, what's your name?"

Your brain sent a warning signal to the rest of your body, but you still decided to keep calm. No errors, not even one.

"My name is Y/N, it's my pleasure" you replied with a small bow, a small gesture, but suitable for increasing the sympathy of a deity towards you. Over time, you learned that by doing so, the gods would think you were easy going or a staunch believer; leaving you alone. It seemed that this little trick hit Persephone's heart, and she wasted no time in dragging you along. In your panic, you couldn't utter a single word of disapproval, while Amaterasu watched the scene in amusement, wishing you good luck with a wink.

"Go and enjoy yourself, dear daughter!"

"Mother, you traitor!"

But the goddess who held your arm was so amazed by you: you looked so naive and pure, not to mention your grace and mysterious figure, it was impossible to resist you. "Look who I brought?", Persephone spoke enthusiastically, making space on the sofa on which she sat previously, positioning you - or rather, crushing you - between you and the queen of the seas. Hades looked up, gave you a slight smile, before returning his attention to Zeus, who was so drunk that he didn't even notice your presence. Amphitrite introduced herself cordially, slightly lifting the voluminous skirt of her green-blue dress. "I've heard of you, you're Lady Amaterasu's daughter! You look so pretty" the latter broke the silence, looking at you with her violet eyes. The three of you continued to talk, even though in reality, for you, it was just a matter of answering their questions. You were so taken by the two queens that you didn't notice the interested look of a certain tyrant of the seas: not surprisingly, in the eyes of Poseidon you appeared perfect, with your delicate ways, never hesitating or stammering even once, maintaining your composure. But the thing that attracted him the most was your purity, your not having been touched yet. Your soul was white, untouched, something more unique than rare in the midst of that vortex of vice in which the other gods had sunk. You were stunning.

Poseidon was careful not to show his interest, casually sipping his white wine, watching the dance floor and the celebrations of the others...

But, in reality, he was memorizing your every word, imprinting every minute detail on his memory, absorbing informations like a sponge does with water. The only entity to notice his interest was your mother herself, who knew well the tendencies - cough pervections cough - of the god of the seas, worrying. "Brother" she called to Susanoo beside her, too busy drinking a flask of sake to pay attention to the table of rulers; so he slapped him on the back of the head to revive him from his hangover. "Poseidon has his eyes on her"

"Fuck"

"Let's go, now"

Susanoo nodded, leaping to his feet and leaving the area dedicated to the Shinto pantheon, hurrying to rearrange his armour, but refusing to leave the booze. Now Olympus had clouded over, darkening more and more with every step Amaterasu takes towards you; all the gods were fine, anyone - except Zeus, that goes without saying - but not Poseidon, absolutely not him, that terrible fish and ruiner of virgins. With your daughter? Not even in the slightest.

"Darling, let's leave this temple", the sun goddess didn't even leave you time to answer, but there was no need since you literally ran away from your captors: they were making you uncomfortable, with all those questions...

At first, you thought it was simple courtesy, but gods can be just as ruthless as humans, after all they created them; and jealousy was the hardest viper to kill. You weren't stupid, you didn't fall into certain traps, yet you felt slightly proud: you made two queens jealous, you, a simple human. Sweet.

And in no time at all, the cloud returned, again engulfing the three figures and bringing you back to the temple of your only goddess.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

"That stupid fish! Who does he think he is? That fuck-"

"That's enough, mother"

It was just the two of you left in your bedroom. Amaterasu had been gossiping about Poseidon for hours and didn't seem to have any intention of stopping; she had explained to you all the reasons for so much hatred, of the rotten blood of his family. His being a "usurper of virgins" had somewhat frightened you, so that saying that the silent ones were always the worst was true. "It's never enough when the subject is him!" your mother yelled, furious, in fact the kingdom where the sun never set, was now plunged into total night.

Three hours had to pass before your sweet words of reassurance convinced the goddess to leave your room, going to rest in her private part of the temple. You were so tired: the party had gone terribly wrong from your point of view and now your only wish was to sink into a deep sleep.

To think otherwise, on the other side of Valhalla, down in the depths of the ocean, was Poseidon; at the party he had discovered the most precious pearl in all the seas, as bright as a rough diamond and as calm as a spring tide. Comparing you and his wife was like comparing a mussel to a prized oyster.

You had to become his, he wouldn't rest until he brought you to his castle. But it pissed him off: this little obsession of his was like a crack in his perfect god image, it was a slow and corrosive disease, like the waves that erode the coasts. He couldn't even imagine your body, Amaterasu had been good at hiding you, but he wanted to picture it, touch it and feel your soft skin under his fingers. "Honey...why don't you come to bed?" Amphitrite whispered to him: she had slipped into a totally white lace set, white, exactly like your dress. You had totally invaded the tyrant of the seas, cornered him and now you were tormenting him; he didn't even spare his wife a glance before exiting his bedroom, trident in hand and an evil shadow covering his face.

Amphitrite remained there, abandoned and alone, in an icy bed. She sobbed, releasing tears she'd been holding back for a long, long time, dreaming of a happy future, one in which she hadn't chained herself to Poseidon. But it was too late for that, so she just cried.

Meanwhile, her husband had already sailed the seas towards the Shinto sun goddess temple, ready to indulge himself and with the remains of the wine to give him the right adrenaline to challenge the sun. A force invaded him, something profound, born partly from the perverse nature of the gods and partly from that gap in strength between you and him.

The night was still long and full of mysteries, and it was time for him to use the Hades technique.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

When you woke up, your eyes widened and your breath caught as soon as you realized you weren't in the temple. The air was cold, the walls pure white marble, while the soft tatami had been replaced by a set of blue and teal tiles. Terrible, sad, imposing. You tried to get up, but your limbs were pinned to the bed you were sitting on. "No, no, please"

Memories of your mortal life came flooding back: your brain began counting down the seconds, a technique you had developed as a child to shorten the pain between strokes. Without realizing it, you began to sweat, sweat staining the sheets beneath you, while your hair stuck to your forehead and neck. Was it a nightmare? A lucid dream? How did you end up there? Help...someone please...

The first tears began to flow. You looked around looking for hope, but from the only window present you couldn't see exactly where you were, but it seemed stormy and dark. Then, some waves, with some fishes? Sea. Oh no, sea.

"Miss, she's awake"

Your swollen eyes fixed on a figure in the dark corner of the room, a greenish-skinned merman. "My name is Proteus, I will assist you in these days, for any need I will be here at your disposal"

"W-wait! Please, where the hell am I?" you sobbed desperate, looking for any kind of consolation or clue. You were in total panic, you wanted your mother and the warm sunlight, your protector Susanoo was gone. "Uncle..."

"Proteus, come out"

A deep voice, it reminded you of a storm in broad daylight. You had never heard his voice, yet Poseidon was unforgettable. His blond locks, his eyes piercing and reflecting the sea of his kingdom, he was beautiful, yet he remained a tyrant; nature was ruthless with even the most perfect gods, ruthlessly ruining them, in the image and likeness of man.

In less than no time, you found him on top of you, looking you up and down as if he wanted to judge you, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing tightly. You squeaked, forcibly turning your face away in hopes of freeing yourself from his grip, but you felt like a little mouse in the jaws of a python. Hopeless. It was terrible, your world had collapsed, but why did fate hated you so much? You had suffered so much, just to come full circle. Fucking Poseidon, Amaterasu was right, you should have left her by your side instead of convincing her to leave; you felt so stupid and hated the feeling of inferiority, but now the important thing was one: to be able to escape. "Look at me, mortal"

But you didn't want to. "Look at me, I said"

He didn't raise his hands, Poseidon didn't want to hit you, otherwise he would have ruined your perfect face by reddening your skin; he couldn't afford it.

Unfortunately, after years spent in fear, this teaches you things and among them there is a fundamental rule, which is to satisfy the abuser's small requests, so you looked him straight in the eye. In return, the god kissed you, a hungry and possessive kiss, poor in love but rich in violence, so deep as to leave you breathless. "My lord, Lord Hades is waiting in the hall"

Thanks be to the Seven Lucky Gods, Someone had heard your prayers then, and if they had, they had reached someone else as well. Poseidon turned away, annoyance on his face, but said nothing, boxing the door behind him and ordering his butler to lock it. You spat, wiping the taste of that repulsive thing's saliva out of your mouth, trying not to vomit at the thought. Still, a new feeling of determination invaded you, warming your chest and making you grin to yourself: "Amaterasu is coming, prepare for the wrath of the Sun, tyrant of the oceans"

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Meanwhile, a very stressed out Hades was pacing all over his brother's dining room. "I'm a terrible big brother, how could you take me as an example?"

"Well, Persephone married you, so it wasn't bad"

"I can do it, you can't, especially not with the priestess of Amaterasu. You're in trouble, I can't keep lying to her for long"

The ruler of Helleim was right: the sun goddess had already begun to raise a fuss throughout Valhalla, accusing every deity who came under fire, but it was only a matter of time before she ventured into the depths of Poseidon's castle.

As soon as the goddess saw your empty room, she immediately gave the order to her servants to search for you throughout the structure, including the gardens, and then sent Susanoo to patrol Valhalla, while she would go down to Hellheim herself. She had threatened Hades, grabbing him by the collar and silencing his wife with a single look, literally making her tremble with fear. "Where is my daughter, king of the Underworld?"

She had threatened him, her grip burning like fire, while her eyes were filled with anger. He had defended his brother despite everything, even though he knew that Amaterasu-sama would have discovered them anyway. So why not extend your life for a while?

Persephone was furious, she felt teased and humiliated, plus, as if that weren't enough, Hades proved helpless and didn't even defend her. What a shame!

Instead Hades was much worse off than her and wasted no time in rushing to Poseidon.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

She found them. It's over.

Poseidon was the only god left in all of heaven that hadn't been searched, therefore, Hades was asked to piss off - which is equivalent to being dragged out by Amaterasu. Tongues of fire shot their way from behind her, while the sea king was already ready to use his trident, but the goddess was much more powerful than him. "Y/N's prayers are heard from miles away and Hades was stupid enough to come here right after we met. You are one more pathetic than the other"

There, Poseidon lost his mind, his brother was to remain out of the question. He attacked without a second thought, but Amaterasu dodged, striking him painfully in the side. Poseidon coughed up blood, lay on the ground as a searing pain ate his side, so Amaterasu spoke again: "Susanoo is already bringing her home, look at her again and I'll kill you, you filthy piece of shit"

And having said that, she left. "Mother!" you said jumping down from your uncle's arms to run and hug her. "My little ray of sunshine"

You were together again and that was the important thing, from now on he would never leave you or force you to go to any party. You were safe, alive, and that was just fine.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #request #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon #poseidon x reader #poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon

241 notes · View notes

sixty-silver-wishes · 5 months

Text

I had the pdf for edward said's "orientalism" downloaded to my computer, and I thought it would be a good resource to share, so here it is.

for those unfamiliar, "orientalism" by palestinian scholar edward said is an examination of the cultural relationship between "occident" and "orient," and how cultures deemed the "orient," often as a result of colonialism, are othered, often through fetishization or vilification. said examines the history of orientalism and how it manifests according to the various cultures it has been applied to, as well as how it impacts multiple intersecting social spheres, such as gender, race, and class, as well as how the "us vs. them" rhetoric of orientalism fuels multiple kinds of oppression.

I became aware of this text while studying literary criticism for my creative writing degree, and would advise anyone to at least skim it, if not read it in its entirety, especially if you have an interest in writing and literature, media analysis, or the social sciences. orientalism may be a concept that has existed long before said put a name to it, but reading this analysis of what it means, as well as its consequences, has allowed me to spot instances of it in present-day media, culture, and rhetoric, and given me the tools to avoid it in my own creative work.

#pdf #pdf download #orientalism #orientalism edward said #edward said #palestine #literature #literary analysis #literary criticism #literary theory #media analysis

67 notes · View notes

plinkodiskhorse · 1 year

Text

on labels

The back and forth over the use of the word “queer” baffles and frustrates me. I think the arguments, and the term itself, are illustrative of a dialectic. Queer is simultaneously collective and individual, affiliation-group and self-identity, over-arching and specific, degrading and embracing. Until a time comes that all variations and expressions of gender and sexuality (and combinations thereof) are free from social and institutional stigma, queer will never mean just one thing.

Queer, as an over-arching term for anyone who is NOT cisgender, heterosexual, or perisex, acknowledges the overlap and interplay of gender assigned at birth, identified gender, gender expression, sexual attraction. A cisgender, butch dyke (a person assigned female at birth who aligns with that identity and is attracted to other women, while expressing her gender in a “masculine” manner) and a faggy, transgender man (a person assigned female at birth who “rejects” womanhood while dating men and expressing an “effeminate” masculinity) may seem very different from one another but can have MANY shared experiences of “queerness.” Both may be targets of transphobia and misogyny — even when one of them isn’t trans and one of them isn’t a woman — and both may be targets of homophobia. “Queer” (can, should) holds space for all of these aspects of self, even when they seem to contradict one another.

(How can a transgender man experience misogyny? When he is not perceived/treated as a man, but as a “failed woman.” How can a cisgender woman experience transphobia? When she is perceived/treated as a “non-passing” transgender woman encroaching upon “women’s spaces.”)

When this hypothetical cis dyke and transfag both claim the word “queer,” there is (or should be, in this umbrella interpretation of queer) an understanding that “your fight is my fight.” We may not be the exact same flavor of queer, but our liberation is interconnected. My freedom, as a transgender man, cannot be won at the expense of women’s freedom. I don’t mean that just in the sense that I would be morally opposed to that situation; I mean it in the sense that the oppression of women WILL impact my own freedom.

The baroque complexities of queerness become further entangled when considering race, religion, and disability. Can “queer” hold the history of racialized gender in America? That black people have been hypersexualized/virilized and subsequently fetishized and denigrated for this projection. That East Asian women have been seen as seductresses or naturally submissive, while East Asian men are desexualized or objectified as seeming young and effeminate. The stereotypes of the hot blooded Latina and the macho Latino. Can “queer” encompass the deliberate destruction of Native gender identities and the subsequent (current) obfuscating mythologizing by white queers? Can “queer” be a place for people who see their gender and/or sexuality as a manifestation of/connection to the Divine while also being a place for those deeply harmed by religion because of their gender/sexuality? Can “queer” accept people with disabilities as people capable of eroticism even if their bodies don’t allow for some forms of sex acts?

As a dialectic, rather than a static fact, queer can hold these things, and there are times that queer will be too broad for all these things and specificity is needed.

As a dialectic, queer is a slur and an academic term. Queer is an acceptable word in a peer-reviewed journal, and has the potential to be “fighting words” interpersonally. What matters is the context and the individual interpretation. And it’s HIGHLY personal.

I was born and raised in Texas from the 90s to the 2010s. I never heard queer used as an insult, except in media from (or set in) the past. If I had heard someone use queer as an insult, my initial reaction would have been confusion. Are you fucking old? Is this the 70s? But I did hear gay used as an insult all the time. And faggot and dyke, if there weren’t any teachers within hearing range. I didn’t really encounter queer until undergrad, as an academic term, an area of study, and then as how my friends self-identified. Because of this, my associations with queer are largely positive.

But I know people who also grew up in Texas, only a 30-45min drive away from where I grew up, who did experience queer as a slur. For them, they may feel more comfortable reclaiming fag or dyke, rather than queer. And that’s their decision to make. And yet, it would be reductive if they were to treat queer as only ever a slur, not as a word with decades of usage in academic and intracommunity contexts.

I like queer as a word that can veil meaning.

It can be a conversation stopper. You don’t get to know the specifics of my gender history, my sexual partners, the roles I take in sex, the acts I enjoy during sex.

It can be a conversation starter. I see you’re different in a way that is similar to how I’m different; let us now ask each other oblique and leading questions that the cis hets around us won’t understand.

I dislike how queer is increasingly absorbed into the corporate rainbow-washing of assimilationists. A company doesn’t get to sell me Pride merch with one hand and donate to anti-trans politicians with the other hand.

I cannot say that queer retains its edge, nor can I say that it has been defanged. I cannot force others to reclaim the word, nor can I gatekeep the word. In the first “queer studies” class I ever had, my professor explained “autonomy” literally means “self-naming.”

There is no right or wrong answer, there is only ever-increasing nuance.

#lgbtq #on labels

268 notes · View notes

xoxoholix · 8 days

Text

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔

Whatever you’d like me to write about I can do to the best of my ability, even if it’s about a fandom I don’t know too much about. Just give me some context with it ♡

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

-pedophilia, Scat, Piss etc-

-Any weird fetishes-

-Race play, Necrophilia, anything to do with excessive vomiting or bleeding, underage characters dealing with nsfw.

I will cry and probably throw myself off of a cliff if you request any of the following….

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

Anything as long as it isn’t about any of the following above. I can write noncon if you’d like!

𝑴𝒚 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔

1.) Please be patient when requesting (DON’T SPAM Me). It takes me a while to write but I will get to them as soon as I can.

2.) Any requests from underaged individuals. Please put your Age down inside of your bio simply because of the fact I can’t tell how old you are.

3.) Minors are not allowed on this blog. I will however make another page made for the younger audience that only consists of fluff later on.

4.) Don’t be afraid to request something, I won’t be rude about anything you ask for!

5.) lastly be kind as I’ve said before this is my first time making a blog, so I’ll be trying my best to please with my writing.

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓

Like i said in the beginning I’ll write for any fandom you’d like, As long as you give me details about it. These are the Fandoms I will 100% write about.

-Demon Slayer-

-Call of duty modern warfare-

-My hero academia-

-Black Butler-

-Undertale-

-Creepypasta/Scp-

-Jujutsu Kaisen-

And many more!

26 notes · View notes

coochiequeens · 1 year

Text

In news that will shock no one…

William Thomas, known to the world as Lia Thomas, made headline news when he was permitted to swim on University of Pennsylvania's women's team, break records, and win competitions. After some investigation of his social media accounts, it's highly suspected that he suffers from an abnormal sexual desire called autogynephilia.

William Thomas was ranked 462nd on the men's swim team before he decided to identify as a woman and call himself Lia Thomas. Soon enough, he was the fastest swimmer on the women's swim team at University of Pennsylvania and was even allowed to compete at women's meets, where he broke records and stole medals from hard-working female athletes. At the Ivy League championships, Thomas won the 500 free final by over 7 seconds. At University of Akron's Zippy International, he beat his teammate by more than 12 seconds in the 500 race. Later, in the 1650 freestyle, he beat a female opponent by 38 seconds.

The more medals he won, the more attention he gained from the media and the more he was praised by trans activists everywhere. Thomas was even nominated for the 2022 NCAA Woman of the Year Award (he was denied the award in the end). But the more that people dive deep into Thomas' social media use, the more it becomes clear to them that he suffers from an abnormal sexual desire called autogynephilia.

What Is Autogynephilia?

The simplest way to explain autogynephilia is when a man gets sexually aroused when he himself embodies a woman's characteristics, appearance, outfits, etc. YouTuber Red Moon RADio: Redfem Radio interviewed Masha Jagasdottir, an expert in childhood development and social services. Masha helped explain what an autogynephilic male is.

"First of all, it's a paraphilia. So that category of mental illness, mental distress—it's basically like a mapping error of internally experienced desire," she says. "To cut all the nuance away, it's basically a male-bodied individual who's mapped his entire sexual desire onto himself as a female. And the draw in that comes from the fact that it's the only woman that he'll ever be able to control completely, is his own body. So he wants the embodied feeling of suppressing and humiliating a woman."

"It's really important for them to go out in public, in female spaces, because part of the thrill is watching other women have to swallow their disgust. It's a paraphilia that is absolutely in the same category as zoophilia and pedophilia," Masha continues. "These are actually deeply distressing antisocial paraphilias. It's dangerous for the self and dangerous for society."

This fetish has resulted in many men coming forward as trans, presenting themselves as women to the world, and insisting that they be accepted as normal members of society. It's impossible to know just how many men who call themselves trans women are actually struggling with autogynephilia. It's safe to say that many of these men are not actually trans but rather autogynephilic, and they find sick sexual pleasure in pretending to be women. Walt Heyer, a man who detransitioned after living as a woman for several years, suspects that the umbrella term "transgender" has inadvertently included many individuals who wrestle with autogynephilia, which he describes as "a condition where a man will dress up, look at himself in the mirror as a female, and the female he sees in the mirror becomes the object of his sexual affection."

Lia Thomas Is Suspected to Have Autogynephilia

Nicole Wawro, also known as @feministrecovery_ on Instagram, shared a wide range of information from Thomas' private Instagram account @liathimas, revealing that he has some very disturbing interests that all point to his autogynephilia (also referred to as AGP). She posted a 4-minute reel on Instagram sharing that Thomas announced on his private Instagram that he opted in for a surgery to castrate himself. Naturally, he waited until after the swim season at UPenn and after the FINA ruling said he wasn't able to compete on the women's team to get this procedure done. Thomas made the announcement using 2 cherry emojis next to a pair of scissors, clearly joking about (and even celebrating) the fact that he chopped his testicles off. However, while Nicole was working on the veracity of this story, she also found a lot of other information about Thomas that was greatly disturbing.

"Lia is smart. All the photos he posts of himself are squeaky clean," Nicole says. "However, the photos he likes, the photos he is tagged in by friends, and the accounts he associates with tell a very different story about a very different Lia."

His online activity strongly suggests that he gets sexually aroused by dressing up as a woman, which is a very common characteristic of autogynephilia. Nicole points out that he often likes photos about sexual fetishes of cross dressing, people getting together for trans orgies, and women getting beat up by men who identify as trans females. For example, Fallon Fox, the male MMA fighter who called himself a trans woman and broke open a female fighter's skull in the ring, bragged about it on Instagram, "Me on crushing women skulls." Thomas liked the post, along with another Fallon Fox post where he is doubling down on the fact that he beat another women to a pulp.

Thomas also is seen liking posts about AGP, including a cartoon of an "AGP trans" person who is dressed up as a girl in a pink dress, and has an erection as he looks at himself in the mirror. This furthers the suspicion that he gets some kind of sexual arousal from cross-dressing. Thomas has also liked many other photos of men cross-dressing as women, as well as posts about "sexploration."

Nicole even found that Thomas liked posts of his friends practicing paganism and Satanism, as well as pictures of crass pornographic cartoons. Apparently, Thomas has even shared photos of his own sex dungeon that he built with his boyfriend, complete with a wall of BDSM toys and kinks.

"If this was just about his personal life and his preference as a gay man and his fetishes, we would have just left it there," Nicole says. "But it's not. Lia represents what it means to be all-American. He has lobbied to be in the women's locker room on the basis that he feels like a woman, not because he has any sexual arousal. He presents himself as a squeaky clean athlete with no ulterior motive. But parents deserve to know there is a darkness about allowing any man into the locker room that claims that they just feel like they should be there."

Perhaps even more disturbing is the fact that less than 4 years ago, Thomas seemed to be living a normal life as a young man. He proclaimed he was in love with his girlfriend and he dressed and acted like a male.

And now just a few years later, he shows a completely different story on Instagram, even if it's kept fairly private. But it's important to understand that autogynephilia is an abnormal sexual desire that manifests into a darkness that has infiltrated women's spaces, all under the guise of trans acceptance and compassion.

#William Thomas #AGP #university of pennsylvania #men in women’s sports #TIMs and kink

186 notes · View notes