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thatbitchery · 4 months

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SUCCESS FORMULA 101

Lets talk about what really makes a person succesfull. No I don't mean the recycled stuff & the magical thinking manifesting stuff. Let's talk the real stuff. What really, like really really makes a woman succesful?

1 . The idea- decision gap

Planning is a productive form of procrastination. You overestimate the amount of control you have over time- space reality if you think you can anticipate the future & hold your own. Exhibit A: covid. Yes get your skeleton nailed down and have a second third fourth opinion but you have three days after the idea to begin execution. Do not overplay your power, you don't have that much control and your powers of perception are based on the past, not future. If you must plan get the first draft down then work with that. Here's a secret- you know those ultra succesful people you know? They're making it up as they go. Adaptation>> planning. If you want success reduce your idea to execution gap to max 3 days then go get it. Risk aversion is the enemy of innovation.

2. Embarrassment

My mentor taught me to not only anticipate but be fully amenable to embarrassment. Especially if you're looking at a career in creative and performed arts you can NOT skip this one. You want to be a singer? Writer? Influencer? Blogger? Vlogger?There will be a reddit thread about how much you suck. This is the fabric of success. Resilience is a woman's best friend. Embarrassment is the portal to growth. First day in the office messing everything up asking stupid questions underdressed with that accent- that's the price you pay for sitting on that CEO seat one day. The way to the top is from the bottom.

3. Boredom

Success is found in the small, mundane, repetitive, boring day to day tasks. It's hard to get far especially in corporate spaces because the boredom is crippling & we are innately a progressive species which means dopamine & adrenaline seeking so you leave your boring tasks for the high of chasing a new goal- no. Get very comfortable with boredom or move to creative arts. Success is found in consistency and consistency is found in repetition. Closing that million dollar deal isn't what made you succesful. It was the repetitive boring practises of sitting through meetings with a collective IQ of 18 that taught you patience, negotiation, jargon and attunement. It's not meeting the right guy that gave you a successful relationship it was your 8 year long friendships that you no longer pay attention to that taught you to communicate, empathise, have boundaries , the right way to love & be loved and recognize value. We tend to credit the spikes for the outcome when it's the consistency of the mundane that got us where we are. Success is the really boring stuff. Really really boring stuff. Success is a buildup.

4. Hierarchy

The swapping of "self sabotaging stupidity" with "feminism & empowerment" is easily one of the greatest downfalls of our generation. Social species= hierarchical you're not being a boss babe queen by speaking to your superiors in a condescending manner & inserting your opinions bc "you have a right to whatever". Uh , you don't. You don't have the right to embarrass your boss or call him out, you don't. Be the boss first then you can call the shots don't let rich kids on tiktok trick you into thinking you can get away with disrespect. Know your place. Power isn't taken its transferred. Meritocracy >> democracy if you want the right to throw your mouth around be the CEO then you can call the shots till then act your paycheck & plan your exit or social climb to a point your opinion matters because meritocracy will always trample democracy. Don't be stupid.

5. Baby & the bathwater

Another culprit for my generation's failure is the witch hunt & self righteous campaign that's cancel culture & virtue signalling. Influencers build their reputation on it so Candace Owens gets to call Beyonce out but you shut your mouth. Learn the concept of dichotomy and learn to take what resonates with you &go. The higher you climb the success ladder the lower your morals go & the more terrible people you have to tolerate so you'll sit 4 hours on a table with a sexist ugly pig making wild sexual innuendo because once that deal is signed your dreams come true. If you're walking a path of self proclaimed righteousness where you can't talk to people who do this and that don't bother. & this level of dissociation & delusion that allows you to think of people as good or bad will get you manipulated left right center. You want to be succesful? Not your monkeys, not your circus. Take what's yours and go. Don't lie to yourself & sabotage your own progress bc you're on a little righteousness campaign.

6. Learn to use people

The greatest resource on God's pretty beautiful earth is human beings. And time. Every single thing you want will come from a person, learn to use people & be used by them bc a relationship requires an exchange of value, don't be a greedy leechy taker. The most important part of success is human resource. If you're struggling with communication & negotiation dedicate everything you have to fixing it. The capital city of success is mutually beneficial relationships ie relationships where people consciously consensually use each other in an equilibrium of value exchange.

7. Emotional intelligence

Sucess doesn't like emotions. In fact those two are sworn enemies since the dawn of the planet. When emotions walk through the door success jumps out the window. Now, I want us to understand- when I'm saying this I'm not saying be a robot- you're not. Emotions are important. They're a compass. You look at them, listen to what they're saying and decide what to do with that. I'm not saying make an enemy our of your humanity, emotional intelligence isn't synonymous with emotional negligence. I'm saying you don't make decisions based on them. You don't express them in public unless it serves you to. You don't shut them down- don't be a psycho- but also don't make them something theyre not- an identity. It's a compass. You need it to move in the right direction, but you carry the compass not the other way around.

8. Offensive

This is where women in particular mess it up- never play defensive. Ever. Unless it's a backhanded game & manipulation tactic always play the offense. Defending yourself is weak af. Find a way to be on the offensive. Victims don't make it. They don't. They get the sympathy & provision & that's it. Success is a literal jungle hun especially corporate your little tearjerkers might get your bf to not leave you but in your office they'll get you abused & disrespected & shamed. Again- it is within the nature of a social species to attack its weak & at home you're safe bc your friends & family really do care about you but corporate & success is a competition. They hit low. They hit hard. It's merciless, you're competing for the same thing. Always play the offense. Always be in the offense. It's better to be the bully, if you get bullied you bully them worse &let everyone know yeah no I bullied him now what? Exactly. Be the mean girl. Be the bully. Take the offensive. Offensive is progressive. Defensive is survival.

9. Routines

Ive found that most people don't know the difference between routine & schedules. Wake up @5 to workout is a schedule. Working out before breakfast is a routine. I'll tell you this as someone with ADHD but an unbreakable routine, if you can not keep up with the time you'll mess up. You don't need to allocate time to set a routine. A routine is a sequence of events that's turned habitual. So if my routine is wake up work out drink water get my vitamins in it doesn't matter if I wake up @ 5am or 1 pm that's the sequence of activities that will take place. Routine is about muscle memory. It has to be subconscious. You have to instinctively know this is whst I should do & have it so ingrained that you don't even think about it it just happens. Training your muscle memory is a superpower. >86% of your day is governed by muscle memory. Think about that. If you just subconsciously headed to the gym and made a healthy meal & studied. Like, while spaced out. Just think about it. Like I said success happens in consistency & repetition. Quick take a guess how muscle memory is formed.

10 Reality

Success is delusion averse. Take the world for what it is and people for what they are & reality for that- reality and stop trying to substitute millions of years of evolution & adaptation with cheap politics, values and morals. Don't be dumb. See the world as is not as you wish it was. Forget all the self soothing politics you're buying into and go science. You can not undo in one century what's been in motion for eons though. Sociology & politics are just self soothing distractions. The world is what it is when you die it'll be exactly what it I'd, you're the one that'll have burned herself. Don't be stupid. Women can't be stupid.That XX is synonymous with Xtra Xmart okay? Okay.

TBY

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thereturnofthem · 2 months

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Ok, something that came to my attention is that if you frame Actor as being Mark's self insert character, the entire way the character carries himself is immediately ten times funnier.

Typically a self insert is a reflection of a persons desired traits, but Mark decided to back that train of logic into reverse in the most drastic way possible.

I mean just look at Actor-

He's divorced, he's been to prison, he has zero sense of direction and no idea what's happening a good chunk of the time, he wears crocs with a three peice suit like it's a normal fashion statement, he didn't have pants on the entire time he was executing his revenge plan, hes a sopping wet rag of a human and he is so violently depressed, he's the inventor of what's commonly known as 'Gaslighting'-

Darkiplier is at least one third his ex wife, Mark didn't need to make that a plot point, he just did and the fact that nobody brings that up is wild to me, good for him though.

The cast at large is a collection of people who are all at fault in their own ways, but Mark took one look at the story he was crafting and said 'I'm going to be the worst person in the room' and I respect that so much.

Even the way Mark carries himself differently from his normal speaking tone when playing this guy is immaculate, the voice acting is absolutely wild. I still can't rewatch 'Damien' because as soon as I hear that asshole start yelling it kicks in my fight or flight response.

TL;DR Actor is a great villain but his execution is so violently off the wall it's absurd, props to Mark for making me genuinely afraid of theater kid.

#wkm #markiplier egos #markiplier lore #actor mark #ahwm #iswm #adwm #markiplier

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athanza · 13 days

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Starlett - Part 1

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

Summary: The Ghoul remembers a recruit of Moldaver, by the name of Irene Taylor, who he met before the war.

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 2 | Part 3 | Final part

2296

Cooper's weather-beaten boots thudded on the dirt, the stones crackling beneath his heels.

The town was too quiet for there not to be a surprise waiting for him somewhere amongst the pre-war rubble so when a glimpse of movement caught his attention and he pulled his gun.

A kid, no older than 15 held up his hands in fear.

"Please don't shoot!"

Coopers sunken eyes narrowed. "Do yourself a favour and scram. If you try anything I will shoot you. Understand?"

The kid nodded frantically in agreement and Cooper gestured with his gun for the kid to get out of there.

As the boy ran off, a large, rolled up piece of paper fell out of his backpack and unfurled face-up in the dirt.

Cooper stepped over as he re-holstered his gun, and looked down at it out of curiosity. When he saw a familiar face on it he bent down to pick it up and held it out in front of him.

"Irene Taylor," It read. "Songbird of Hollywood Hills."

On the poster was a large photograph of a glamorous woman behind a microphone, and a look of a fond, yet faded, remembrance appeared on his scarred features.

2077

"This is a little public for a meeting isn't it?" Cooper asked as he and Lee Muldaver made their way to an empty table at a local jazz club called the Bird Cage.

"My contact is meeting us here. Don't worry about being recognised, this place is used to celebrities, they mind their own business."

They took a seat and settled in and Cooper turned his attention to the band, the singer had a lovely voice and it reminded him of the band that played at his wedding. He shook the memory from his mind.

"So where is this contact?" He asked.

Muldaver smiled a little. "You're listening to her."

He looked back at the singer.

Now that he thought about it, he did recognise her. He'd seen her face on posters for jazz clubs all over the city but never gave them much thought.

"Her husband is Frank Taylor, he's an executive for Vault Tec. She feeds us any information she can get. She's one of our best."

She had wonderful stage presence, captivating the audience with a rendition of "Them There Eyes" by Billie Holiday. Her champagne coloured dress sparkled in the stage lights, and she had every person in that room wrapped around her finger, and she knew it.

When she finished the song the room roared with applause and she stepped off the stage, politely thanking patrons as they came up to her on her way over.

Muldaver rose from her seat to meet her as she reached their table.

"Lee." Irene smiled fondly as she hugged her. "Thank you for coming."

"That was wonderful as always."

"Stop it you." Irene joked.

"May I introduce Mr. Cooper Howard?"

Irene looked at him and he held out his hand, having stood up with Muldaver.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Howard." She smiled as she took his hand.

"The pleasure is mine." He replied with a charming grin.

She sat down at their table and waved the waiter down for a round of drinks.

"How is everything going? Is Frank well?" Muldaver asked.

Cooper noticed Irene make a subtle, nervous glance at the bar before answering. "He's fine." She replied. "You said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes, our new recruit."

Muldaver looked at Cooper and Irene seemed surprised, unable to reply for a few seconds.

"I apologise for seeming so shocked, but with all of your promotions with Vault Tec, you're one of the last people I'd expect."

"Don't worry about it." He replied, reassuring her. "I understand. I'm not the first I'd expect either."

"Well, I guess this proves how convincing Lee can be." She smiled again, but there was something in that smile that seemed pained somehow.

Just then, a man came up behind them with a drink in his hand and put the other on Irene's shoulder and she jumped a little.

By her reaction Cooper thought it was another random patron come to say hello and invade her space, but he kissed her on the cheek and she looked up and smiled at him.

"Hello darling." She said.

"Hi Frank, how have you been?" Muldaver smiled.

"Oh, you know, more hours and no pay rise." He joked.

It was obvious he was tipsy and the discomfort on Irene's face as her husband sat down next to her made Cooper's eyes narrow a little.

"Darling, have you met Mr. Howard?"

"No I haven't had the pleasure." Frank replied, reaching over to shake his hand. "Nice to finally meet you Mr. Howard, your advert for vault 4 was terrific, exactly what we were looking for. I was sad to hear about your resignation."

Cooper shifted in his seat and chuckled uncomfortably, trying to retain his professionalism. "Ah, well, I'm not getting any younger." He joked.

Frank laughed, a little louder than was necessary. "Aren't we all! Say, is it true that it was your real dog in A Man and His Dog?".

Cooper took a sip of his drink that had just arrived. "Yes, Roosevelt, he's a beloved member of our little family."

"Well isn't that just the cutest darn thing." He smiled.

Irene was shrinking. Frank's presence was drowning the one that was only just captivating an entire audience. Then he noticed it and his chest pulsed with distain.

"Mr. Taylor, would you mind if I stole your wife for a dance?"

Irene looked slightly worried and stuttered her reply. "U-um, I don't..." She looked at Frank, almost for permission.

He hesitated but wanted to save face in front of everyone. "Of course." He smiled.

She stood up and walked over to take Cooper's extended hand.

He lead her to the dance floor. The band was playing an instrumental of "Good Morning Heartache" and he placed a hand on her waist.

"Not too close." She said. She realised her fear had slipped out and very quickly composed herself. "Don't want Frank to get jealous." She chuckled, disguising her reaction with a joking tone.

He stayed a modest distance from her as they began swaying to the music.

"He's playing it down but Frank is a big fan of yours. He's seen almost all of your movies, even dressed as your role in The Man From Calabasas for Halloween a few years back."

"You know," he said. "There's a funny story from that set. In the scene where I had to lasso that steer, the first take it somehow managed to pull me clean off my horse. I had a terrible black eye for two weeks after that, but the makeup team covered it up so well that no one could tell. In other words, I know a cover job when I see one."

She nervously glanced at her shoulder, briefly enough that hopefully Frank wouldn't notice if he was watching her.

"I know we just met, and it's none of my business, but Lee told me you married him for the mission. If he's hurting you, you need to tell her."

"She knows." Irene replied.

"She knows? And she hasn't pulled you out?"

"I asked her not to."

"Why?"

"Because this cause means a lot to me, and whatever I'm going through is for the greater good. I'm the only one with my foot in the door this high up, at least before you showed up."

He was getting angry now, not at anyone in particular, but at the unnecessary situation.

"Forgive me, but that's about the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever heard. You don't need to be in this any more than I do."

She scoffed dismissively. "You don't understand Mr. Howard, this is my purpose, stopping Vault Tec in any way that I can, even if it's one password or document at a time."

Part 2

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soft-mafia · 7 months

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Cupcake [Buggy x Reader]

warning: oc insert, fem reader, dom Buggy, Buggy detaching his parts(just his hand), porn without plot, literally just porn, I’m being self indulgent, grinding, Buggy calling himself daddy

a/n: So I guess I’m becoming a clown fucker blog :( this is actually really rusty. I haven’t written in a LONG time so please forgive me for how bad this is😭I’m just feeling really self indulgent right now. Also he might be a little out of character to some? I’ve watched the live action but I’m also trying to watch the anime too(which is over 1000 episodes😭) I’m trying my best to get his character down and the idea was to kind of mix both the live action and the anime version of Buggy together in this fic? Because I think both iterations are HOTTT. Although I don’t think it’s executed well. This is also my first Buggy fic so please bare with me, I’m sure I’ll get better as I go on lmao. Don’t worry, I’m not forgetting about Hisoka— I’m just adding one more clown to my collection.

Buggy’s floating hand gripped Y/n’s hand tightly and held it against the bedsheets, it was a mix of both a comforting hold and one of firm dominance. His other hand, attached to his body was holding onto one of her legs, holding it in the air while the other one was on the bed. The sharp movements of his pelvis thrusting back and forth created loud slapping sounds as his skin hit hers.

“You better take it.” Buggy laughed gruffly through loud grunts and groans as he thrusted firmly into her, his gloved hand gripped hers as the bed creaked beneath them. Y/n trembled and whimpered, moaning as she watched Buggy’s girthy cock slide in and out of her pussy. His long blue hair was out of its usual pony tails and draped down his impressively built body.

He bore his teeth, the grip he had on her leg tightened as he sped his pace. “Fuck that’s good.” He grunted under his breath. He leaned forward, attaching his hand back onto his wrist as he now towered over Y/n, his long blue hair acted kind of like curtains framing Y/n’s face as it fell off of his shoulders.

The blue haired clown took Y/n’s leg and let it wrap around his torso before moving his hand to grab her waist, he squeezed it firmly as he plowed into her, firmer and faster. His grunts and her groans got louder. “S-Slow down..!” Y/n moaned; tears of pleasure completely clouded her vision, the overwhelming sensation of arousal was too much to handle; the way Buggy was ruthlessly thrusting into her, manhandling her— paired with his low rhythmic grunts and groans, she was so close.

“Cmon baby I know you can take it.” Buggy just laughed, “Such a sweetie, you’re doing just fine, look at you.” He spoke against gritted teeth while grinning, he let go of Y/n’s hand to put it on the other side of her waist.

He could feel how wet she was on his dick, it was driving him crazy. Buggy had incredible luck— it was crazy how fortunate he was in life, having a girl like Y/n was just the cherry on top of all of his fortune, because every pirate warlord needed a cute girl on their arm right? Why was Buggy so lucky? He had no idea, he wasn’t going to question it either, he was going to take advantage of everything life had to offer for him.

“Ghhh!” Buggy grunted, his brow furrowed tightly as he screwed his eyes shut, his hands slid their way up Y/n’s waist so they could grab at her bare breasts, squeezing them between his fingers. Y/n arched her back at the action with a loud, strained moan, pushing her breasts further into his grip. Buggy was so close, that twitching feeling in his abdomen— it was orgasmic, it made him sweat. He growled softly while exhaling.

“I’m so close.” Y/n whispered, her arms were wrapped around his neck, his mouth was pressed up against her forehead. He was getting a bit of saliva on her, and his stubble brushed against her face which was a bit uncomfortable but neither of them cared about that right now. Buggy could feel Y/n tremble and that alone brought him closer as well. “I’m gonna bust all inside you.” Buggy snickered, inhaling and exhaling before thrusting deep into Y/n; Buggy came inside of her, his warm sperm painting her inner walls. Y/n moaned deeply as she felt his cum fill her up. “Buggy!!” She moaned.

Buggy groaned and leaned back up, holding both of Y/n’s legs up beside his torso now as he looked down at her, sitting on his knees on the bed. He was still inside, his cum leaked out of her and around his dick. “Damn that was good.” Buggy snickered hoarsely, grinning while breathing heavily, coming off of his high.

Buggy rubbed up and down Y/n’s legs. “You didn’t let me cum.. again.” She groaned. “Ok, ok. Yeah I know.” Buggy groaned, pushing his long hair behind his shoulder and letting it fall down his back, “Don’t bitch at me about it you know daddy always take care of you.” He laughed softly before pulling out and leaning back, sitting against the headboard before pulling Y/n onto his lap, dragging her by her ankles.

“Hey!” Y/n squeaked as she sat up. Buggy patted her on the ass, smacking her a bit as his cock laid between her thighs, resting up against her belly. “Grind on me, cupcake.” Buggy said with a grin, he leaned his arms back and rested them on the top of the headboard as Y/n began to rub her pussy on his length, her hips trembled as her wet clit rubbed his cock. Buggy groaned, his thigh muscles clenched slightly at the sensation, he held her hip with one hand, rubbing up and down her waist and thigh, then moving his hand back to squeeze her ass, grinning when it made her whimper. His other hand popped off and floated down to rub at her clit, helping her bring her to her climax.

“Come on baby, come on..” Buggy groaned, watching her pussy rub on his cock just did things to him, his chest rose up and down as he breathed out. Buggy’s cum was still dripping out of Y/n’s pussy as he rubbed her clit with his fingers and cock, her pussy clenched, she felt so close- so close.

Y/n groaned and whimpered, leaning forward, resting against Buggy’s chest as she came, finally, her whole body was twitching. Buggy immediately wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly with a big grin on his face. “That was great.” He laughed.

Y/n’s eyes fluttered, her face was buried in the crook of his neck, his slightly musty scent invaded her nose; it wasn’t unpleasant though, it was kind of attractive and made her snuggle into him more. Buggy’s embrace tightened; he loved holding her body against his, it felt so good, he closed his eyes before inhaling and exhaling.

It was getting late, and Buggy had planned to stop somewhere the next day. Considering Y/n had already fallen asleep, he succumbed to his own slumber as well.

-time skip-

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING?!” Buggy growled as one of his crew members suddenly opened the door— greeted to a half naked Y/n, and Buggy who was in the middle of putting on his boxers. The crew member was rightfully flustered, covering his face and turning his body away “I’m so sorry Captain Buggy!! I should’ve knocked!!”

“I have a lady in here dammit!!!” Buggy growled, signaling towards Y/n who had actually fallen back asleep, sprawled out on the bed, still only wearing her bra and panties.

#one piece #buggy one piece #one piece buggy #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy x oc #one piece x reader #buggy headcanons #buggy smut

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genericpuff · 3 months

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I was kind of curious: What do you think of Persephone's therapy scenes in episodes 160-161?

I personally liked them, but you and many other LO critics always seem to see things that totally flew over my head (I mean that in a positive way).

I think the idea behind them was fine, just the execution that felt really half-baked. Rachel doesn't like scenes to sit too long so the therapy scene, of course, wound up being rushed in the course of 2-3 episodes (meaning she had to have Persephone dump everything all at once) and while Persephone's dialogue is handled relatively well, the direction of the scene itself feels entirely mismanaged (which is both a side effect of Rachel's directionless writing and the fact that she clearly doesn't want to do more than one of these kinds of episodes so she needs to speedrun it).

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion concerning sexual assault ahead!

Like, let's start with Persephone's intent in going to therapy. Wanting to pursue therapy doesn't just happen suddenly, there's usually a "trigger event" to make someone realize "I need help", whether it be hitting rock bottom or even just going "I feel like I don't have the skills or tools necessary to deal with what I'm dealing with, I need a professional opinion".

Despite Eros advising her to go to therapy all the way back in S1 to address her assault-

-she actually finally goes to therapy in S2 not to address the assault, but to address... how she feels insecure in comparison to Hera who she just found out Hades had a long-term affair with??? At least that's definitely the implication.

And then of course the therapy session itself segues immediately into "Persephone is a high achiever and it's because of her mom being overbearing" which Rachel doesn't connect at all to either the SA or her feeling insecure compared to Hera (which, by the way, barely even has anything to do with her, but she didn't - and still doesn't - have the emotional maturity or self-respect to realize that Hades is a serial cheater-)

That's where the first therapy episode cuts off, and then the next episode immediately opens with Persephone writing her entire backstory on a whiteboard, so we can assume time has passed and she's talked about everything from her childhood up until this point.

Then we get Chiron asking Persephone... what could go wrong if she leaves TGOEM??

Even though we never saw any of the actual sequence so it just feels like a question that's coming out of nowhere? Like did Persephone say during that schpeel that she wanted to leave TGOEM? Isn't that something we should have seen to connect these two trains of thought?

Ah, right, because we have to get into Hades. Because this comic fails the Bechdel test so hard it can't even have a character talk about their trauma or childhood without it seguing into "well there's this one specific main character guy I just really wanna sleep with-"

Don't get me wrong, if Rachel is trying to "deconstruct purity culture" here, I can get her angle with this, if Persephone has been "groomed her entire life" to be an eternal maiden then there's clearly some thought processes about sexual attraction there that are being challenged by her attraction to Hades. But it just feels so rushed purely for the sake of getting her through her trauma and childhood problems and everything that Rachel tacked onto her backstory (in an attempt to make her seem more than just a self-insert) so that Rachel can get her back on track to sleeping with Hades, the one and only man she's clearly ever felt sexual attraction to enough to want to leave TGOEM and question her entire childhood.

And then we get this and I just-

Like first of all, again, Persephone being a complete airhead and not realizing that it has less to do with her possibly being an inadequate partner and more to do with Hades being a serial cheater who also used her as an emotional affair partner;

but ALSO the fact that the conclusion is some "eureka" moment of "you're a bad decision maker" ??? I was a fan of the comic still when this scene happened and even I went "huh?"

Like she doesn't bother to try and connect it to everything she just learned and said about her childhood and how she wants to be the "perfect daughter" who will make everyone happy, Chiron just reduces it to "oh you just suck at making decisions". As if "sucking at making decisions" isn't like, a reactionary extension of deeper problems. She's treating it as if Persephone is some "puzzle" to be solved and her being a "bad decision maker" was the answer when it's undoubtedly just one of many side effects of her upbringing. It feels like she's addressing the cough and not the virus.

Also a little off topic but-

Gotta love how we've never seen Persephone actually employ this homework from her therapist because she's constantly stapled to Hades and the only thing she cares about is his happiness. Literally, I don't think Persephone could possibly answer that question because she's never been independent enough to even learn what makes her happy - she's jumped from wanting to make her mother happy to wanting to make Hades happy but we're supposed to condemn the former and celebrate the latter.

Buuut of course we don't get her answering that question because again, Rachel can't spend more than 30 seconds on a single scene because that would demand too much writing and thought from her. So we cut to Hera having a discussion with Asclepius regarding her scars re-opening, yadda yadda.

By the time we cut back to the therapy session at the start of the next episode (that's three episodes that have been spent basically accomplishing nothing because none of the thought threads tie together in a meaningful way beyond what the audience has to assume) Chiron is conveniently wrapping things up and it's then and only then does Rachel try to actually incorporate the SA plotline that was Persephone's ORIGINAL MOTIVATION in going to therapy.

Now, the scene for the most part is fine, I don't really like how the therapy session was written leading up to it, but her describing her freeze response and how she feels guilty she couldn't "fight back" is a very real feeling that I can definitely say was well written.

My one gripe with it though - and sure, this might be nitpicky, but here me out - is this:

I don't particularly like that Chiron the therapist just found out about her patient being a rape victim - someone who's also said she doesn't like people grabbing her / touching her without her consent - and then decides the best course of action is to comfort her... while touching her.

Now I want to make it perfectly clear, it's not against the law or even the code of ethics to make physical contact between a therapist and their patient. Loads of patients have made breakthroughs with their therapists that have called for hugs and while some therapists may not be okay with it, there are definitely therapists who are who fully understand that hugs in those moments are the best thing for a person. But it's still a general boundary that is there and even with patients who aren't victims of SA, consent needs to be asked for / given.

So Chiron just... coming over and touching Persephone on the knee, while undoubtedly seen as a "warm and comforting act" by those who have had similar sessions with their own therapists or even just those who have no clue and see it on the surface level as being "sweet", really irks me, because it just seems so tone deaf to do with a character like Persephone who is supposed to be a victim of having her bodily autonomy taken away from her.

Again, it's a small criticism, and undoubtedly a nitpick in the eyes of some, but a simple "can I give you a hug?" from either Chiron or Persephone would have gone a long way in accomplishing Persephone's need for consent and bodily autonomy a lot more than just having Chiron come up and touch her leg without her consent. Please, for the love of god, let Persephone have some autonomy, asking for consent doesn't ruin the moment.

And that's pretty much it, Persephone talks about how she feels like she's tethered to Apollo, and Chiron assures her that's not the case, session over, Persephone goes outside to Hades aaaand notice how we never actually tackled that "I feel insecure because of my partner having former partners?" thing? Notice how the best we got was her talking about her fears of being an "inadequate partner" which focused entirely on her not being "enough" for Hades and being a "bad decision maker" rather than pointing out 1.) Hades' own faults in being a serial cheater that would undoubtedly contribute to her insecurities and 2.) what Persephone could do for Hades rather than what Hades could do for Persephone? It's always "I don't know if I'm good enough for him" and never "I don't know if he's good enough for me."

Yet another F-- on Lore Olympus' Bechdel test. Every single thing tacked onto Persephone's backstory is meant purely to get her with Hades - TGOEM is just an obstacle preventing her from having sex with Hades, the assault is just a framing device to show how much "better" Hades is for Persephone than Apollo, her overbearing childhood is just to show how much more "free" she is now that she's not living with her mother and is living with Hades instead, etc.

No agency, no autonomy, no character, even when it tries.

youtube

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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cursingtoji · 1 year

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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 — 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥!𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

part 2 of Sweet Sacrifice

summary: Chainsaw man universe where humans can form contracts with devils in exchange of sacrificing something valuable.

cw: chainsaw man spoilers (anime only), self insert into csm canon, reader is in love with Aki, dub-con, heavy oral (f -> m), deep throat. choking, bruises, spit, failed attempt of masturbation, Sukuna has a normal human form (at least for now), reader goes into Sukunas domain, as per the last chapter reader is a virgin 4k words.

note: this was very fun to write, quick info… for reasons of “just cause” himeno is not into aki in this series. also i have plans for the next chapters but feel free to speculate

After the last mission with Aki you felt like everyone at the public safety building looked at you weirdly, like they were trying to understand how a not so skillful hunter finished a strong devil by herself.

Aki thankfully taught you to not share too much about your devils and the contracts, so you knew how to defend yourself if anyone asked you about Sukuna.

“Makima-sama wants to see us” Aki said, joining your walk.

“Great” you mumbled ironically but followed him anyway.

Aki knocked and you heard Makima calling you in.

After a quick greeting she started asking about the report from your previous assignment together. You haven’t read it before Aki submitted it so you allowed him to confirm the information.

“...So you summoned Sukuna with a cursed word and he appeared beside you?” Makima asked you directly.

That was not what happened. Sukuna took your body. Aki would not lie about this, but you know the actual truth is not what he would’ve written as well. Having Sukuna taking control of your body was a huge risk for the public safety, the type of risk that could get you executed like a devil.

“Actually—“ he started.

“I’m not asking you” her eyes did not leave yours.

“No, my contract with Sukuna allows me to use his strength as it was my own, he does not manifest physically as another entity. If Hayakawa wrote that, my apologies, he was hurt and probably confused, I should’ve explained better” you took the fault knowing that Aki did not write what Makima said.

“Very well” she seemed pleased with your answer and you could hear Aki exhaling relieved, “What did Sukuna take?” the question got you in alert mode. That was your superior asking. What should you say? Would she know if you lie?

“Makima-sama, with all due respect, I don’t think she needs to disclose that information” your eyes widened, you never saw him standing up for Makima like that.

“It’s nothing that’s gonna be missed,” you added, not wanting Aki to suffer any consequences.

“Fine, congratulations y/n, thanks to your new contract you have an offer to join the 3rd division.”

“What?” Aki and you said at the same time.

Makima slid an envelope to you.

“They need an answer till the end of the week, you may go now. Hayakawa you stay” you bowed, still a little confused and left the room not without exchanging a look with Aki, “Leave the door open” she ordered.

On your way out you saw a blond kid waiting outside, upon hearing Makima's voice he quickly fixed his posture and entered the room.

You haven’t even taken the offer and Makima was already replacing you as Aki’s partner. Bitch.

You went back to your desk, and found that week’s patrol shift. Today you were by yourself, patrolling a chill area and replying to the radio channel which the police use to call for public safety back up.

You sighed, knowing this day was gonna be long and boring. Leaving the building you decided to walk to your area, using a path Aki and you would always take. But before you got there, something drew your attention to an alley. It was the middle of the day, you doubted a devil could be there, but either way you carefully approached the source of the noise and recognized Aki’s voice.

Hiding behind an irregular wall you listened to the conversation. You couldn’t see them without them seeing you but it was obvious he was beating the shit out of someone, you assumed it was the skinny boy from before.

“Makima-san is not the kind of woman a punk like you should be chasing” followed by the indistinguishable sound of fist hitting a face.

“Sounds to me you like her too” the boy replied. You felt your heart sinking.

Why was Aki defending Makima? So what if that newbie wanted to be her new pet? To hell both of them!

But why does Aki have to get involved? You wanted him to defend your honor and only you—

What honor?

You heard that familiar and yet strange voice inside your head.

You swallowed your shame and left the alley, wanting to focus on anything but Aki.

It’s not like you could have him anyways.

“You greedy asshole” Denji kicked Aki’s balls once again, “I saw you partner, what else do you want, huh?” he kicked again, “You get to hang out with a hot chick like that everyday and you’re giving me shit for wanting the same with Makima? Fuck you” before he could give another kick he saw Aki wasn’t getting up, “Shit”.

Two days later, when the sun was setting you ran into Aki when you were leaving a house after finishing executing a small devil. He was talking to the cops outside.

“Hey, I beat you on this one” you smiled at him.

“I heard you replying the call on the radio” he defended, “Just wanted to come by in case…”

“In case what? In case I couldn’t handle it? Please, that devil was the size of a pigeon” you made a sign to the cops that it was done.

“So, do you miss me already?” you teased him.

“In comparison to those two I miss you every hour of the day” he threw that statement unbothered, it was enough to make some blood rush to your face.

“That’s right, you have a fiend now as well” you giggled imagining how Aki dealt with the fiend, he confirmed with a grumpy face.

“Have you accepted the offer?” he asked.

“Oh I forgot about it” indeed you haven’t even opened the letter yet, “I’ll take till the end of the week.”

“Why?”

“I’m just not thrilled to work with a bunch of freaks.”

“That's basically what division 4 is now” you laughed and he smiled.

“They are living with me, you know” Aki picked up a cigarette and lit it up, you watched waiting for him to continue, he took a long drag and extended the cigarette to you, “Power, the fiend and Denji, the Chainsaw”.

“Chainsaw huh…” you wondered, “Why though?”

“Makima-sama asked me to” you felt that weird tightening in your stomach again.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I guess I am.”

Since you haven’t given an answer to the offer yet, Makima put you with division 4 on a mission the next day to recover a piece of the gun devil in a hotel. There you got to meet the new members and saw your senpai, Himeno.

“They don’t look so bad” you whispered to Aki, he even got the devils to call him senpai… after a bribe but whatever works.

“Give it some time.”

During that week so far you have been feeling weird, ever since that night with Sukuna actually, if you can even call it that. Every night after a stressful work day you recalled that event, silently expecting him to show up again, but nothing. So you managed to drift your focus to something else, by now that tactic only made you more and more horny.

“y/n will give you one as well” your attention was drawn back to the current situation when Himeno put an arm around your shoulders.

“What?” the team was looking at you weirdly, especially the Chainsaw boy, “I’ll give a what?”

“A kiss to whoever defeats the devil.”

“Not a chance.”

Denji started to talk about how he already decided who he’s gonna kiss.

“…when it comes to sex stuff it feels way better when its with two people who get each other.”

You couldn’t hold back a scoff/laugh, it was automatic given the situation you were in, no one seemed to have noticed your reaction but when your eyes met Aki’s looking at you weirdly you decided to put an end to that subject, Himeno seemed to have convinced Denji anyways.

“Let’s go” you called and all of you entered the building. The rookies leading the way meanwhile the three of you stayed a bit behind.

You let your thoughts wander, thinking about what sex would feel like with Sukuna.

Next time I won’t be so good.

That’s what he said last. You have no idea what he meant by that, or what to expect next, but something made you think you were gonna find it out soon enough.

A couple minutes later chaos seemed to have taken over, power killed a ugly fucking devil, then you all got stuck in the 8th floor, Kobeni was crying and trying to drink toilet water, Denji was sleeping like a baby. After looking around you gave up trying to find a way out and simply layed on a bed in an empty room.

“Could have been worse” you murmured to yourself. You seem to have all this time and nothing to do.

The bed was pretty comfortable… your core still burned, would it be too bad if…?

You slowly brought your hand down your uniform till your finger found your clit over the material of your trousers.

You sighed, felt good, you needed some release. You closed your eyes, circling that spot and thinking of that night when Sukuna had control, but instead you imagined Aki to be one touching you and—

“AARGH” you screamed louder than you should’ve, a sudden sharp pain in your lower lips had taken you off guard. When you looked down you found Sukuna’s mouth in your palm “Did you fucking bite me?!” you accused. He clearly bit you through the pants.

“When I told you I was gonna be the only one touching I meant it, not even you can touch yourself got it?”

“That’s ridiculous I—“ your left hand seemed to have transformed into his again, bigger with sharp black nails, he went straight for your neck, choking you.

Down the hall you heard Aki calling your name, he probably heard your scream and was now opening every room to find you.

You panicked, not wanting him to find Sukunas hand around your neck.

“Sukuna” you begged.

“That’s not my name.”

“M-master please…”

“Say you won’t do it again” his grip tightened, cutting your breath, Aki’s voice was closer.

“I— won’t— I p-promise” you chocked out.

Right when he let go of you and you gained the control of your hand back again Aki barged in.

“What’s wrong?” he rushed to your side on the bed, putting his hands on your shoulders to take a look at your face while you coughed.

You managed to come out with a lie about having a nap then waking up from a nightmare and choking with nothing. He didn’t seem to believe it but didn’t ask anymore questions either.

“I need smoke” he got up from the bed, “Come on” and took your hand making you go with him.

You hated to lie to Aki, it was necessary, but whenever you felt his skin touch yours like that you almost felt like giving up on everything, on Sukuna, on being a hunter…

“Himeno-senpai, do you have any cigarettes left?”

“I want one too” you added

“Sorry, that’s the last one,” she replied.

Both you and Aki asked for it, Himeno gave him first then he gave you. You realized how close you were to each other’s faces when Denji screamed “indirect triple kiss!”You giggled while Aki told him to shut it.

More time had passed, you have no idea what time it is but you really wished you had taken a nap. Now, Himeno, Aki and you were lying on the hall facing the huge disgusting blob the devil had become.

Himeno asked Aki if he had a plan, he always had a plan, but this time the only thing you were certain of was not killing Denji since that’s what the devil wanted.

“I’ll use the sword” your heart skipped a beat, you quickly protested it as well as Himeno.

“I’ll use Sukuna first” you argued.

“Who? What’s that?” Denji asked.

“That’s one of the devils I have a contract with—“ you started to explain but Aki cut you off.

“He’s not gonna be useful here. If that thing doesn’t have any weakness there’s nothing Sukuna can do.”

“Oh and what can your sword do?” his words made your blood boil, was he trying to underestimate your contract with Sukuna?

“Oi, no fighting” Himeno interrupted, but before you could continue Aki got up, taking you with him by your arm before the devil moved in your direction, then you were running.

Fuck, you needed to do something.

The whole floor starts to bend in the devils direction, you found a stable place in a room, Kobeni was screaming about throwing Denji to the devil.

“I’ll use the sword” Aki said and you got the cursed word to summon Sukuna on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m not gonna do it” he said from inside your head.

Fucker.

“Himeno” you warned her, Denji was not about to become devil food, but you also didn’t want Aki to lose years of his life if he used the sword.

“Die!” Kobeni screamed and ran towards Denji with a knife.

“Enchain” you called.

You lost consciousness for no more than 5 seconds, but when you came back Kobeni was on the floor, a bloodied knife beside her and—

“Aki” you whispered nothing but the pool of blood coming out of him “Sukuna… what the fuck”.

“You called too late little hunter, that was not our deal, you’re gonna pay for it” he replied in that voice only you could hear.

You kneeled beside Aki while he defended Denji and Power tried to manipulate his blood, when she touched him he flinched and reached for the closest thing that happened to be your hand.

Himeno was freaking out, the Kobeni again, until Denji got up.

“If I manage to kill this fucking devil, I still expect to get that kiss” he screamed at Himeno but looked at you too before explaining his plan. That boy was deranged, but you liked him.

So long have passed, Denji was still slicing the eternity devil, Power really seemed to have stopped Aki’s bleeding, you managed to not fall sleep for too long while laying beside him, you wanted to make sure he was still alive, so you keep waking yourself up.

“Hey” he murmured, “you have awful eye bags.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t stabbed” you murmured back. He adjusted himself getting closer to you, he was pale but not as much as when he got hit by the knife, “I’m glad you’re okay” you placed your head on his shoulder.

“Can he hear us talking?” he whispered.

“Who?”

“Sukuna” you looked up.

“I don’t think so” you replied, Sukuna only seemed to be around when you were by yourself or in a stressful situation.

“I saw him” Aki moved some hairs away from your face, “When you said the word, I saw your features change, your eyes got darker, he didn’t do anything, but he smiled when I got stabbed, you smiled…” your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve done something myself” your heart broke, Aki sounded so fragile.

“It’s okay, I’m fine” he placed his arm on your shoulder, resting his cheek on your forehead, “Can you promise me something?”

“Maybe, what?”

“If you don’t feel safe with Sukuna, terminate the contract”.

Safe…

“I’ll think about it.”

Thankfully Denji was right, he managed to defeat the devil by himself, freeing everyone else from the 8th floor. While Power was holding Aki on her back, you approached Denji.

“You must be exhausted,” you murmured.

“It’s not so ba—“ you gave his cheek a peck when he wasn’t looking at you directly.

“Well, you deserved it so…” before you finished he fell backwards, but Himeno got him when he was about to hit the floor.

“Let’s get them to the hospital” Himeno said and you agreed.

With Aki and Denji spending the night in the hospital for observation, you decided to go back home and check on them the next day.

Home seemed to embrace you when you arrived, finally having your own food and a decent shower.

After a long time washing your body and hair you stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you, but the second your toe touched the ground you heard a voice

“Enchain”.

And everything around you changed like you were transported somewhere else.

“What the…” it seemed like a dark cave, looking down you seemed to be standing on a wet floor, was that blood? It didn’t smell like blood, although the place looked like it was rotting it didn’t smell like anything weird. There were bones around, piles of them, and a huge spine above you.

“Don’t look around without permission” you heard him again, behind you.

“You—“ when you turned around you met his naked chest.

Only then you realized you haven’t seen Sukuna in a human form since your contract, you forgot how tall he was. He was wearing a white robe, tied around his waist, from that point up his torso was exposed, black lines adorning it.

You took a step back, raising your head to look at his face, he had an obnoxious smile and a look of superiority.

“Where the fuck am I?”

“In my domain, basically in my mind” he turned around and sat down on a throne made of bones.

“That explains why this place is so creepy... How do I get out?”

“You can’t until I say so.”

“Suk—“ you rolled your eyes and was about to say his name in a very disrespectful tone until you met his serious face, “What do you want?”

“Do I have to remind you of our deal? You said Enchain, now you gotta pay.”

“You did nothing” you crossed your arms, “I may have said it but you failed to keep your word.”

“Watch your mouth, hunter. Contracts have power, if I hadn’t held my end of the deal I would’ve suffered the consequences, but here we are. If that dumb head of yours wasn’t so busy thinking about getting fucked you would’ve realized that was nothing for me to do in that situation”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but quickly realized you were in no position to do so.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with” with that he pulled the only thing that was covering your body, the white towel, and threw it away.

You attempted to cover yourself, but he pushed your shoulders down until you fell on your knees in front of his throne.

“Sukuna, not here” whatever was under the wet ground was rough on your knees, and the whole setting made you uneasy. All the skulls laying around seemed to be watching you.

“I said I wasn’t going to be good, especially after you misbehaved so badly earlier. Tell me, little hunter, have you used that mouth of yours to something other than pointless arguments?” Sukuna leaned back on the throne, spreading his thick legs and undoing the knot on his robe. The angle you were in gave you a pretty good look on what you were going to be working with.

If there was a source of light behind Sukuna you would have his dick casting a shadow on your entire face.

“Sukuna…” you called his name in scared tone, all your confidence fading out as you noticed from up close the thick veins.

“Do I really have to teach you everything?” he pulled away from the throne backrest getting closer to you, roughly taking your wrist and turning your palm up.

When you met his eyes he had a mischievous look, he snorted leaving you wondering what about your expression he found funny.

Then he spited in your palm and made you wrap it around his length.

You couldn’t help but gasp, such a dirty act and still your thighs were pressed together as hard as you could to get some friction on your core.

You had no idea what the average size was, but Sukuna was definitely above that. Your fingers weren’t even close to touch, how were you supposed to…?

“Come closer” he spread his legs, Sukuna was back to his original position, back against the rest, looking down at you like you were a bug. You noticed the frown was gone, like he was more relaxed.

You obeyed, moving more into the middle of his legs your face now just inches from his dick.

His hand guided yours up, stopping before the head and going back down encouraging you to squeeze his base, his chest was rising faster as you learned the way he liked it. You approached the dark red tip, giving it a kitten lick to test waters, a satisfied groan from the devil made your face heat up.

“Don’t be shy” he placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down his hard cock as you put your hands on his thighs for support.

Sukuna pulled you back before he hit the back of your throat, when your lips reached his tip you sucked it and felt his hand closing and pulling your hair.

“Liked the taste?” he teased. You would never admit it out loud… but you did. The bitterness of it and his scent made you high.

Being a virgin you didn’t expect a cock to be so hot. Literally. You felt your cheeks burn just being this close to his hot skin.

Your tongue traced the underside of his length, the warmest point of him. Out of curiosity you reached for his balls too, they ehere even hotter and so heavy.

Sukuna adjusted his hips, tilting it a little but enough to make you gag on it.

“Open wider” his rough hand held your face, index and tumb forcing the sides of your jaw to stretch more. It hurt, you wined, sinking your nails on his thigh, “Relax…”

You’ve read porn before, you know what you’re supposed to do, in theory.

“I need to buy cigarettes, you can wait here” Aki told you when you reached a convenience store.

“I’ll go in with you” you replied, while Aki went to the counter you walked to where the maganize were. You picked the newest edition of a popular one, flipping through it you found an interesting article. It was a reader question for the recurring sexologist. My husband never comes when I suck him off, what should I do to improve my head game?

You brought the magazine closer, not fully reading the answer but just scanning your eyes over the words that stood out the most.

Create a vacuum by pursing your lips… focus on the frenulum… suck the balls… swallow when it reaches the back of your—

“You buying this?” Aki was suddenly beside you, your head was basically inside the magazine, thankfully shielding the content.

“No, there’s nothing good” you closed it quickly and put it back.

You should’ve come back for that.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax your throat as Sukuna applied pressure to the back of your head, as soon as his thickness reaches the very back of your throat your eyes fill with water.

“That’s it, choke around my cock, little hunter. Allow me to bruise that throat of yours” he bucks his hips and you realize you have almost no control over it anymore, just surrender to the situation. A mixture of liquids accumulated on your chin, almost dripping.

Sukuna love this more than he should, you looked so helpless. But those eyes didn’t deceive him, he could see the lust, the hazy look and your delicate hand under his balls told him the secrets you didn’t.

“You’re such a whore, you know that?” you swallowed, “You know why?” he bent, one hand still on the back of your head and the other around your neck, he pushed you until your lips were amost at his base. All the heavy meat of his cock down your throat.

Your teary eyes looked up at him, the hand on your neck closed around it, Sukuna could feel his own shape through your skin. You eyes widened realizing you could barely breath.

“Because good girls don’t take dick like this” he trusted a few more times until you felt it twitch, your hair was aggressively being pulled but the hand around your neck kept you in place while he shot hot loads down your esophagus.

“Eat it” he commanded and you obeyed, shutting your eyes and swelling it, although it was a lot.

Sukuna pulled you away, mesmerized by the string of cum and saliva connecting your mouth to his cock.

You inhaled for the first time since this started but soon began to cough, your jaw ached and your legs were numb beneath you.

“Monster” you managed to murmur in a extremely husky voice.

“Please” he was catching up his own breath, through blurry eyes you could see his abdomen was sweaty, his thigh was slightly shaking. Sukuna bent, supporting his elbows on his knees to get really close to your messed face, his huge hand approached your face and out of reflex you fliched, but with a delicacy you would never expect he removed the strands of your hair that got caugh in your wet face. The sudden act made your face soften, he ran a thumb over your swallowed lips, rubbing the saliva off, he looked at you with a proud smirk. You felt vulnerable at that moment, his eyes didn't seem dangerous, and he was so close you couldn’t help but close your eyes and reach for a kiss.

You found nothing.

Opening your eyes again you saw the tiles of your bathroom, finding yourself naked on the floor. Droplets of your wet hair ran down your back, you took your towel off the floor and wrap it around your shoulders and attempted to get up, groaning from the pain on your knees. The groan scratched your sore throat and you started to cough again, moving to the sink you lowered your head trying to get some water but the image in the mirror scared you. There was a clear imprint of a hand around your neck, you traced it in shock. You thought about what to say tomorrow at work, should you wear a scarf?

But the most important question was: how deeply involved were you with Sukuna now that he had literally marked you?

#sukuna x you #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #chainsaw man x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #csm x reader #jjk smut #sukuna x y/n #devil!Sukuna

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postmodernbeliever · 1 month

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how to relax - fox mulder x female reader (smut)

a seemingly endless case in the middle of nowhere has you stressed out of your mind, to the point where the only thing that doesn't push you too far is fox mulder. with all that stress and no way to reel yourself in, your partner decides he wants to help show you how to relax.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

wrote this bc sometimes we (i) just need a (toe curling) self-insert to satisfy our (my) daydreams. i dedicate this to all those who are chubby and in love with fox mulder. if you prefer to read on ao3, you can find me at the same username.

my ao3 | word count; 5,419 (i got excited, okay?)

content tags (i copied from ao3 bc im lazy): dom fox mulder, praise kink, fluff and smut, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, hand & finger kink, subspace, size difference, belly bulge, co-workers, mutual pining, idiots in love, pet names, stress relief, cross-posted on ao3, smut, subtle plus size reader, soft fox mulder, mentions of freudian shit bc come on this is the x files, talking you through it, fox is literally so awoooooga the whole time, fox gets cocky as always, fox mulder the munch, bathroom sex, fox just can’t help himself literally so i hope you enjoy

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

you’d been beyond stressed all day, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for you. what was frustrating was that you had managed to grow so agitated that it seemed nothing could help you calm down.

your work with the fbi was your life, in all its stress-inducing, time-consuming, hair-splitting glory. you were as tight-assed as they came (ask literally anybody!) all of that pressure on top of a naturally anxious and irritable demeanor made you difficult to enjoy being around, and you knew it. but today, of all days, it was truly catching up to you physically. the muscles of your jaw were sore from the tension they held, fighting between your teeth for release. your head swelled between your eyes and nose, pulsing softly like a glowing light that wouldn’t dim. your throat was dry, your footsteps heavy, your hands restless; you were wound so tight that everyone you encountered feared you might snap like a rubber band, lashing against them in recoil.

fox mulder was the only one who had stayed on your good side all day, which is surprising, given your partner was typically the casual aggressor of your everyday life- what with his constant nagging and ridiculous speculations about every crime you investigated. he never once changed his attitude, let alone change the color shirt he wore to work every day. yet it seemed this time he was off the hook, because the case you’d both been assigned was dragging like no other.

it was your fifth day in the desolate yellow countryside of a rural town you so lovingly renamed as bumblefuck, virginia; all you possessed was an immaterial, mulder-esque lead that couldn’t be pinned down (as your fellow agent was torn between shapeshifter and werewolf). on top of that were ten dead bodies, no evidence, and a motel room with broken air conditioning, complete with a leaky sink. you were sick to death of the heat, and the town, and the local policemen who seemed to have but two executive functions: hit on you or ignore your assertions. for a stagnant fifth day, you’d experienced more frustration than ever- the cops have begun to give up on catching a suspect, fox was investigating muddy footprints all afternoon like the freak he is, and you were stuck to sit in the closet-sized archives room at the local library where teenagers and nagging townspeople came in to ogle the “fbi lady”… jesus, no wonder your head hurts.

fox came by every so often to check on you that afternoon. once with a cup of coffee, once with half of a sandwich he’d thoughtfully taken a bite out of to piss you off, and again with dirt all over his face and a wild story about how he caught a glimpse of his x file mid-attack. if you weren’t used to his personality by now it might’ve made things worse, but in a way his teasing and subtle acts of service were the only soothing memories you had to reflect on. he was a moment of consistency between the endless chaotic installments of the afternoon.

at the end of the day, you were mentally exhausted, hungry for the other half of that sandwich fox ate, and in need of the shitty motel bed; at the very least some peace and quiet, just for one night. but it seemed your partner wouldn’t let you have it.

you’d had about an hour to yourself before fox materialized in your motel room. after a shower that quickly ran cold, you slipped into a sweatshirt, a threadbare set of sleep shorts that were a bit tight for your pudgy legs, and two flimsy socks that didn’t match because you hadn’t packed for a trip this long. you’d tried watching the television, but the antennae were spotty no matter how you arranged them. the air conditioning machine clanked and whistled nonstop, and hiding under your pillows didn’t dull the racket. the best part was when you tried to light the little bedside yankee candle and the lighter ran out of fluid- but not before it sparked and burned your thumb. you’d finally begun to decompress when a familiar knock sounded from outside. summoning a forcibly loud groan- so your tall visitor heard exactly how you felt- you clambered off the creaking bed and towards the door, which revealed his trademark smug smile.

“good evening, watson!”

“what do you want?” you sighed, closing your eyes.

you felt his hand push your shoulder to the side, and the man squeezed past you into the room. you scoffed and said, “oh, please, make yourself at home!”

“i will, thank you,” fox teased. “i came to check on you.”

“because?”

“well, you’ve been a wreck all day! didn’t laugh at one of my jokes. you nearly bit the sheriff's head off tonight when we checked in at the station before leaving… i just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

��oh? well, you know what? no, mulder, i’m not okay. we’ve been stranded out in the middle of nowhere for a week with no leads and no progress and the food here sucks and i haven’t had a single good night’s sleep and all my socks are dirty!” you ranted, pacing in front of the half-open door like a lunatic.

fox grinned as if he knew something you didn’t and turned from you, heading towards the tiny bathroom tucked in the corner of the room. you slammed the front door shut and followed him, snapping, “what, you come in asking how i feel and just walk away? explain to me how that makes any sense, mulder!”

the agent leaned against the bathroom sink, hands laid curiously on the lip of the counter. he dutifully watched the little crystal droplets that fell rhythmically down the ceramic bowl. the air surrounding him felt charged, like if you stepped too close, you’d get shocked; almost as if his thoughts were electrifying the oxygen.

he frustrated you beyond belief sometimes. the man stood in your bathroom like his day was going perfectly fine. a gray t-shirt clung to his lean arms, hugging the curves of his biceps like it was tailored for him alone; his sweatpants were black and littered with lint from the hairy couch in his apartment, and they hung low on his hips, peeping the waistband of his black boxers like a well-known secret. his hair was pointing every which way in its tawny misdirection, and he had the nerve to inspect your sink, and lick his lips like he had all the time in the world to enjoy the southern sticks and lupine mysteries, all while you had to scour newspapers and sleep in ten minute increments to survive.

“mulder, what the hell are you doing?”

“your sink is leaking.”

“yeah, i know, sherlock.”

“did you ask them to fix it?”

“mulder, i will not hesitate to kick you out.”

“jeez, somebody’s worked up.”

the man pivoted on his feet, facing you with a newfound sense of purpose. you were prepared to object his statement, but were silenced by his hands finding your hips. he was so quick to slide you up onto the counter that you forgot your rebuttal- in fact, in his rush to relocate you, you’d forgotten to think entirely. he had your thighs pinned to the cold, white countertop, and parted so he could press his tummy to the spot where your legs met. his shirt rode up in the moment, and you could feel the warmth of his bare skin against the fabric of your shorts.

fox’s hands felt rough. you stared at them, at the sheer size, and recollected all the little stolen glances of those fingers sifting through his filing cabinets, or analyzing your field notes, or polishing his gun. countless vivid reminders of the strength of them as they pulled you back from bullets and unexpected staircases flashed before your eyes. how often you longed for them, you couldn’t say, but it was clear to you now as those same hands held you down that you had taken a serious liking to them.

it took you a while, but you managed to mutter, “what are you doing?”

fox could only smile wider and say, “you need to relax, don’t you?”

“what does that-”

“why don’t you let me help you?”

you swallowed thickly, feeling a bubbling heat rise in your belly. his calloused palms rode up your legs, finding room for his thumbs to begin drawing soft, sweeping circles against your hip bones. your brain clouded so fast you forgot to answer.

“i’ve never seen you so aggravated before… like, by every little thing. i mean, i know you get annoyed, but these past couple days have been so rough for you, haven’t they? just can’t calm down, can you? you look so tired, so tense. i can feel all the tension you’re keeping right… here,” he consoled, letting up on your hips to press a hand to your lower abdomen. when you sucked in a nervous breath, the man pressed a little harder, and you twitched beneath him. “i can fix that for you, if you want. show you how to relax a little.”

“y-you’re not even supposed to be in here,” you wheezed, “agents… agents aren’t supposed to consort in the same room, mulder, remember?”

“awh, come on, don’t start following the rules on me now! don’t you wanna feel better, honey?”

fox spoke like every word was a secret, leaning in close to your ear. the scruff of his five o’clock shadow brushed against your fresh face, eliciting a spidery chill down your spine.

“what’s gotten into you, mulder?”

“i asked you a question, sweetheart.”

you panicked, swallowing air like it was water. these kinds of questions felt new coming from him. anxiously, you let out a shaky breath and nodded, hoping that was enough. you couldn’t handle much else.

“is that a yes?”

“...mhm.”

“can you say yes for me?”

fuck. “yes.”

“good girl. it’ll help, i promise.”

it seemed he couldn’t be going any slower than he was just then, gingerly removing his hands from your waist and biting his lower lip like the reincarnate of a dream you’d entertained too many times before. you watched with a spinning head as his long, spindly fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts. his pale eyes twinkled at you, sage steeped in milk, as he asked, “can i?” in that lilting voice he uses only when the room is begging for quiet. when you eagerly nodded, he chuckled, “lift up for me a little, okay?”

you followed orders and pressed your shaky hands to the tile, raising your hips so he had room to slide your shorts down. his face melted at the sight of you underneath.

night after night, he’d fantasized about those doe eyes of yours watching him free you up like this, but he never imagined he’d get the chance. until this afternoon, when he resolved to create the chance. through all these years working beside you, he’s only grown to admire you more. you were cunning, you were gentle with kids, you were smarter than he ever could be (even if you disagreed.) but you were also tired. you lived alone, you slept alone, you never asked for help and you declined every offer. fox hated to see you facilitate your own frustration. and this past week has only exacerbated his need to fix it- watching you so angry, so pent up, so in need of attention- he couldn't bear to let you suffer any longer. it seems he’s been lucky, too, because you sat quietly, patiently, all so that he could take care of you. grateful for the opportunity, fox didn’t want to waste any more time.

with those dreamy fingertips grazing your underwear, fox was the spitting image of boyish charm. he admired the worn black and grey striped fabric covering what was left of you, thinking aloud, “had these for a while, huh?”

“since i was in college,” you muttered, “everything i wore was dark back then.”

“nothing’s changed. you’re very punk rock,” he winked.

you didn’t know you were capable of laughing in your current state, but it came bubbling up in a nervous overflow. he watched your lips curl, and the way you threw your head back like you couldn’t stop yourself. you felt embarrassed to be so swayed by his stupid humor, but you had no choice. not when he had you wrapped around his finger like this.

“you’re a dork.”

“you like it, though,” he reassured.

you watched the man hesitate, eyes darting down to your lips; you closed your eyes, hoping it would nudge him in the right direction, and you were right. fox had to crane his neck down a bit- because even with you on the counter, he was still taller- but he made himself level, and he pressed his lips to yours so gently you almost didn’t feel him there. what announced him was the taste of him, actually; stale coffee on his tongue, and what you deduced to be the black-label chapstick, the kind that tasted like medicine. you toppled into him like you were falling off a cliff, clinging to the hem of his shirt in longing.

fox seemed to like how you hung on him. it made him feel risky. his hands meandered across your tummy, pushing up under your sweatshirt and roaming the soft skin of your back. he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged softly, and when you opened your eyes in surprise, he nudged your nose like a kitten and let it go. he was good at taking control like this, at making your nerves ebb and flow to his pace. you were so entranced in the way his lips meshed with yours that when his dominant hand found its way to your hips again, you mewled in anticipation.

“you sound a lot prettier when you’re not arguing with me,” fox joked. you met him with a soft sound from the back of your throat, and his eyebrows furrowed in amusement. “can barely speak, can you?”

“mm-mm,” you answered, trying to trap his lips again, but he pulled away.

his eyes shifted shade, and you were now seeing yourself reflected in much darker irises. your back shivered against the mirror on the wall. he broke eye contact and let it linger on your legs, his palms swiping over the skin with intention. swiftly, he bent over and began pressing kisses to your inner thighs. you let out a strangled whine, which made him shudder.

“you want me to get to it, hm?”

“please, f… mulder,” you whispered, blushing like a fool.

the man rose again to lock you in a soft kiss, one so much more loving than the others that it let butterflies loose in your chest. interrupting their fluttering, he prodded, “what was that?”

it was out of you before you had a chance to weigh the outcomes. “please, fox.”

having teased long enough, fox dropped to his knees and pushed your panties aside. his mouth was so slick from all the time it spent on yours that it was dangerously warm as it pressed against your heat. you let out a lewd string of moans as his tongue trailed a long, torturous stripe between your folds, taking his sweet time getting to the top. he felt you throbbing, all the blood in your body pulsing like a heartbeat for him. his lips, just a bit swollen, peppered a few gentle kisses to the skin before surrounding your bud and starting to suck.

you squeezed your eyes shut so hard it nearly brought your headache back. fox grunted between your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into your bones. you softened for his tongue as it swirled inside your pussy, tracing shapes to drive you insane. your hands burrowed into his cropped cut and tugged in desperation, which he liked so much it practically made him growl; the sound bounced between your walls, sending a sensation into your stomach that made your legs tremble. he felt so good inside you like this, lapping like a puppy at your water; you bucked against his big nose, craving the friction, and he responded with relentless thirst for you.

“fuck!” you whined, “fox- agh,”

coming up for a gulp of air, you caught a glimpse of his slick chin as it glinted in the yellow light. “feels good?”

“shit,” you panted, “yes, obviously… more,”

“more, huh?” fox licked his lips with hungry eyes. “i’m gonna need you to say please, baby.”

“jesus, fox, please! pretty please, baby, please just keep going,”

“fuck, don’t call me names…” the man swooned at the broken cry in your voice, resolving to give you whatever you needed until the day you die. now wasn’t the time for confession, though, so he filed that away for later. “pretty please. god, you’re good.”

you nearly choked as he pushed two fingers into you, curling them in a rough come-hither motion. he bombarded you with himself, sucking hard on your clit and fucking his fingers into the swelling spot inside you, making you lurch against his touch like an animal. with your head thrown back against the motel mirror and pretty mouth gasping for him, he realized that his dreams could never do this moment justice. the sugary, tangy taste you left on his tongue, your soft skin that smelled like shower suffocating him, the way his name rolled off your tongue- you were the real fucking deal, not some half-assed daydream that got him off at night. you were beautiful, and for not being a praying man, being on his knees before you felt right. who was he to stand eye to eye with you, when down here where you were perched above him like an angel, he had so much more room to worship you?

“fuck, i- oh, i’m…” you whimpered, grinding against his face with fervor.

“let it go, honey, come on,” he cooed, “i’ll take care of you.”

“b-but i- i’ve never- oh my god!”

the agent watched you battle with yourself, all the while writhing on the countertop, so he carefully brought his thumb to your clit and picked up the pace. he rose to you again, using his free arm to slither around the base of your back and pull your body flush against his. you bunched his shirt in your fists helplessly and hid your face in his shoulder. it took all his strength not to collapse right then and there, but he kept moving for you, and you rocked against his palm like you were made for it. when he realized you were going to need a little more help, he gave it to you.

you were stressed, after all, and sometimes somebody’s just got to talk you through it, right?

“never had it this good before, hm? nobody’s ever made you cum, sweetheart? you poor thing,” fox twitted, clicking his tongue. “you work so hard. my smart girl, so good at her job, so independent… you deserve to be taken care of, to feel good, baby. to let go of all that stress,”

you struggled to think straight as his gruff voice battled the ringing in your ears. his palm pressed against your back with so much care, like if he moved it you’d shatter into a million pieces. it was all so much, to have your partner with you like this; to hear him breathing beside you, to feel his fingers in a place you’d never thought they’d be. he saw the gears turning in your head still, and he wanted to shut your brain off for good. and god, did he. fox coaxed it right out of you like it was his job.

“come on, good girl, you can do it,” he whispered. “cum for me, honey, i know you can. show me you can.”

for every moment of danger you found yourself stuck in, fox was there to protect you. when you got reprimanded by a director, he was there to hold your hand behind the safety of the desk. when you were late and needed a cover, he was prepared with a detailed story. you’d forgotten a raincoat a comical number of times, so many in fact that he began keeping a spare in his office for you to borrow. fox was always there, waiting to help you, to guide you, and if it was fucked up (so far as to call it freudian) then so be it- you needed it from him. you needed his safety, his warmth, the strength of his arms around you. his reassurance.

and to hear him care for you like this, too, to pull on your strings and unravel you like a tired tapestry… god, nothing ever felt so good.

fox’s eyes rolled back as you twitched on his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer into the stuffy bathroom air. your hands struggled to find a place to stay as they combed through his hair frantically, tugging and trembling; it was like you’d never been touched before in your life. you had, but very few times, and it was just like he said- nobody had done it right. but he had. it felt like his hands were crafted to please you. they knew exactly where to touch, how fast, how gentle, how deep. the man figured you out instantly, which was as exciting as it was terrifying. you’ve never felt so out of it in your entire life.

you panted wildly, and fox gave soft kisses to your hair while you tried to regain your composure. but you couldn’t. you couldn’t get a grasp on anything. the world was floating in limbo around you, all inconstant; the countertop felt as foreign to you as flying did. but even in your daze, you craved more- the second he stopped, you needed him to start again. you could barely speak, but he heard your mumblings: “m…more, more, f… foxie,”

that nickname gave him goosebumps. slowly, he said, “baby, i don’t have anything with me for that,”

“don’t care. please.” you begged. there was no way he could say no to you, not when your pretty, cloudy eyes looked up at him how they did.

“okay, baby, okay.”

fox gave no warning, but nothing would have prepared you anyway- you instinctively opened your hips wider just to make enough room for him. he pushed all the way in, letting himself bottom out; the man let out a moan so guttural that you clenched around him in reflex. you were lucky enough to see him make that pretty ‘o’ face, and that might’ve been enough for you, honestly, but it wasn’t for him. he needed you, and he needed you fast.

his thrusts were no match for all the grinding you could do. he snapped back and forth like a whip, hips rolling so hard that it felt like he was digging inside you deeper each time. you dragged your nails down his back, trying to find something to hold onto, but his moans in your ear as he hid his face in your neck were so distracting you kept having to start over.

“jesus, baby, you’re so tight for me,” he grumbled, “feels so good, you’re doing so good… fuck, my good girl.”

his praise made every nerve in your body short-circuit. it didn’t matter how he moved, you couldn’t stop babbling. he tugged your hips forward a little more, making you slump against the mirror, and you clutched the countertop for dear life.

“can’t use your words, huh, baby? look at you, smartest analyst in the fbi and you can barely speak, all because of me,” he tormented. the man pressed his right hand against your tummy again, just like he had before, and he growled with lust. he seized your hand and pressed it flat beneath his in the same spot, and he fucked you harder, forcing it down until you felt his thrusting beneath your palm. you never thought you’d feel anything like this, not with your soft stomach, but he was making it possible.

“you feel that, pretty? feel me inside you, filling you up? you’re mine now. all mine.”

you had no control. you whined, “foxie,” jerking your hips against his cock in a craze.

“god, that’s right, that’s my girl.” he smiled.

“s-so… a-agh, please!”

“mm, i know, baby, keep going,”

you had no more words left, you’d used them all. fox had figured out how to take away all your stress, yet in the process, he took your whole mind with it. now you were just his, a thing to be kissed, a fleshy body for him to praise. for a control freak, you loved being the one under another’s control for once.

you scratched at fox’s shoulders, a mindless drop of drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth. you felt his cock as it swelled against your slick walls, and how it poked against your insides, and if that weren’t enough, he moved his hand to your clit again and resumed rubbing those blissful circles into it. you could only sit there and grind against his touch, muttering strings of curses and unintelligible sounds.

“agh, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” his moans were growing harsh, turning into whines. “all fucked out, mm, so pretty for me,”

his hips started snapping erratically, and your back arched against the increasing speed. his teeth met your shoulder and he bit softly, grumbling, “i’m so close,”

in what felt like a cry but came out as a strangled whimper, you warned, “m’gonna… agh…”

fox watched your face screw up in pleasure, and it pushed him right over the edge. your body collapsed as you let go, and he rushed to hold you to him and keep you upright. all the way in your gut, where your hand once rested, you felt him pooling all over, thick and warm. his thumb swirled you slowly, working you through it so you didn’t get too shocked. he was stationary for a while, unable to move from the overstimulation; but when he did, he watched the stuff bubble out of you, though only just a bit. his throat closing up at the sight. he gathered some of it on his fingers and raised them to your lips, and you licked them sweetly. his stomach churned as you gazed down at his hand with foggy eyes, somehow still lustful after all he’d done to tire you out.

“good job, baby, you were so good for me,” he crooned, leaving sloppy, tired kisses all over your neck. “someone’s gotta take care of you, don’t they?”

you just murmured little hums, and he loved every second of it.

“you hear me, pretty girl? nobody takes better care of you than me, you got it? who takes good care of you?”

“foxie,” you admitted in your mindless bliss.

“that’s right, baby, foxie does. you’re all mine, honey,” he gushed. “not so stressed anymore, are you?”

“mm-mm.”

“are you okay? take a deep breath for me.”

you tried to speak, but the words weren’t forming. you couldn’t string anything together. all you could do was make quiet noises and mutter his name. “mmph… foxie,”

“here, come here, honey.”

fox tucked his hands beneath your thighs, and after instructing you to wrap your arms around his neck nice and tight, he carried you from the croaking bathroom sink to the motel bed, where he took extra care in laying you down comfortably. he climbed on top of you and adjusted your shirt, smoothing the fabric over your plush tummy and drawing a dopey smile from you.

“stuck in your head, hm?” fox asked.

he’d read up on this type of thing before- subspaces. typically common in BDSM practices, but not exclusively. there was a study conducted that detailed the experience theoretically as a headspace induced by rushes of endorphins, causing the receiver to fall into a trance-like state. he remembered reading how when someone is in a subspace their ability to communicate can be impaired and so can their judgment. it was also suggested that asking grounding questions may help coax people out of them (don’t ask how he found such a study.) so being the guy he is, he took everything very slowly from there, and followed the science.

“can you hear me, sweetheart?”

“mm.”

“good. what’s my name?”

your stomach fluttered at the question, and warmth pooled between your hips at the softness with which he asked, but your brain was two steps behind. it took you a minute to answer, and you could only do it with your eyes closed. “foxie,” you muttered.

“good girl, good job. that’s right,” he rewarded you with a kiss to the collarbone. beneath his breath he muttered, “fuck, if that isn’t cute.”

he could see you were somewhere else. all of your behavior was so needy. you might’ve thought you were a headcase before, but he’s no stranger to id impulses either; he saw how you pushed into his palms, how you refused to let go of his shirt, and he just wanted to help you through it. he wanted to make sure you felt safe.

“baby, can you open your eyes for me? can you let me see your pretty eyes?”

you peeked through one and saw his handsome face staring back at you, that toothy grin blooming flowers in your chest. slowly you opened the other, and even though the world was swirling, you managed to keep them open.

“you’re doing so good, thank you, baby,” he chuckled. “now, i’m gonna put your shorts back on, okay?”

“m’kay.”

you took a deep breath. he watched your chest rise and fall, and your cheeks burn even redder than he thought possible. your hand held his wrist tightly, tight enough that he prayed your nails would leave little moon-shaped marks behind. you shook your head and tried to wipe away the fuzzy feeling.

“what’s my name again?” he asked, noticing how hard you were trying to focus. he tapped on your hip so you’d know to lift them, and he wriggled your shorts back on, admiring how they hugged the skin.

“f-fox.”

“good. what’s my job?”

“you’re… a profiler,” you volleyed, feeling a little more grounded with each passing second.

“good girl. and where are we, honey?”

you squinted at him and smiled, “bumblefuck, virginia.”

when fox laughed, it felt like all the angels rung their bells. something about seeing his face light up and whatever was plaguing him, whatever he was in danger of, just wash away in the moment was nothing short of enlightenment. you wished he’d laugh more, so you could see divine intervention on the regular.

“coming back to me, hm?”

“yeah,” you giggled.

fox leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i’m trying not to let my ego explode right now, you know,” he smirked, “i never thought you wanted me so bad.”

you blushed, hiding behind your hands. “i… oh, god.”

“no, no, it was cute! really. you… you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted to do that.” he promised.

“i’ve never felt-” you paused, wondering if it was worth saying. yet, if he could bring you back to earth after fucking you stupid, what secrets could you hide from him? “i’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

“who, me?” fox laughed.

“mhm. it’s just… agh. you. it’s only you, fox. embarrassingly so.”

it was his turn to blush then. fox leaned down to catch you in one more kiss, and you felt his hand search the bedsheets for yours so he could tangle your fingers with his own. he didn’t want to break away, so he said it right into your mouth, pausing for air: “god- i have- loved- you for- so long.”

fox couldn’t help but feel proud of himself as he laid down between your legs, resting his head on your warm belly like it was a pillow. you instinctively took to his hair, playing with the chocolatey tufts and wishing he’d never move. he fit so perfectly right there, and now you couldn’t ever let him go. you didn’t want to.

with one last kiss to your hip, fox grinned. “told you i could help.”

#spooky mulder #x files #fox mulder #smut #smut and fluff #fox mulder smut #x files smut #fox mulder x reader #agent mulder #fox mulder x you #praise k!nk #soft d0m #Spotify

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dragonagitator · 2 months

Text

House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?

Scenario parameters:

All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.

You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.

You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.

Questions:

So, what do you do?

How much would you tell House?

How would you get him to believe you?

Who else would you tell?

How much would you tell them?

Inspiration:

The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.

(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)

My short answer:

My long answers are below the cut.

So, what do you do?

My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.

My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.

Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."

Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:

A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.

Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.

Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.

Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.

Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"

Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.

I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.

Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.

I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.

Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.

Possible sidequests:

Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.

Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.

Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.

How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?

Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?

My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.

If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.

I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)

Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.

Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?

There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.

My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.

House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.

I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)

I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.

If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.

What would you do?

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yellowocaballero · 9 months

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dude psyched ur reading orv, insanely curious about ur takes

My friend @charterandbarter put it best.

ORV is pretty fascinating to me. It's really just a self-insert isekai OP webnovel, and it is nothing else. Its medium is trashy and lowbrow, and its genre is almost devoid of high art. OP isekais are 'id' stories, meant to be satisfying and fun and contain very little of substance. ORV is a very well executed OP isekai - it contains the elements of the genre that make it satisfying, it understands why people read the genre and enjoy it, it reproduces those elements very well, and it is very concerned with telling an enjoyable story. ORV really, really loves webnovels and isekais and shitty wishfuillment stories. There's a lot more to ORV than the 'fist pump' moments of kdj doing something cool or pulling a fast one on a shmuck, but those moments are the undoubtedly the point of ORV, as they are the point of all SIOC isekai OP webnovels. And that's the point of ORV.

Metanarrative stories are cheap. Neil Gaiman's written 30 and millenials love waxing philosophical about the power of narratives. These metanarratives tend to describe stories as a theoretical framework through which we understand the world and our lives. Therefore, stories are tremendously important and valuable because they contain the totality of religion, history, culture, relationships, and lives. ORV says this too. But this theory tends to land at mystifying and exalting stories on virtue of them being stories, which I think misses the point. Stories aren't special because they're stories. They're not more sacred for containing our lives. What ORV says is that stories are important, because our lives are important. I like that a lot more.

ORV says that stories are our way of ordering a disordered world. A history, culture, nation, and religion are stories. None of those stories are true or real, because histories/cultures/nations/religions are constructs - they're how we interface with reality. They're created with a purpose, told for a point, pulled together into a narrative, and are satisfying or dissatisfying based on certain factors. ORV's perspective on fiction is deeply seeped in its own nature as 'low art'. There's something very cynical and commercialized about narratives in ORV, and every narrative in ORV is being told for a quick buck or to try and spread an idea for an individual's gains. It's a very unromantic, unimpressed view of narratives and fiction. It's pretty much the only way a SIOC OP isekai webnovel like ORV can talk about it without being disingenuous. And it's remarkably raw and visceral as a result, because ORV loves SIOC OP isekai webnovels like kdj loves yjh. Fiercely, insanely, like breathing, exactly for what it is. No pretensions.

It's bizarre, because ORV is about love. It's not about love for anything that deserves it. Not for a story with a lot of literary merit, a main character who is a remotely kind or lovable person, or art itself outside of its commercial or philosophical value. kdj really, really, really fucked loved TWS - because it was there, and because it lasted 15 years, and because it was fake, and because it was what he had. He loves yjh because yjh was his only companion in a dark world. That's fiction. Fiction helped him survive, because love is a way of ordering a disordered world.

I'm still reading myself, but ORV seems to be about how we manage to live in a hard world, and how to find it within ourselves to love each other and find meaning in that hard world. I see why kdj's the protagonist: he can find merit in something for existing, and loving it for being there, and he holds onto something because he has it. He sees the value in that. He read it in a book.

TL;DR: ORV is well-executed trashy commercialized art that is so obsessed with trashy commercialized art that it's looped straight back around into being somehow the most raw and visceral depiction of love I've seen in a long time.

#wish i could lie to myself and say that yall aint getting orv fic but :/#my asks #I don't know what it'd be about but it'd be written under a heavy burden #of having to write the most insane thing physically possible #writing boring orv fic is a sin and baby the fucking ao3 tag is tartarus #hey why do i have to type kdj and yjh #why can't i just say dokja or joonghyuk #why are we full naming everybody at all times #this is the only webnovel i've ever read and its a big learning curve for me

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fyodorloveclub · 1 year

Note

ok hii horny hours in the shower made me cook this shi up:

ok ok so IMAGINE government spy reader (like ango!!) w/ port mafia executive dazai and he finds out theyre a spy AND blackmails them into sex n shit (an occasional cockwarming n sum head would be nice too..) im so sorry this is so filthy i am not used to this BUT LISTEN

OH OH OH I LOVE THIS i can just imagine him backing you against a wall closely and whispering into your ear how he’s gonna rat you out to mori and all of the terrible consequences you’ll face…. but if you let him fuck you stupid he’ll keep his pretty mouth shut :)

and it turns out to not be just a one time ordeal bc he’s horrible hgfdhgfh yeah he’ll be like sit on my cock for a bit while i get some busy work done :) of course you can refuse but if you do…….. insert some insane torture you’d face for being a traitor but honestly you’d end up wanting to do it anyway so,,,

like at first you were fucking terrified, so scared that he was gonna use you then expose you anyway bc dazai is very self serving and you’re honestly still a bit scared of that but he’s kept you around for a while at this point and kept his word lmaooo so.. and this was perfect for him bc im sure he’d just been waiting for a way to get you under him and this perfect opportunity just fell into his lap!

i like the head part too and bc i’m a slut for exhibitionism he’d have you under the desk while he discussed things in his office or under the table during an exec meeting he’s so goofy and silly

maybe you’d have to report back to ango if you were part of the special division or something but you didn’t want him to know so you’d just be like yea everything is going perfectly just swimmingly!

#this turned into so much more than i meant it to sorry jshdsjhdjs #also i love when yall are like this is so filthy 🫣 but it’s so tame compared to the hell-worthy bullshit i post 💀#voices in my head #demons #dazai x reader #dazai smut #{ musings; dazai }

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a-998h · 2 months

Note

Hi I hope your having a good day.

Anyways I've got a sagau idea

So I've made like ten-ish or over OCs who look exactly like/similar to me because of Lore Reasons.

So pretend Reader has their own universe with a look-alike self-insert and over ten OCs who look just like their IRL self because of Lore Reasons.

It only applies to physical appearance and it ranges from "you're identical to the Reader" to "you could be a relative to them."

Let's say that instead of Reader getting Isekai-ed to Teyvat, one of their OCs who looks just like them lands in there instead and is executed in Imposter AU fashion, no matter how much they say they aren't Reader and never even claimed to be them.

They wake up in their universe like it was just a nightmare, but now have scars permanently acquired from the Imposter Hunt.

As for Reader, they had a nightmare where they saw their OC brutally hunted and killed in all the worst angles and don't take it well.

Next time its time to boot up Genshin Impact, they just hand it to a friend who loves the game but don't have the storage to play it, and just watches them play.

Their acolytes are wondering why their creator isn't controlling them anymore.

"As glad as I am that your letting me play, what's the fuck happened to make you let go of your borderline obsession with it?"

"Nightmare."

"one hell of a nightmare to put this off, the fuck happened?"

"You know [OC's Name]? I had a nightmare they woke up in Teyvat and was murdered and tortured by almost everyone in Teyvat. Because they looked like a Creator Deity."

"There's never even been a mention of a Creator God, and looking like them got one of your favorites killed, good god."

"yeah I can't stomach this anymore. I think I'll focus on my own original creations instead, you can have my account for now on."

"Woof. Not too keen on spoiling my Teyvatian faves myself knowing they might be culpable in making you sad."

"yeah I'm scared of having nightmares of my other look-alikes being murdered."

"Whatever makes you happy."

From then on Teyvat has to grapple with only having attention from a friend of their Creator occasionally giving them the time of day instead of their Creator's doting.

Teyvat will have to grapple with the 'imposter' being one of their many direct creation always meant to look just like them.

Teyvat will have to grapple with having executed a direct creation of the creator and loosing their love because of it. All that love now directed to those very mistreated creations.

Teyvat will have to grapple with their Creator Deity not even knowing/remembering that they created Teyvat, and only thinks they made their current focus.

Okay now I'm imagining an AU where another look-alikes OC whose heard of what happens the first time around wakes up in Teyvat and it very intent on staying away from civilization and finding their own way back to their universe.

Like what if this happened because Teyvat or other parties couldn't get the Creator back yet, so they settled for the next best thing. Their own creation who looked oh so similar.

This fits with my own lore for my series on my blog.

They want you. You're their beloved god but they can't have you, at least not yet. Thanks to Travel and the existence of you controlling them they knew other world exist.

The first they thought was a copy of you. They hunted the imposter, how dare this weakling impersonate their god. The death was brutal. That one woke up with scars.

This repeated for who know how long. As they come to terms with the fact that they won't have you just yet, the settle for someone they think is related to you. There are traits shared between the two of you, but that one isn't their god. But the have to settle until they can have you.

The nightmares that follow you push you away, they're sorry. They want you back, they'll be nice to the next one if you just look their way again. Please, they need you.

There is guilt, they killed a creation of yours with no remorse. They killed someone because they happened to look like you, and Teyvat thought this person was lying about being their god. They'll all make it up to you, just please look their way again.

#genshin fanfic #cult au #sagau #creator!reader #sagau lore #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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steveandbuckysdaughter · 4 months

Text

Personal review regarding what if…? season 2 episode 8 (spoilers)

No ok, I must admit, the episode was good in some aspects.

Wanda was majestic. Loki and Scott were hilarious and I loved every single moment with them.

Thor was amazing, dark and serious out of loss but still enjoyable, and the crumbs of his relationship with Hela were very nice.

I’ve actually liked Tony for the very first time in my life, probably because I tend to like him a lot more in AUs and fanfictions than I do in the normal timeline.

And then… there were those two.

I will never comprehend why marvel wants Steve to be so dependent on Peggy. And I will never comprehend why, to make him interact with her, they have to destroy or sideline every other relationship he has built, or make his character flat.

Bucky being friends with Scott was amazing, but the fact that him and Steve interacted like two times was extremely disappointing. You’d expect “best friends in every universe”, if you dislike the romantic pairing so much, to acknowledge themselves for more than a few scenes, in only one of which they’re in frame together (Bucky was literally 😐 while his best friend disappeared, come on now).

And the storyline about Peggy coming from another world to save the universe was just… Mbah. It could’ve been executed in another way without including her and it still would have made sense. It really feels like a Y/N insert.

Seeing literally any other character was so good, so fun, and they had to ruin it this way, making Peggy once again the self insert and girlboss she didn’t need to be.

Plus, forgive my constant complaining, but it’s extremely infuriating how all of Steve’s friends were eliminated to put the focus solely on Peggy. Where’s Sam? Where’s Nat? Where’s Clint? It’s not an underrated friendship we’re talking about, a big chunk of the fandom loves the cap quartet or team cap, and after civil war it would have been nice to see them interact, especially after its popularity and popular demand. Outlaw team cap would have been glorious, a good chance to bring back many characters who aren’t here anymore in the right way, and involve characters that are rarely involved in What if in the storyline, for a change.

The treatment of Sam in this series particularly angers me, and even more so in this episode. I understand not involving him in other storylines, but Sam was a big part of CATWS and he wasn’t even in the episode centered on that film. What, because Steve met him while running he can’t be introduced in any other way? And oh, there’s no excuse for this episode. If there was one episode they could have placed Sam in, it was this one. Sam was there in infinity war, where the mess happened, and he should have been with the other avengers in this one.

If marvel wanted to involve someone from another universe so bad, it should have been a Captain America Sam from another universe. Can you imagine the poetry of seeing Steve and Nat again after endgame? Can you imagine having closure with them both, and having fun in the process? It would have been so great.

Another great storyline without involving characters from other universes would have been one where Steve, who touched the time stone, accidentally brought everyone in the past, and he was the only one to remember it. And to go back and prevent everyone’s distraction, he had to recruit the avengers, who don’t know him and don’t trust him but that in the end become his friends and companions. It would have been so interesting to see the original avengers involved in something different from being some side characters or extras in the one woman show that seems to be What if, constantly centered around the same bland, one dimensional reimagined side character. Peggy’s blandness is so obvious in these episodes (aside for some random remarks that made me smile) that literally everyone who’s involved directly with her must be bland like her, otherwise risking to overshadow her.

I don’t think I was supposed to cringe and look away as much as I did during Steggy’s forced scenes, but I did. If they had to force Steggy and Peggy down our throats, at least they could have done something different from the same bland and boring storyline as always. I wouldn’t be as mad as I am now if Peggy and Steve’s relationship wasn’t as bland. I would have preferred an enemies to lovers type of twist or change, where Steve doesn’t trust Peggy and struggles with her because he sees in her a different version of the Peggy that died in that universe. But noooo, god forbid, let’s go with the same old song.

An episode five or ten minutes longer with a better, avengers-centric or Steve-centric storyline would have been much better than what we got.

And given that this was my most anticipated episode, I was very disappointed by it. I hope for the next seasons, if there’s other ones, Marvel will listen to the general complaint regarding Peggy and will give her a break. I don’t think any of the original avengers or relevant MCU characters made as much appearances as Peggy, and being a main focus in four episodes out of nine is ridiculous.

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littlelambscandyland · 13 days

Text

Four Versus One (Part One)

Platonic Yandere Rise Brothers x Fem!Reader

Warnings- Tv Self Awareness, Panic Attacks, Reader has siblings and a niece, Stalking (if you count watching someone thru a screen without their knowledge as stalking)

You lounged gingerly on the couch. Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles droning on as your niece starred in wonderment at the screen. You'd introduced her to the show as means to get her to stop making you watch (insert stupid show here). You told your sibling you'd watch over them the next few days as the birth of their second child happened. Today felt like it went on a bit longer. Tonight was the last night that your niece would be here.

You couldn't say you didn't have fun. The show you stopped watching years ago was now, apparently, coming out with new episodes and you and your niece hyper fixated on it hard. With all that said, however, you were glad to get your space back. Glad to have your own little bubble of childishness without the responsibility of another human.

Deciding it was a calm enough scene not to be missed, you got up to get a well needed snack.

Calling into your niece. "You want anything from the kitchen, chicken pop?"

She giggles at the odd, but well deserved nickname, and asks you for orange juice.

After pouring drinks and grabbing popcorn you made your way back to the living room. The scene had switched to Donatello's lab. They were making some sort of gun. Words like "portal" and "interdimensional travel" were being thrown around.

You wondered slightly as you laid the snacks out what this weapon had to do with anything. The episode didn't seem to call for it, but maybe you missed a more vital scene than you thought?

You thought a bit more as you watched the show how different it was from what you remembered. There were more fourth wall breaks and sometimes one of the turtles would randomly throw out compliments to the watcher.

Not that you minded the change. It was just different. Nice, but different.

~~~Time skip brought to you buy me writing this in my therapy waiting room~~~

You had successfully made the trade off of your niece, delivering her back into the hands of one of her parents. You'd cleaned up the house, and finally felt yourself relax.

You had turned the tv off for a little while. A part of your agreement with your niece to wait to watch the show again together. Obviously, that was a lie. You had turned the tv back on after cleaning. Ordering a pizza and deciding to have a "me night".

There was something you noticed when you turned it back on though. The fourth wall breaks and the compliments happen more often. The plot seemed thrown out the window and everything seemed almost more mature than before.

Because of all of this you made the executive decision to Google it. It'd been a while since you'd been a part of the fandom so you figured it'd be quicker just to get straight to the point.

You felt your heart drop from what you read. Confusion and honest panic grew in its place. There were only two seasons. That was impossible. There were obviously more. What had you been watching?

"Uh ohhhhhh," You heard Leonardo's voice drone. "Hey guys, I thinks she's figured it out!" He calls his brothers.

Your eyes wide as the character seems to stare into your soul. The others gather into the screen. A mixture of smiles and anxiety are what stared back with animated eyes.

"I see. So she did... Ahem. Greetings, Darling!" Donatello says, clearly staving off his own anxiety.

"Hi..." You answer. You hoped this was a dream. Fear wrapped up into a ball in your gut. A feeling telling you to cut off the tv, to run far away and not look back ever again.

"Awww! She's so cute! Look at her eyes, they're so pretty!" Michaelangelo exclaims happily.

"We know dude. You're so cute doll. Really you are." Raphael addresses you with a nervous smile.

You look down in panic. The only logical thought is you had lost your mind. This is a dream, or you've snapped and this was a hallucination.

"What is happening?" You pant out. "This isn't happening. This cannot be happening..." Your breath ragged, and your voice hoarse. Tears gathering in your eyes.

They're faces shift in remorse and panic. Four animated eyes looking guiltily at you with frowns. Grimaces held by all as your body flies into a panic attack.

"Oh no, no. Don't cry, it's ok cariño. You're ok..." Leonardo coos at you in an attempt to calm you.

The others gather in on the "comfort". They're words prove worthless as you spiral further.

Finally gathering the courage you throw your phone at the tv in a frenzy. Perhaps not the best choice as the momentum and pressure crack your tv. Fizzles heard from inside the machine can be heard as the broken screen cuts off.

Sad for you, your nightmare doesn't end there.

#age regression #age regressor #little space #forced agere #yandere agere #platonic yandere rottmnt #Platonic rottmnt x reader #platonic donatello x reader agere #platonic michaelangelo x reader agere #platonic leonardo x reader agere #platonic raphael x reader agere

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kynimdraws · 16 days

Text

INFO POST

Name: Kylee (they/them). 30+

A totally normal Korean American mostly known for my drawings, specifically my Pokemon nuzlocke comics. But I will talk about other things on occasion because I do have periods of being fixated on certain topics. I also am a doctor!

Interests: Pokemon, League of Legends (everything except the game lmao), Fire Emblem, Advance Wars, Animal Crossing, Mother series, Korean history/culture, character design

General FYIs:

General inquiries/commission work/etc should be sent thru kynimdraws [at] gmail [dot] com! Tumblr messaging/asks/etc is not 100% reliable

I will not follow NSFW accounts but I am fine talking/interacting with them. There may be suggestive shitposting but I like keeping my content on the SFW side

I am VERY picky about who I follow/interact with online. Fandom content in particular is a minefield for me aka I have many things I dislike and don’t want to see, even if it might be a popular thing in media that I otherwise enjoy. Therefore, I will unfollow/block/mute liberally. There are times I accidentally block a blog bc I mistake them for bots. So if you got hit with that, just send me an ask or email me

I am very open about what I like and dislike, and none of those things are a direct attack on your sensibilities. I have never gone out of my way to directly send hate or whatever have you if I end up seeing shit I don’t like. My complaints in my little online space ain't a personal attack on you.

My ask/submission box/DMs are open for criticisms if you have any issues you want to resolve in private. No one is perfect and I may have done ignorant shit that needs to be pointed out. I have deleted or edited posts in the past if people tell me what I did wrong. PS I get that some of my stuff may upset you, but try to act civil when pointing shit out please.

I try to tag all my things whenever I can. Again, send me a message if anything bothers you. I am all for good debate but if you send me excessive hate or threats bc I have different opinions about matters that are trivial, I will block/delete them.

If you wish to use any of my hcs, please credit me. And if you are comfortable with it, send me the works so I can check them out! Or @ me if that is easier.

---

FIRE EMBLEM FYI: Specifically for 3Houses/3Hopes because I need a separate one for this franchise specificially given how many crazy things I got due to being involved in this fanbase via my fanworks:

DO NOT try to convince me to like or tolerate Byleth/student ships, ESPECIALLY the ones with the lords (aka CIaude, Dimitri, EdeIgard). I already summarized why I don’t like FE3H Byleth ships with student chars here. While the spinoff game FEW3H has now removed that teacher/student problematic situation, the fandom keeps putting the FE3H elements into the FEW3H fanworks (i.e. remembering Byleth from “another life” trope)...so no thanks!! DO NOT SHOW ME IT!!!

As for the Byleth ships with faculty members, my response is here so don’t try to bait me about that topic either thanks.

I do not care whom you ingame S-support. 3Houses limits the dating-sim part of the game to that character, so I cannot care less about how you play the game. The main issue I have is when people treat Byleth the “character” as a legit ship material when I personally think they are a cool character ruined by fans who are too obsessed with badly executed self insert otome tropes bc they self-project super hard onto them. Just to be clear, any FE3H or FEW3H OC/Canon >>>>>>Byleth ships personally. Even Byleth-sonas that remove the teacher/student aspects are better than canon FE3H!Byleth

Please don't drag FE VA statements as some sort of “gotcha” on my opinions like this post here. IDC what other people prefer with ship shit, that’s their problem and not mine. I am not gonna bother them about it. So don’t bother ME about it.

---

Links to check out:

Myths of Unova + Episode Grey (Pkmn White/White2 Comic)

Tales of Sinnoh (Pkmn Diamond Comic)

Art Site (Portfolio)

Twitter

Instagram

#psa post #pinned info post lol #updating this for myself and also to use the “do not reblog” feature from the get-go this way

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kaurwreck · 2 months

Note

do you have any general headcanons about bsd that you're fond of? sort of alternatively, any interesting tidbits about the irl authors to share? your blog has taught me a lot, maybe even a bit against my will 💀 irl authors were so funny ANYWAY ty so much for oversharing because i enjoy it a lot!!

I've been chewing on how to answer this because I have so many headcanons I'm so fond of, but it felt too self-indulgent to pour headcanons on you when I could offer facts as an alternative.

I post what I learn because it excites me, but also because I think it's wrong to have the resources I do without striving to share them. Since I haven't been writing fic like I used to, analyses and factual deep cuts are also all I have to offer the community in return for the joy this media brings me. It's not what everyone always wants, but it's the only other way I know how to engage.

That said, at least this time, I'm going to share several of my headcanons (some of which are theories) instead. But, so that I'm not completely wasting anyone's time, I'll also include one (1) Akutagawa fact at the end, if only because I think it's devastating 🧡

the Executives

Chuuya and Verlaine have a monthly standing appointment with each other to smoke and drink Bordeaux and wax poetic in French in Verlaine's depression hovel. It's a pretense for Verlaine to tell Chuuya about Rimbaud, and for Chuuya to listen and remember so that he can be the edifying stele Rimbaud's grave wasn't afforded.

It's also so they can vent, gush, and gossip.

Kouyou and Verlaine both want to dress Chuuya and bicker over it, especially ahead of formal events and special occasions. Chuuya and Verlaine are closer in taste, so Verlaine often prevails, but where Chuuya won't accept Verlaine's suggestions without inserting his own street urchin, delinquent flourishes, every so often he allows Kouyou to dress, accessorize, and accent him to her heart's desire (especially if she hasn't seen Kyouka in some time).

Chuuya does not, ever, listen to or humor Mori's wardrobe suggestions.

When the Executives convene for a meeting requiring conensus or a quorum, Mori places a maneki-neko in the seat reserved for Dazai as a proxy. (It used to be in Dazai's seat all of the time, but it was repeatedly vandalized, so now Mori otherwise stores it in his desk.)

Chuuya is a workaholic who's leisure is often occupied by engagement with interests relevant to his professional development; Kouyou maintains strict boundaries around her leisure time (namely spent on or to provide for Kyouka), and Mori is only not-working when he's spoiling Elise, although he usually works through that too.

As a result, Chuuya and Mori spend the most time together, and Chuuya is so used to co-working with Mori in Mori's office that he forgets it's not also his.

Chuuya maintains the Port Mafia's relationships with foreign syndicates, contacts, and illicit trading partners. This is for several reasons: he's a polyglot, and it furthers and maintains his other languages; Kouyou thinks it's good for him to practice diplomacy and negotiation; Mori is aware the organization prefers Chuuya as his heir and wants him well established with their business partners should Chuuya succeed him; Chuuya has friends in Europe he enjoys visiting when the role requires travel; and it deters malicious foreign interest in the Port of Yokohama since Chuuya reminds those who don't consider Japan a world power in the aftermath of the Great War that Yokohama is stewarded by a hot tempered guard dog who can control the most astronomically influential fundamental force theorized by physics.

Chuuya's half-mullet is a reference to both Verlaine's side ponytail and Kouyou's half-bangs.

Mori is asexual.

the Agency

The Agency office has a spare room that Fukuzawa has furnished and decorated to be a relaxing reprieve for mindful repose. The Zen room, colloquially. Dazai uses it to masturbate at work, Ranpo uses it as a spare pantry, Yosano has appropriately pointed out it should be a lactation room for accessibility and equity but uses it to read and write erotica when bored, Kunikida uses it for the nervous breakdowns he doesn't want the others to see (and to smoke), Kenji has never once needed it, Tanizaki and Naomi use it for unspeakable acts, Kyouka uses it for shikantaza as Fukuzawa intended, and Atsushi isn't aware it exists.

Atsushi isn't allowed to have prolonged screen time because Kunikida thinks he's too impressionable, which is why Kunikida won't let him have a smartphone or a tablet. He's going to be very annoyed when he learns that Ango allowed Atsushi to use his tablet unsupervised during the Hunting Dogs arc.

Atsushi doesn't know about bills, pensions, or investment portfolios because Kunikida is maintaining his for him without him noticing. (Kunikida intends to teach him about each and transition small responsibilities, but only once Atsushi turns 20.)

Kunikida also maintains Dazai's, or at least he tries. Dazai keeps finding the accounts and draining them on sake, gambling, elaborate attempts to tease others, and impulse purchases.

I do not think Dazai has any savings from the Port Mafia; I think he spent what he had during the two years he was in hiding, and that he's never been capable of resisting ridiculous purchases for elaborate machinations. Like, he once paid a man who took the same train as Kunikida every day to stand near Kunikida and sneeze without covering his mouth at the exact same time every day for almost a year. Then, on a day when Kunikida had several important meetings, Dazai asked the man to sneeze 37 seconds later than usual. It ruined Kunikida's entire day; he had to take paid time off to recover from the aftermath.

Yosano treats Kunikida like a little brother and nurtures and chides him. She doesn't baby him, though, because he responds best when he has high expectations to meet and because he externalizes his frustration in a way she genuinely doesn't have the patience to tolerate. This is to his benefit; it humbles him and keeps him from becoming too condemnatory and punitive.

Dazai and Yosano slept together when he first joined the Agency. They haven't since, but they have a mutual understanding that she can and does use (i) his self-flagellating, psychosexual attraction to her and (ii) his habit of objectifying competent, compassionate women as victims of his attraction to manipulate him for his self improvement and her sometimes sexual gratification. He's usually fine with it; she doesn't when he isn't.

They're also aware that they sometimes remind the other of Mori (well before they became aware of each other's pasts with him) so they maintain a level of emotional and physical distance to protect themselves and each other. Mostly, this distance is pre-calculated and mutually respectful. But sometimes it's not; sometimes, it's punitive and petty.

Yosano and Dazai have never explicitly negotiated any of the above, nor have they ever needed to. This is another way in which they remind each other of Mori, and so their synchronity ensures their distance.

Atsushi thinks Kyouka is under his care, but Kyouka and the rest of the Agency know that he's under hers.

Tanizaki's feigned harmlessness is to deflect attention and scrutiny, but it's also part of his 24/7 BDSM relationship with Naomi.

Dazai is the only stray cat Fukuzawa knows better than to smother, which is why Dazai may wander but will always slink his way home.

Atsushi's selectively acute perceptiveness into the hearts of others renders Dazai unusually vulnerable and bare in such a way that Dazai covets. But it's also why Dazai frets enough about Atsushi's perception of him that he changed clothes before seeking him out and tried to explain himself at the end of Dead Apple. That Atsushi didn't need him to is why Dazai wanted to; Atsushi engenders a drive in others to meet his faith in them energetically and with sincerity. He has no idea that he has this impact on others; which is why Lucy and Akutagawa also want to drown him.

There are enough spare dorms that Kyouka and Atsushi don't need to share; Fukuzawa, Ranpo, Yosano, Kunikida, and Dazai just all agreed that Atsushi and Kyouka would be happier and do better if maintained as a pair. And Dazai thought it would be funny to lie.

etc., Etc.

Kouyou speaks, acts, and dresses like an oiran in reference to irl!Kyouka's favorite and most consistent character archetype. Non-coincidentally, irl!Kyouka's preference for writing seductive, powerful, maternal, victimized, narratively damned women characters was Oedipal in nature.

Dazai's skill, like Kyouka's, was transferred to him, which is why he's incapable of controlling it as effectively as other touch-based skill users like Hirotsu and Chuuya control theirs. Dazai's skill was transferred to him by Natsume and is a fragment of Natsume's own skill (his nine lives, so to speak).

Skills are shaped by and manifest in response to their users' intense and often unmet or insecure needs and desires. Much like any coping mechanism, they're constructs as deeply ingrained as personalities once formed.

Kyouka and Dazai's limited control over their abilities is a psychological barrier rather than a matter of in-universe physics.

Atsushi is the white tiger, Akutagawa is the azure dragon, Dazai is the black tortoise, and Chuuya is the vermillion bird. They're the four symbols, and they embody four of the five phases (while grappling with the fifth).

Natsume brought Dazai to Mori, and followed Dazai to Fukuzawa.

Ango, Kunikida, and Chuuya have a group chat to coordinate the keeping and care of Dazai, but Ango is habitually kicked and then begrudgingly allowed back in.

Agatha Christie directs the Order of the Clock Tower from where she's imprisoned in the Elizabeth Tower (nèe the Clock Tower, misnomer Big Ben). This is less a headcanon and more a substantiated theory— if you notice, the room Agatha Christie is always depicted as being inside in the manga has wood panels that are reminiscent of the oak paneled walls of the irl prison room in the irl Elizabeth Tower. The anime iteration more generally references elements of the Elizabeth Tower's Gothic Revival design in the room's symmetrical and ornate carved details, decorative moldings, arches, tracery, vaulted ceiling, heavy and curved and elaborately patterned furniture, etc., etc. Her skill being called And Then There Were None and her cold, calculating, sadistic personality also suggest she takes after Judge Wargrave, who was both the righteous condemner and among the righteously condemned.

As for your irl fact: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke's children did not call him dad; they called him Ryu-chan.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #armed detective agency #port mafia #bsd agatha #im a little baffled by the backhanded compliments in the ask but im choosing to cherry pick

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