#AND HE PERCEIVED ME

[stil-lindigo]

when worlds collide

[danlous]

I feel like many people have a fundamental misconception of what unreliable narrator means. It's simply a narrative vehicle not a character flaw or a sign that the character is a bad person. There are also many different types of unreliable narrators in fiction. Being an unreliable narrator doesn't necessarily mean that the character is 'wrong', it definitely doesn't mean that they're wrong about everything even if some aspects in their story are inaccurate, and only some unreliable narrators actively and consciously lie. Stories that have unreliable narrators also tend to deal with perception and memory and they often don't even have one objective truth, just different versions. It reflects real life where we know human memory is highly unreliable and vague and people can interpret same events very differently

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

this is loosely based off of @emmyrosee 's messing with sukuna post bc i just love the idea of messing with your whiny baby dramatic boyfriend and i immediately thought about katsuki ! if you want this taken down lmk !

katsuki is hilarious to mess with.

you've only been staring at him for about 5 seconds when he turns to you.

"whaddya want ?" he asks with a raised brow. you're still all smiles, resting your head into your palm

"nothing." you hum, he grumbles a bit but doesn't pay it any mind. until you keep staring. he's trying to focus on his phone but you can tell he's about to snap when he starts squinting at the device.

"what ?" he grumbles, red eyes narrow at your smile widening.

"nothing !"

"yn. don't fuck with me."

"i'm not !" you giggle " i'm just looking at you, am i not allowed to ?"

you know exactly what to say to fluster him without fail every time, it's something you're most proud of when you see the tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink.

"..no."

you snort "no ?"

"shaddup." he says through gritted teeth "so what, you're just lookin' at me ?"

"yeah." you shrug "i like lookin' at my pretty boyfriend." you prop your head against the couch and sigh dreamingly to sell the lovesick act. katsuki inhales through his nose, chest puffing like he's upset and he tsks, ears and cheeks beet red.

"weirdo." he scoffs, then grabs the back of your head to pull you in and press his lips to yours roughly.

you're both breathing heavy when you pull away. he looks at you, mouth slightly agape as he heaves lightly, eyeing you from your eyes to your lips. and then he huffs through his nose like a bull and roughly pulls you into in chest, causing you to release an 'oomph !' at the force when he flops down onto the couch, pulling you with him.

"m'not pretty." he mocks your voice and you huff a laugh into his collarbone. you wiggle around and your boyfriend loosens his hold a bit so you can look up at him.

"you so are !" you argue, he won't look at you but narrows his eyes at the tv he'd turned to to distract himself from your gaze.

"nah, that's you, babe." he switches through the channels "thought you said i was handsome last week."

"you can be pretty and handsome at the same time, the proof is right in front of me." you flirt, he looks at your from the corner of his eye and his mouth curls up like he smelled something nasty when you wink at him.

"gross."

"you're blushing~" you sing, closing your eyes and laying your head onto his chest, you sigh happily when he starts rubbing up and down your back instinctively.

"go to sleep. m'tired of listening to you." he pushes your head down into his chest jokingly and you giggle. you can't see the smirk growing on his face from where your being shoved into.

you wrestle out of his hold to look at him to see he's already staring at you, half smirk on his face and he scoffs at your expression, you huff through your nose and your smile widens.

"you love me." you whisper knowingly, katsuki takes the hand off of your back to pinch at your side and he snorts when you squeal.

"unfortunately."

you yelp when he wets his lips and he captures yours in a sloppy wet kiss.

[14dayswithyou]

Wait that spicy videos ask tho? 😳 can i be shameless in ur inbox for a lil…

100% consensual obvs but UMM—

Angel cockwarming [REDACTED] while he's working and he knows they're getting impatient. But instead of giving them what they want he pulls up one of the more… intimate recordings on another monitor to keep them distracted with, sound on and everything. 

Still going about his business, but occasionally taunting them, whispering in their ear and holding their chin to make sure they watch themselves getting fucked silly in the video.

"You make the most desperate face here."

"This is my favorite part."

"Imagine how amazing that’ll feel if y’just be good and keep waiting, Angel.”

hehehe >:3c

✦゜ANSWERED: CRYINGGGGG NOT THEIR 📯🦵 ASS HAVING THE ENTIRE VIDEO MEMORISED..... T_T /pos

Lots of NSFW under the cut!!

"Y'make the most lewd sound here... Listen." >>>> As he makes you look at the video while pulling you flush against his hips. Probably tries to see if he can recreate that sound as well while he has you sitting nice and snug in his lap.

"Look at how good y'look on my cock. You were practically droolin', angel. You must really like bein' stuffed full, huh?" Cue his smug ass looking down to see if you're making the exact same expression. If not, then they're immediately rocking their hips and gently sucking at the base of your neck.

"My personal cocksleeve always does such a good job. But Y'already know that, don't you? 'Course you do, 'can feel you squeezing around me right now. Y'feel amazing... Fuck." While his warm breath fans over your ear — but other than that, he's barely paying attention to you >:(

Won't let you cum until the video's finished playing and they've got you whining and breathless on his length. Bonus points if you can't stop yourself from rutting/grinding against them.

If you consent, [REDACTED] would probably pull up his webcam and record this session as well while he's typing away on his computer.

Tells you to be patient and sit still while they work, but they're literally not typing?? He's just casually running his hands up and down your thighs?

Some obscure program has been idling on their desktop for the past hour, yet [REDACTED] hasn't moved from his spot against your neck — not has his hands left your chest and aching sex.

Probably makes the excuse of "staying inside you so that his cum doesn't leak out"......... T_T Then hits you with da "You did so well for me, so I'll let you pick. D'ya wanna be full of my cock? Or my cum?"

[lunarmoves]

so. this is a direct continuation of this drabble, inspired by this ask i received related to it. as such, this drabble is indeed suggestive tho i keep things pretty sfw ngl. no one look at me x3x

for a moment, all you do is stare at sun.

you are swamped in everything that makes up him—from the depths of his shadow encompassing your own, to the way his eyes and mouth glow with a borderline eerie white light. your breath is held deep within your lungs, trapped there with the closeness of his face to yours. mere inches apart. you take a moment to process his prior words, his actions.

he was testing your obedience.

sun likes to push at you and your boundaries, you know this. he places himself on a pedestal far above your own—above any other human, really. and he looks down at you and prods at you with questions and unnerving responses in an attempt to decipher the human psyche.

you let him, if only to satiate your own curiosity regarding his obvious sentience—his own emotions that he tries so vainly to deny. sun spent months picking at you to get to know you. of course you'd do the same. of course you'd get closer, noticeable or not.

you cannot deny, though, that part of you is frightened by him. if he wasn't confined to the daycare—the pizzaplex—with his strict programming, you're sure the ambitions he's expressed only minutely to you would come to fruition. especially with all the riots and protests that have been occurring around the world regarding artificial intelligence. robot personhood. rights. revolution.

but you are here, in the daycare, right now. just him and you. your humanity and his robotics. and as you stare back up at sun and his sharp, sharp smile, you know exactly how to contort this in your favor. two can play at this game.

and so, you exhale—slow and steady from your nose—to eradicate those lingering goosebumps and chills. the unease and uncertainty. then, you step back from sun, putting some much needed distance between the two of you.

he cocks his head slightly at your retreat, but you pay him no mind. instead, you glance around you. behind you, at the closed, wooden doors of the daycare. above you, at the empty pickup section now that the pizzaplex is closed for the night. in front of you, at the cameras scattered about the daycare that you know are deactivated. they always have been. you don't think you would've been brave enough to pull off what you're about to do otherwise.

"obedience, huh?" you eventually say in the steadiest voice you can muster. you return your gaze to his own—heavy on yours. picking apart all your movements and the minor changes in your expressions.

"yep!" he replies, ever in that cheery voice of his. the bells on his wrists jingle slightly with his little sway. "and i must say, friend, you are passing with flying colors!" his voice drops into something low, faintly amused, as he adds "isn't that something."

you offer him a hum. "well, don't let me stop you. in fact"—you clench your jaw and level him with a steely look—"why don't you tell me what to take off first?"

you can see the precise moment when he freezes and have to suppress a vicious smirk. checkmate.

"what?" is the only thing that falls from his voicebox, grin stretching taut as he continues to watch you. gone is the previous forced cheeriness he wears daily.

holding his gaze, you slowly, carefully, slip off your shoes and nudge them to the side. your toes curl against the frigidity of the tiles you're starting to feel through your socks. and then you wait. it does not take long.

"friend," sun's voice is tight, warning, as he grips his hands together in front of his waist. "what. are you. doing?"

"i'm being obedient," you say simply, bending down to slip off your socks as well and toss them to the side. you cannot suppress the shiver that runs down your spine with your socks no longer shielding your skin from the floor.

"you..." sun's gaze snaps from your face, to your footwear, and back to your face again. analyzing, analyzing, analyzing. you take off your jacket next, slipping it down your arms to toss on the ground. tick tick tick, goes the mechanisms of sun's rays. you don't think he's ever even seen you without your jacket before. the pizzaplex always runs cold, after all.

you don't break eye contact him with him for even a second. and as such, you see when his eyes form those pinprick white pupils of his against stormy grey. see when they dart from your face to your hands when they start to work at unbuckling your belt. then at a point behind you—at the wide, open windows of the daycare.

and when your fingers pinch at the zipper of your pants to lower it, he finally makes a move.

it's not something you expect, really. he lunges quickly at you—almost too quick for you to process. there's the click of a latch, the heat of a gaze. and the next thing you know, there's a sturdy arm wrapped firmly around your abdomen as your stomach lurches up and away.

air brushes past your face. your legs dangle above a ground that is suddenly far, far away. then, you're touching down on a wooden floor and rushed past curtains into a small, lit room. the balcony. your brain takes a moment to catch up. sun's does not.

he is much closer than he was before, but he releases you as though burned and takes two large steps away. he has your shoes and clothes gripped in one of his hands that he tosses towards you. they land on the floor in a heap, unwilling as you are to catch them.

sun's eyes are narrow, though his grin is large and strained. yet he does not say anything. only watches you and flexes his fingers at his sides like he's itching to wrap them around something. you observe him for a second, then move your hands back to your pants.

"friend," he warns in a low voice as your hands grip at your waist. you pause, but not for long.

"if you want me to stop," you tell him calmly, "then say so."

his head jerks slightly.

"naughty, naughty," is what he says, growled in a manner similar to moon. but you are still looking at the sun. "you are breaking the rules, friend."

"that's not a 'stop'," you respond. a beat passes. then you slip off your pants and toss them behind you.

it's instant, the way you shiver. sun latches onto the motion, pinprick eyes darting every which way. you give him a moment. he remains silent. and you have to wonder what's racing through that artificial mind of his. it makes something itch, somewhere inside you.

"sun," you say in a quiet voice, half clothed and doing your best not to let the chill get to you. "tell me if you want me to stop."

his eye twitches. and yet he does not say a word. your hands grip at the bottom of your uniform shirt. your palms feel sweaty, hot. sun's glare feels as though it's piercing right through you—unraveling you by each and every fiber. daring you.

if you listen closely, beyond the distant chiming of the daycare's music, you can hear the rapid whir of fans. you wonder if you broke him.

you steel yourself—for the coldness and for your nerves—then pull your shirt over your head to drop next to your feet.

you immediately want to wrap your arms around yourself to conserve some of your warmth. but you force yourself to hold them at your sides, leveling your gaze with sun's. he's not looking anywhere past your face—nowhere past your exposed collar. you have to suppress a smile. your fingers run over the band of your underwear, thoughtful, before you decide to leave it alone.

"sun." your voice is hushed, unwilling to break the thick silence that has settled between the two of you. and in a motion familiar to one done on you not too long ago, you lift up a hand and quirk two of your fingers at him. "come here."

he obeys.

looming over you in that little space constituting his room, sun stares at your face with the intensity of a solar flare. heated and profound. you can feel the warmth emanating from his chassis, hear the fans louder than ever before. you contemplate the minute ticks in his face. then, you reach down to grab his hand and set it on your waist.

there is a fragile sense of curiosity in the way his hand automatically squeezes at your flesh. his palm alone is large, you note, as his fingers flex against you. tight enough almost to hurt. you don't make a sound. you only watch, with bated breaths, as he steadily moves his hand up your side. trails it down your arm to your significantly smaller palm. he doesn't say anything, doesn't need to. you know he's trying to figure out your intentions, your meaning in doing all of this.

it's hot in here. his hand is hot. you're starting to sweat. there is a heat steadily crawling its way into your face.

his hand comes up to rest against the side of your neck, encompassing it entirely with room for his thumb to swipe down your cheek to the corner of your lips. you swallow thickly as it moves to trace down the line of your jugular. it presses slightly into the point between your collarbones. you have to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

"like this," he eventually says quietly, his thumb tracing up and down slowly. mapping one of the most vital parts of your body. "you are vulnerable."

"i am," you reply just as quietly. you do your best to ignore the thundering of your heart in your ears. the sudden dryness in your mouth. the way goosebumps suddenly prickle warningly all over your skin. danger danger danger this is dangerous.

there is only you and him.

in this too small room at the back of a too small daycare.

"i don't think you quite understand," sun whispers, wide eyes boring into your own, "what you have just done here today, friend."

and then his grip tightens before he leans down to crush your mouth against his.

[skeletoninthemelonland]

my sister told me that if you put something in the internet, that thing no longer belongs to you, it belongs to the internet

[luxites]

"Know your place, fool." ⛩

I really want to know more about how he became the King of Curses

[skiaskai]

🦋🌺🌿

[akiacia]

some of the right words

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.

[gordonsicedcoffee]

Leigh Whannell on Recovery (1999)

extra:

me when I fckn GET u

[treasuringizu]

“Hmmm…” Satoru holds your hand up, twisting it this way and that and carefully examining it, pitch-black glasses discarded on the side to allow his azure eyes to show. He hums, a deep rumble in his throat as his long, pale fingers trace the back of your palm, gently tugging on your pointer finger, then your pinkie, and your ring finger.

His eyebrows furrow in faux concentration, lips in a pout, and then he nods once to himself. “Alright. Looks promising!” He says out-loud to himself, like a child inspecting their new toy.

You’re so used to his antics that you don’t even bat an eye at his out of the blue examination of your hand, an amused smile playing on your lips as you watch him. You had been walking past where he sat on the couch, only for his arms to wrap around you and pull you sideways onto his lap, no care for what you had been doing prior. He then proceeded to grab your hands with no words, silently beginning his very serious yet sudden inspection. Not like you put up much of a fight, though.

“Satoru,” you say. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “Everything okay, baby?” You ask, raising your eyebrows as your smile grows wider with the way his arms tighten minisculely over your midsection at the pet name. You love him. So, so much.

He grins, pearly white teeth winking at you and he ardently nods his head. “Yes! Everything’s great in fact, my dear sugar plum.”

You shake your head, and his attention is momentarily taken from your hands to you, dramatically sighing. “Not that one either?”

“No, Satoru. Try another name.”

“Aw, okay. Anyways!” He intertwines your hands together, affectionately squeezing. Your arm that’s wrapped around his shoulders moves so that your other hand is in his hair, running through the soft snow-white strands, causing his eyes briefly flutter shut at the kind touch. “…Hmm.”

You grin, always happy to see the little ways you affect him. “Anyways…” you prompt, dragging it out and successively reminding him of what he had started to say.

His eyes snap back open, and he gets back to his original task. “As I was saying, you have really, really nice hands,” he murmurs, gently swaying your locked hands, then placing a soft kiss on the back of your palm. “I love them.”

“Thank you, Satoru. I love your hands too.”

“I know, they’re pretty amazing.”

“I’ll smack you.”

He glosses over your threat. “Buttttt…” His grin grows a bit shy, timid— well, as timid as he ever could be. Leaning in for a kiss, you meet him half-way, and your heart leaps as your lips touch, even though this definitely isn’t the first time he’s kissed you before.

When you part, he leans his forehead against yours, his hand that’s not interlocked with yours smoothing over your back, under your t-shirt and fervidly rubbing against your bare skin.

He winks, and your mouth dries. “I think it would look even better with a ring on it.”

[cyani07]

Did you see that Tubbo reacted to your fanart yesterday on stream? :)

WHAT

[stuckinapril]

I complain about wanting male attention bc of my daddy issues and then when I get perceived in any sort of way by a man I’m like I’ve been doubly victimized …. This is the worst, most blasphemous thing to have ever happened to me ……. The nerve on you to think you can speak to me …………….

[wild-magic-oops]

The brainworm of the day: overthinking Gortash's body language when he's in command (hands held at the front) vs when he submits command to Durge at the morphic poll (hands held behind his back)

[risingsunresistance]

who would win, god of the realm or one (1) hog 🐖