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#the good word if u will
yetdevout · 2 years
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Freelancer spent most of their time growing up feeling not good enough and based their worth on their academic value.
They got into a very prestigious uni after high school but denied the offer due to their feelings of disconnect between themself and the rest of the world due to their powers
This caused the huge rift between them and their parents, who raised them to believe their happiness came wayy after anything that affected the family name and to hide their powers
Like taking a gap year (which they did)
Mid gap year was when they saw caelum the first time and finally applied to DAMN
Which made the rift between them and their family larger
After they went to damn, they left their culture behind and didnt hear much of their mother tongue (telugu) for a while
Eventually when gavin learned that they had left everything behind, he started learning telugu for them so he could converse with them
Gav definitely learns more movie phrases than actual useful sentences but it makes the fl laugh so maybe it's not so bad
Gav and the fl watch all kinds of desi movies in multiple languages and then make inside jokes about them so there rest of the damn boys are like: ???
Although fl originally left behind most of their culture, they later on started introducing gav to the traditions as a way to get back into them
Gavin celebrating south asian holidays is such a thought ngl
He'd look so good in south asian clothes 🤩
They also started to cook more desi cuisine because gavin loves spicy food
My fl favorite food is naan and paneer tikka masala while gavs is good old biriyani
Sorry I sent so many lol, it's so nice to see the south asian agenda on redacted tumblr <333
~ sleepy
these are all so perfect! i actually share some of my own hcs with you, so it's cool to see that we agree on a lot of things. like for example, "the detached from culture" thing — my freelancer cut off all of their family because of how overbearing (they were an only child). gavin learning and giving fl the room to embrace their culture more.
gavin in a black and gold kurta <333 gavin with mehndi <3333
also those food hcs? so accurate i feel like gav would devour my mothers biryani
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stoopidstapler · 10 months
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SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.
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nerdpoe · 5 months
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Lucius Fox is in the drive thru for some coffee, and like. He's just. He's had a time, okay?
He's stuck on some equations in regard to the amount of torsion a joint would go through if it's half in his dimension and half in another, and it's driving him up a wall.
He's been up for like forty-eight hours, he's tired, he's thirsty, he just wants a coffee, and also how to solve this dilemma.
He doesn't expect the barista in the drive-thru he's ranting about the engineering issues to actually provide decent feedback, and give him a few alternatives.
So he rushes to the pick-up window, not even caring to order, to look at this godsend of a barista.
It's a scrawny kid with black hair and blue eyes, looking startled. Boy can't be more than eighteen.
He asks what college the kid is going to, or plans to go to.
To his absolute horror, the kid-Danny, according to the nametag-says he can't afford college. That he'd had a stint in highschool where he just hadn't been able to focus, and his parents had spent every penny they had on their own inventions.
So that was why he was a barista; because if he worked there for four years, they would offer tuition assistance.
Which.
No. No no no no no.
Lucius pulls around to march into the store, Bruce Motherfucking Wayne already blearily on his phone.
He is getting this kid, and any friend of his, into college.
If Bruce won't foot the bill, he will.
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inkskinned · 10 months
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck#good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen#im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3#writeblr#the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this''#and like also#''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist#i was <3 punctured <3 during mine#and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion''#so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3#she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh#ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance#i'd crash on the table#like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it#and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop!#and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just#woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes#she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room#from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing#and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying#and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap#with this terrible memory#i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like#that was too many liters#and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home#i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after#that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty#you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it#while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED#and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.
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p4nishers · 10 months
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crowley, drunk off his ass: and i was yk just some fucked up soul born in cold and rain but he was my fucking sunlight or whatever
hozier, frantically writing on a napkin: HHHMMMM TELL ME MORE
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obsob · 10 months
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happy and proud!!
✷(print shop)✷
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ryllen · 4 months
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x
#reading this meme gives me comfort#twisted wonderland#twst#this is just what i think#who would u swap and where#honestly jack is probably the first and second tier once he gets comfortable with you#like it is so kind and warm it actually makes u forget ur woes#kalim and ace are just the tight huggers that's why they are on the top list#they squish u and that serotonin out#u're just little pouch of serotonin in their hands#trey is between giving u awkward back pat or hugging you#but i like to think even tho he's just pretending his hug is very comforting#deuce is just bewildered confused and flustered that's why he doesn't return the hug immediately#but he sure wouldn't want to let go afterwards#cater might seem like he would give a good hug but i imagine his true self be like o . o and then switch to ^ - ^ immediately after#vil is just a kind person in my eyes#he is mature and calm and nurturing if he wants to#i alter the meme wording by a bit to fit my perception more#if u put the birthday boy icons together it makes a heart omg#ruggie is honestly confusing me#he would probably only hug wholeheartedly if money is on the line#but i think he hugs his family and the kids at the slum very lovingly#idia is probably between the third and fourth tier but maybe he leans more towards hugging back than patting on the back#patting in the back is probably too cool for him#floyd'd examine u first and giving the how dare u touch me look menancingly but then be like ehe bcs it's little shrimpy i'll forgive u~
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ruporas · 7 months
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green haired guy that has haunted my character types for 10+ years
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christakisbang · 7 months
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mysterycitrus · 26 days
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mischaracterising dick grayson’s robin as a feral, violent pseudo murderer because profound hope and perseverance in the wake of immense loss is apparently too complex of a character arc
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sutorus · 7 months
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Hello! Can you do jjk men reaction when y/n said their safe word during sex? Only if you're not busy! Thank you! 😘
JJK MEN’S REACTIONS TO YOU USING YOUR SAFE WORD
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FEATURED: gojo, geto, toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, afab terms, use of safe word, descriptions of anxiety. please mind individual tws for each scene. proceed with caution and don’t read if it’ll make you feel bad! take care bbs
A/N: my first request i hate it but i hope you love it anon!!! 😊 also sorry i couldn’t do nanami or choso if i’m inspired another time i’ll add em to this LMAO
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GOJO SATORU
warnings: reader is blindfolded and bound (wrists), use of safe word, unprotected sex, crying, descriptions of anxiety
you’ve done it a ton but it still makes you nervous. 
one sense is kind of a lot to lose when you only have five of them, as a non sorcerer. but the relinquishing of control, entrusting your safety and pleasure and entire body to someone else… it turns you on beyond belief. 
so here you are, tonight, blindfold tight over your eyes and hands bound behind your back as satoru fucks you, pace languid, fingers running all over your body. 
any other day, it would be just what you needed to relax. any other day you’d be squirming in pleasure, hips bucking wildly against him as your nails claw at your own palms. 
but today, for whatever reason, it’s uncomfortable. maybe you’ve had too much caffeine, maybe it’s the stress of his most recent mission, the first one to ever have you worrying your lip all night long thinking, maybe he’s not coming back this time. 
his wandering hands feel foreign, the pleasured moans coming from his mouth sounding distant and wrong. your arms tingle from the position you’re in, your sweaty skin itches and you can’t reach to scratch at it. 
you furrow your brows. 
“satoru…” you whine softly, still unsure of what to ask for. 
“mmm?,” he grips your waist, his strokes deep and precise. “my pretty baby looks so good like this. so mine.”
you whine, wriggling in search for comfort. satoru must mistake that for pleasure because he fucks you just a little bit harder, puffing out hot breaths into the crook of your neck. 
“kiss me,” you ask, hoping it’ll make it better, but it does nothing to calm you down. with no stimuli but touch, your brain starts to go into overdrive, and you feel tears begin to trickle down your face.
satoru notices, but not in the right way. 
“is it that good?” he teases, like he always does, but today it sends a chill down your spine. “i could do anything i wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t even know. wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
that does it for you, a wrecked sob leaving your lips along with your safe word. 
satoru stills immediately. you can feel him softening inside you and for some reason that only makes you cry harder. 
gently, he reaches behind your head to unhook the blindfold, his worried gaze searching your face for answers. 
he lifts your back and unties your wrists, rubbing them to soothe the friction from the ropes. 
“baby…” his tone is careful and guilty. “sweetheart, is everything okay? did i do something, what did i do?”
you sniff. the first words that come out of your mouth are, “i’m sorry.”
you’ve never had him so doting, so tense, all that confidence vanishing and it makes you chuckle, this big lanky man handling every limb of yours like they’re made out of snowflakes. 
“satoru, i’m okay. i just…” you inhale deeply. “i just got overwhelmed, is all.”
he lays down beside you, visibly unsure about touching you. you grip his hand firmly in yours, offering him a wavering smile. 
“i’m okay, i promise. you’re good,” you lean over to peck his lips.
satoru looks regretful, but he relaxes at the gesture, caressing the side of your face softly. 
“i love you so much. i’m sorry if i, like, went too far or something—“
“you did nothing wrong,” you assure him. “i think i’m just having a bad day. just wanted to see your face to feel better.”
at that, he smirks. he kisses you slowly, adoringly, unspoken apologies every time your lips touch. 
“i am sorry, by the way,” you say. satoru looks back at you with a confused expression on his face. you continue sheepishly, “for having to use the word.”
“huh?” he exclaims, his incredulity so earnest that it rips a hearty laugh from you. “nah, hell no. thank you for saying it, actually.”
“yeah? you’re not upset?”
“of course not. i completely understand,” he traces a line down your body. “not being able to see my handsome face would make anyone cry.”
you slap his hand away playfully and he pulls you into his chest, cuddling you.
you stay like that until you fall asleep, reassured that the most powerful sorcerer in the world is indeed fit to take care of you; heart, body and soul. 
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GETO SUGURU
warnings: overstim, degradation/humiliation and dirty talk, use of safe word, reader’s discomfort is brief but descriptive
you don’t know how long it’s been. 
maybe ten minutes. maybe twenty. maybe ninety. 
you don’t know how many times you came. 
your entire body is covered in sweat, the top of your thighs and the bottom of your ass soaked in your own arousal. 
suguru holds the wand to your clit almost disinterestedly, eyes glazed over and locked on your cunt. 
he fucking loves it, making you cum over and over again, thrash against his body, make a mess on his sheets. and you love it just the same. 
the undivided attention, the devotion, the seconds right after when the stimulation doesn’t stop and it hurts so bad before it gets mind-numbingly good again. 
“hahh,” you breathe out, voice cracking. “i—i’m gonna—“
“oh, you’re gonna?” suguru mocks you. “shocking.”
you moan at his words, his tone. by now, your body barely has any energy left to react. all you can feel is the release of an unbelievable pressure in your core as wetness gushes out of you uncontrollably when you cum. 
your puffy clit is throbbing, thoroughly abused, your spread legs quivering in pleasure. you sigh in anticipatory relief at the incoming break suguru is bound to give you after your orgasm. 
except this time, the break doesn’t come. 
“ahh!” you scream — honest to god yell — as the buzzing continues, suguru pressing the wand down hard on your pussy. 
he chuckles, playing with the toy, lifting it up just slightly before bringing it back down on you, over and over again. 
“can’t—i can’t, suguru, i can’t cum right now—“
“of course you can, baby,” he says in a sickeningly sweet voice, getting off on your desperation. 
usually you’re just as much into it as he is, but this time it’s for real. it’s painful and not in the nice way, you’ve hit your limit but you can hardly talk, can’t do much more than try to wiggle away from your boyfriend’s ministrations. 
“how can you say that when you have such a slutty pussy?” he runs his fingers through your slick folds, and every clench of your cunt makes it hurt even more. “so greedy…”
you’re clawing at his hands, but he’s so much stronger than you, his forearms and thighs holding you down, leaving you entirely to his mercy — of which he has none. 
“please please fuck please no more—“
it’s something he’s heard you say a thousand times, in a thousand different scenarios, and never truly mean it, which is why you even have a safe word in the first place. 
oh right. the safe word. 
you pull it out from the depths of your fucked out, mushed up brain and blurt it, digging your heels into the mattress. 
it all happens so fast, after that.
suguru all but tosses the wand to the side, switching to lightly stroking your pussy. it makes you jolt; even a gush of air right now could probably make you cry in overstimulation. 
“oh fuck, shit,” he removes his hand and you whine. “what do you need baby, what can i do?”
“s-suguru…” you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs spasming erratically. 
“i’m here, i’m here,” suguru starts to move towards you but stops halfway. “do you want me to be here?”
you let out a croaky laugh, opening your arms because you’re too far gone to use words. 
hesitantly, he lays his head on your chest. when he feels how fast your heart is beating, his own sinks to his stomach. 
“i’m so sorry honey. i thought you were into it.”
you swallow, taking a few beats to regain your composure. 
“i was, it was just… a lot, all of a sudden.” 
suguru turns his head to look up at you. 
“i get it,” he wipes away a stray tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed. “i’m sorry. i love you, i'm so sorry—”
“it’s okay,” you offer him a weak smile. “it’s what the word is for, right?”
“right…” he sounds unsure. that makes you frown. 
you two lay there for a while, until your breathing has evened out, until your thighs have stopped shaking. 
you can practically hear the hear the cogs in his brain turning, certain that his brain chastising himself.
“hey, suguru?” your voice rips him right out of his thoughts.
“hmm?”
“can you promise me something?”
he sits up in attention, instinctively reaching for your hand. “of course.”
“promise me you’re never gonna stop fucking me like that," he gulps, audibly, visibly relaxing. "and i promise to always let you know if i need to stop.”
it takes a beat, but suguru finally loosens up, pressing his smile into your lips over and over again and mumbling all sorts of promises of his own against them.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
warnings: knifeplay, cnc (sort of), roleplaying, pretty graphic descriptions of anxiety and panic, oral (m! receiving)
“what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ here this late at night?”
you roll your eyes to yourself before putting on your best innocent look to turn around and face the man. 
he’s smirking down at you, the streetlight lamps casting dark shadows on his features. 
if you were being honest with yourself, you’d never really been interested in roleplaying in your previous relationships. it was always so awkward and you never truly felt any incentive to stick to the script no matter how much the scenario excited you. 
until you met toji, that is. 
he was always so into it, played his parts convincingly well, which should probably worry you considering he would always opt to play the sleazy delivery guy, the pervy doctor, the horny stranger in a bar. 
as for you, acting the part of the ditzy student or the clumsy maid or whatever the fuck toji wanted you to be that particular day… yeah, that was embarrassingly hot too. 
tonight, he’s playing creepy guy in a dark alleyway. he’d texted you in advance, a very romantic meet me in that alley between the tracks and the highway. dress slutty. 
“i was just looking for the station and got lost…” you mumble, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he pouts in a fake display of pity, twirling something inside his jacket pocket. 
“oh, what a coincidence! i was just on my way there. care to accompany me?”
you smile sweetly, linking arms with him. 
soon enough, you find yourself being shoved past toji’s apartment door, his pocketknife prodding at the small of your back. 
you have to contain your giggles to stay in character, letting him toss you onto his bed. you also have to fight your anger when he slashes through your top, a sleazy smile on his face as he breaks character to say he’ll get you a new one. 
he’s so goddamn hard that it should concern you, holding your jaw open while he feeds you his cock. 
“god—shit, that’s right, such a slutty little mouth,” you moan around his length, hands resting primly on top of your thighs. “you were just begging for it, weren’t you, slut?”
you bob your head up and down, putting on a fake grimace while squeezing your legs together at the same time. 
you hear something click in the distance, the sound barely registering in your brain as you get lost in the scent of him. he’s beginning to push into your throat now, laughing like a maniac when you choke on it. 
“c’mon now, open up that throat for me, girl,” you inhale in preparation. but your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel something cold and sharp poke you. “or maybe i’ll just to do it for ya with this.”
toji’s pressing his switchblade to your neck, grazing it delicately up and down. 
he’s not going to hurt you. you know that.
the blade is probably too dull to pierce skin even if he tried, but he would never, you know this, you know he won’t. 
and yet despite that, your heart is jackhammering in your ribcage, uncontrolled and wild as your eyes widen around tears. 
toji takes your inaction as a sign to just start fucking your mouth a little more, but your attention is zeroed in on that pocketknife. 
suddenly colors are sharper, like it’s bright as day inside his dimly lit bedroom. a headache begins to bloom and you start choking in earnest now, not because toji’s going too hard but because you can’t coordinate your breaths. 
he starts tracing your throat with the blade. “feel me right here sweetheart? fuck.”
you’re clearly struggling but it’s hard to distinguish your real reactions to the character you’re supposed to be playing. that only serves to make you panic even further, hands coming up to push on toji’s thighs. 
“hands to yourself, whore,” he grunts, pressing the knife a little too hard, a little too close for comfort, and you hit your breaking point.
you start garbling wildly around his dick, repeating your safe word over and over again until a very confused toji finally makes out what you’re saying. 
he rips himself out of your mouth, instantly dropping to his knees and grabbing your chin in his hand. 
“oh fuck, did i cut ya sweetheart?” he moves your face from side to side, examining you. 
you swallow around the lump in your throat, willing your heart to calm down. 
“uh, n-no. just got a bit too real there, for a moment.”
he sighs, partially relieved, reassessing the situation. you’re gulping in air, blowing it out of your mouth in calculated puffs. 
toji waits until you're visibly calmer before he gets up. 
“wait here,” he orders. 
you sit down on the floor, hands wrapped around your knees and mentally repeating to yourself that you’re okay, it wasn’t real, you’re not in danger. 
toji returns with a glass of water, sitting down in front of you and waiting until you’ve drank most of it. 
“you okay?” he asks. 
you take a beat before you can honestly say you are. you nod. 
“that knife on your throat was a bit too far, huh, babe?”
“yeah,” you garble out, tracing circles on his knees. “could’ve warned me of that particular detail. asshole.”
he laughs but his body language isn't nearly as carefree. 
there’s a long drag of silence before he speaks again. 
“i’m sorry, honey. really.”
and toji, as amazing as he can be, is usually way too prideful to admit guilt. so the fact that he apologizes is what finally gets you to fully relax, knowing he does realize the situation you were in and feels bad about it. 
“honestly we can stop with all the roleplaying bullshit, it’s getting kinda old anyways. you know i don't need you playing a slut to get you acting like one on my co—“
“toji,” you hiss, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “it’s fine. i think i have a better idea, anyway.”
that seems to spark his interest. he rises his eyebrows, prompting you to go on. 
“because there’s a few roleplays we haven’t tried yet. and if you genuinely feel so bad—“ he says your name sternly but just you ignore him, “then i know the perfect thing you can do to make it up to me.”
“babe…” he bemoans like a chastised child, with a hint of resignation at what awaits him. 
when he sees that you’re beaming he just takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 
“when?” is all he asks. 
impossibly, your smile grows even wider. 
“i already ordered the costume! and the cat ears should be here next week,” you kiss his forehead, propping yourself on his shoulders to stand up. 
you hear him groan in the distance as you skip to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. 
he stalks after you almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and honest to god pouting at you in the mirror. 
“are ya really going to do this to me now?”
you grin. 
“don’t you mean meow, kitty?”
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a/n: yayyy my first somewhat wholesome post i am so bad at this but i hope it was readable! bye now!
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mosspapi · 4 months
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Able-bodied people remember the existence of words such as debilitating, incapacitating, draining, all-consuming, overwhelming, destructive, drastic, limiting, disruptive, excruciating, etc. instead of using a fucking slur challenge: difficulty level impossible
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love watching cellbit and hearing nothing but spanish and portuguese and then suddenly you hear him yell "OH FUCK" it's my favourite thing
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calmparticles · 5 months
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inkskinned · 1 year
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you get used to it, but it's tiring, because they need you to understand your own life as a series of goalposts. what college are you going to, what's your major going to be, whatcha gonna do with that, oh where will you settle down, when can i expect grandkids.
for the longest time my goals have been so blurry that they track into each other, their undefined edges slipping quietly back into the soft night. today i want to be a writer; tomorrow i will want to be a doctor, later i will wish i took that law school free ride. how the fuck do people just know what they want to do with their life?
where do you want to be in five years? i want to be alive; which is a huge step for me. ten years ago i would have said i want to be asleep and meant i hope that i'm dead by then.
but i want a yellow kitchen and a stand mixer. i want a garden and a fruit tree (cherry, if i can make that happen) and a big yard for my dogs to play in. i want to come home and read poetry out loud to someone and have them close their eyes to listen. i want a summer watergun fight. i want to make snowmen. i want to be the house to go to for halloween. i want my life to settle around me in a softness, for it to lay down gently. if i am very, very, very lucky, i want to travel; finally go someplace overseas.
of course i don't know what i want to be doing professionally. what i actually want to be doing is curling up beside my dog, settling in to read. i want to be making myself a cup of good coffee.
i can't answer the other questions. whenever people asked me what do you want to be when you grow up, i used to say i hope i'm happy.
i hope i'm still kind, five years from now. i hope i never get jaded and mean. i hope i have stayed in therapy. what do you picture yourself doing? when will you actually be an adult about this? why are you so afraid of being ambitious?
am i not ambitious? the other day i rearranged my furniture which doesn't quite fit into my apartment. i watered my plants. i'm going to try to propagate a cherry seed. my five year goal is to spend more time laughing. to lie down in a patch of sunwarm moss. to relax for a minute. to close my eyes and think oh thank god. this is why i stayed. this is finally it.
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teddybeartoji · 3 months
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it's not often you get to see a sleepy suguru.
it's not like he's not tired – he's fucking exhausted; the dreams just don't seem to like him all that much. but he's usually toughing it out, trying to seem as composed and put-together as possible. the dark skin underneath his eyes betray him, though.
so you don't really know why today is different. is he just more tired? have all of the sleepless hours caught up with him? or is it just you; could it be that your body is the most comfortable place to rest his heavy head? or is it your perfume that's soothing him to sleep?
or is it the fingers in his hair?
he doesn't really let others play with his hair too ofter either. satoru and shoko had been the only exceptions but that was before you came along. satoru uses his hair as a stim, something to play with when he's bored. suguru has taught him manners though – a few slaps against satoru's fingers and chest to remind him to be more careful. and shoko is just more likely to brush a strand from his eyes or help him tie them up in a half-assed bun whenever his own hands are full with whatever.
you like playing with hair, always have and always will. it's relaxing and it's fun and it's calming and you love it. when you first met suguru, his hair was the second thing you noticed about him (his keen purple eyes being the first). an irresistible itch burned in your fingertips everytime you saw him, everytime he wore his hair down. it just looked so pretty and soft.
he takes very good care of his hair, you know that much. specific shampoos and conditioners, masks and all – he's all in. and nobody bats an eye. not that they should but satoru definitely gets made fun of because of his stupidly expensive collection of figurines and shoko gets teased for her silly mug shelf – and yet, neither of them ever comment on the bottles and tubs of fancy products that lay on his bathroom counter.
his hair also smells good. the compliment always hangs on the tip of your tongue but stays hidden in fear of coming off too weird. too creepy. but he doesn smell good. even with closed eyes and ears and you'd find him in a crowd. you wonder whether he knows that.
as you grew closer and closer, the now scorching itch only doubled in need. you never did gather the strenght to outwardly ask him – if you could play with his hair? if you could caress it? comb through it? it was an accident.
a simple gloomy friday afternoon: you're both lazing on your couch, staring at the screen. it's funny – you find yourself muffling your already quiet bursts of laughter, suguru alongside you. he's sitting close by, closer than usual. you don't ask him about it.
he asked to come over; something-something about being sick of his own apartment. you understand that, so you tell him that your home is his home (you'd tell him that even if you didn't understand). you hear the faint smile when he thanks you over the phone.
even when he looks like he hasn't slept in months – he looks good. you can tell he's overexaggerating his smile a bit but don't say anything about it, rewarding him with a grin of your own. his eyes flick to your lips and how they curve and he thinks about how warm it feels to look at you. maybe he's not exaggerating anymore.
your arms open wide, inviting him into you and he obliges, as always. he smells good. as always.
his hands lock behind your back and your behind his neck. your hearts meet and they greet each other with a fastened beat, eager to be in sync – to feel each other again.
he pulls back and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. he's not doing it anymore and you're happy to relieve him even if it's for mere moments.
he's wearing a sweather and his hair is down. he has lip gloss on; you try to think whether he's more of a mint guy or more of a shea guy. it remains a mystery.
and now you're on the couch with two cups of warm tea waiting for you on the small table. he smells good. he's so close. he snickers at the screen and you can't take your eyes off of him. it's the same small crinkle of the eyes and the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.
you know he knows that you're looking at him. you've been told to have a staring problem and he's just an observant guy. it's a terrible match. or a perfect one.
he doesn't say anything though; instead he leans his head back and little to the side against the headrest (he's even closer now) and you find yourself shifting an inch aswell. perhaps magnets are involved? the iron in your blood pulling you together?
no, that can't be. you'd have to be polar opposites for that to work. warm-blooded and cold-blooded? would that work? you're getting too poetic and he's looking at you now.
it's an accident. it slips out on its own. you smell good. caught off guard by your own comment, you're about to apologize when a hand on your thigh almost makes you suffocate on the words stuck in your throat.
he laughs and it feels so good. he thanks you. he means it, you see it in his tired eyes. he likes the way you blush.
turning his focus back to the tv, you try to collect yourself. a deep breath in and a deep one out and a deep one in and a de—
a weight on your shoulder. he smells so good. he's so close. you peek down, curious as to whether this is a dream or not. but suguru's head is in fact laid on your body, sinking a bit more into you by the second. a deep breath in and a deep one out.
seeking for a more comfortable position, you snuggle closer to him. it's hard to focus but you're making it your sole mission to make him feel safe. your arm curls around his body, his shoulder, and rests right by a flock of his hair.
his cheek is now smushed against the top of your chest and the weight of love doesn't seem as bad as everyone keeps telling you. his hand finds a place around your waist; loosely – as if he's the one who's afraid to scare you off. silly.
his breath against you feels right and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. so you do what you always do when you get nervous – completely on their own, your fingers caress his hair. just smoothing over it at first but before you know it, they're combing through a strand and twirling the ends between themselves.
you wanna apologize, again, but the soft little grunt that emits from the man keeps you from doing so.
don't stop.
+ this is for @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat just bc it feels right
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