#and if for whatever reason you've been able to for the most part be free of problematic behavior: congrats on being morally lucky.

[anantaru]

DAY 30 — hate sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — wriothesley, ayato, scaramouche, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, hate fucking, mild choking, they're assholes, exhibitionism, fingering, lots of teasing & they're meanies

𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY

"i don't, fuck— even know if i told you this," you whine out through a clenched jaw, your trembling frame luxuriating in the feeling of wriothesley's thick cock rubbing against your spongy spots as the spreading warmth of his body fuses inside of your own.

nevertheless, you continue your taunting— truthfully, there was nothing better other than uttering out words that you knew, would drive him absolutely crazy, "but i really fucking hate you."

amusement swiftly settles on the duke's face when he notices something happening in front of his eyes, in spite of himself, he can see it plain as day.

that your sweet, angel face, combined with those lewd sounds and your pain in the ass, as well as bratty attitude, would ultimately make him lose his mind beyond salivation— right now, his face reminded of someone who was on the brink of leaning into this, the thought of stepping your relationship up and breaking free of this, occasional hook up scene between two people clearly harboring distaste for each other.

yet, instead of melting into those hidden emotions, wriothesley then, leaves one hand to fall against the headboard before jerking his hips back into you, this time much harder and in attempt to conceal the fact that you've evidently turned him on with your attitude, fuck, he'd never get tired of hearing you.

"oh, don't worry sweetheart," wriothesley grins, your body trembling when you hear him, and as always, he senses how you shiver under his large weight, your chest rising and falling when he wraps one hand around your throat, lightly, while the other remained on the headboard to steady himself and to not suddenly suffocate you with his figure.

"the feeling is very mutual," he winks, the only thing that seemed appropriate to you personally in this situation, was to punch him, especially due to that stupid, handsome, dumb smirk on his face. (you didn't punch him)

"oh fuck you," you spat angrily before feeling how he softly draws his fingers into your throat, mesmerized when you swallow the assembled saliva down and make him sense your pulse underneath his palm, ugh, it's so hot— and you're impossibly sensitive, constantly fluttering your hole around his girth, always so cutely reactive and moaning when his cock twitches through your walls.

your mess of a body was shaking, quivering and jerking up when he teases you once more, proudly showcasing his strength on your throat while never stopping the aching drags of his erection that was making your face twist in pleasure.

𖧡 — AYATO

ayato thinks you owe him, in fact, he believes you owe him a lot more than you're currently giving him— aside from that, the most unfortunate fact was that he secretly liked having you close to him, pretending that it's a way of paying him back for whatever reason, more so share your sweet company and yes, of course, it's a bit of a predicament taking into consideration that he literally cannot stand your guts and neither can you force yourself to like his.

it's a bit embarrassing and you're barely being able to grasp on how much you you were capable to hate another person, yet the second you hear his voice, it's a horrible sound, one that you eagerly wanted to choke right out of him.

well, if only ayato wouldn't be so adapt with your body— remembering every part of you, didn't matter to him if it's been a week or a month, he remembers and targets the spots he knew had to be taken care of.

because the yashiro commissioner knows how to fuck you, please you and make you sob out uncontrollably— you have clearly had the opportunity to experience it yourself and even now, while pressed down against his work desk, with both legs tightly shut around his waist, you almost forget about all the deep-rooted hatred that was growing inside of your heart.

every dip and curve, his hand would find when he drags his cock through your walls with each whimper of his name littering across his ear shells, his sensitive tip repeatedly pushing in and out of your soaked walls that the constant pressure of penetration was making your head spin, your shaking frame twitching under him as he curves ever so wonderfully into your warm cunt.

it's too good, too delicious to pass up on when you forget all circumstances and focus on the hate induced thrusts of his pelvis rutting against yours— both minds being drunk of lust and that sensual taste of sex and euphoria lingering across the room, your pussy convulsing as his lips melt against your own, shushing all your worries.

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

"look at that," scaramouche grinned down on you, excited from head to toe, his ego downright overflowing when his tip pushes and presses into your warm, pulsing spots as he stares down on where your bodies connected.

his cock was slipping in an embarrassingly easy pace that it's quite shameful now that you think back on it, well, almost— at least scaramouche knew what places to target in order to make your spine curve and quiver when he leans his weight over your body to split your cunt a little better as he bucks backward, driving the intruding force of his length deeper with one hand steady on your shoulder.

you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a warm, passionate kiss before he sloppily groans into your mouth, his tongue lapping across your own when repeated thrusts power through the tight ring of your hole, his pelvis continuously kicking against you and forcing your spine to bend into his chest, "hah, i can barely move," he smirks, "you're too tight— embarrassing," he drawls, your walls fluttering as he leans his sweaty forehead over your own.

"seems like you missed me," scaramouche urges, hovering on top of you with a toothy smile, despite that leaning in for more, his fastened breathing close to your flustered cheeks as he grinds his cock deeper, finer and better— a small, little shade of pink manifesting across his face, everything about it was so sensual, so exposed.

without a doubt, whenever you would cross paths it would always end in the same story playing on repeat, almost like a broken record— and despite the fact that you weren't fond of him, or, scrap that, despite the fact that you hated him, a lot, you did like it, like him, kind of— most definitely when he fucks you like he hates you, because he does, but kisses you like you're in possession of the most delicious and softest lips.

or, digging a little deeper, when he, sometimes, wraps his arm around your waist when he accidentally falls asleep right beside you, hiding his fatigued face against your neck, leaning into your touch as he intertwines one hand with yours to stroke his thumb over your knuckles.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

it's a hard punch in your gut when alhaitham first stated that he didn't like you, nope, wasn't a fan of yours at all— and the way he phrased it infuriated you the most, it was so arrogant, detached and almost like he wanted you to know and feel bad.

it's not like you were forcing him to like you or anything, but the fact that he thought it was appropriate to tell you out of the blue while disregarding any negative emotions such confession could cause— to say it made you loathe him, detest his being with every vein in your body, was an understatement, truly.

but now, suddenly it's anomalous, like the first bite out of a warm home-made pastry you have never tried before.

then, a sudden wave of pleasure hits you, strong enough that you whimper when he first places both hands on your figure, when you find yourself pressed against a cold wall, a new sensation that was laced in thrill and excitement lusting up from deep inside, aflame and alive through your flesh like liquid fire in your veins.

your bodies were moving while concealed beneath the darkness with the scribe's hand long since stored under your panties and rubbing slow, precise circles on your clit— and the thought of doing something so sinful in the midst of the night, not to mention outside, was almost enough to turn you on entirely, drench his palm with your slick when the boiling heat inside of you changes its shape, manifesting into something exceptional.

"that— that doesn't change anything!" you argue, scowling as you lean your head against his chest, "you're still a snob."

"huh, what?" alhaitham huffs in between a relatively normal breathing, as if he didn't just fuck two fingers into your hole and was the single reason for your legs turning to jelly, wantonly destroying your stability, "i think you don't know what that word means," he mutters before rolling his eyes at you.

archons, you're so annoying, alhaitham could honestly tell you those exact words over and over again until he'd get a headache— and it fucks him up, you do, you never fail to irritate him but also make him intrigued. ugh, it fucks him up so dearly and you destroy his rational thoughts, he wanted to do nothing more other than distance himself from you if only you wouldn't be so damn addicting, and soft, or reactive when he prods one finger against your hole.

awakening at the touch, your desire for him flares anew as you buck your hips forward, driving his finger deeper, his digit spilling right into you when you greet him with a broken cry, your hips rolling and needful for more— alhaitham's eyes never averting their gaze from you, your hips searching and clinging on his body, a slight tremble reaching your spine when you hold your gaze on him, all now feeling in different way.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[fluentmoviequoter]

Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.

Warnings: angst to fluff, argument, friends to lovers, the timeline of Tim and Isabel's relationship is probably off but I needed to make everything fit

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: The first title I typed was "Yell at Me, Tell Me You Love Me, But Don't Push Me Away" and I'd just like to say (a very sarcastic) you're welcome for shortening it. (Unless you like the original, then I'm sorry.)

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You met Tim Bradford less than a week after he left the Army and quickly became one of his closest friends. Despite the secret kisses shared without thought, holding each other tightly for no reason, and falling asleep in each other’s arms, you continue to be just friends with Tim Bradford. Being part of his life for so long means you’ve seen more than most. You were at Tim and Isabel’s wedding, gave him a place to stay after the divorce, and you fell in love with him without even trying.

Since his divorce from Isabel, you’ve shared a few more thoughtless kisses, said “I love you” before ending phone calls, and slept in the same bed simply for comfort on more than one occasion. You know you need to stop, however, because Tim is still attached to Isabel, as far as you can tell. She calls occasionally, and he rushes to answer the phone, leaving you like an afterthought as the woman he truly loves becomes available again. You’re unwilling to be a rebound or a distraction while Tim works on his relationship with Isabel, but you can’t decide how to set a boundary you don’t want.

It's nearly midnight, and you can’t sleep with thoughts of Tim running through your head. As you consider the idea of simply giving him space, letting him know that you both have things you need to deal with before you can be his friend again, your phone rings. Tim’s name and face light up your dark room and life before you answer.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi. I- did I wake you up?” Tim asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

When Tim asks that question, you realize that the only thing you want from or for Tim is for him to be happy. Alone, in the dark, you acknowledge that the only way for him to be happy is if you are willing to move out of the way of what he really wants. If you step away and give him room to work out his feelings toward Isabel, maybe he can find what he wants and focus entirely on that.

Tim says your name, and you rush to say, “Yeah, I’m fine, just- just thinking.”

“You want me to come over?” he offers.

“No,” you answer quickly – too quickly. “It’s late, and I’m really fine. Are you?”

Tim sighs before answering, “I guess. Isabel called today to tell me she’s going back to rehab. She wants me to come by once a week, act as part of her support plan.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I enabled Isabel for so many years that I don’t know.”

“You’ll do the right thing, Tim. You always do.”

A memory of last week, when Tim kissed you during a walk on the beach, flashes through your mind. Was that the right thing?

“Or you have too much faith in me,” he argues.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you.”

“It’s your turn to pick dinner on Friday.”

You see an opening to pull back and tighten your grip on your phone as you ask, “Actually, can we skip this week? I’m swamped and don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’d hate to leave you waiting.”

Tim hesitates before agreeing, “Sure. Just let me know when you’re free. We can do whatever you want.”

“I will,” you reply softly. “I’m getting tired now, though, so goodnight, Tim. And good luck with Isabel and your decision.”

“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying I love you one last time, and as you set your phone down, actively pulling away from your best friend, you want to call him back and ask if you ever had a chance. Instead, you press your face into your pillow and force yourself to think about other things as you fall asleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit in bed and stare at your phone as your finger hovers over the star beside Tim’s contact. When you remove him from your favorites list, everything will begin to feel real. Just as you lower your finger, your phone buzzes with a text from Tim. Three simple words make your heart pound as you read them.

Call me, please.

You want more information before you decide to call him or not. Distancing yourself will be hard enough without Tim vying for your attention the entire time you pull away. Clicking the star so it disappears, you make the first step in separating your life from Tim Bradford’s.

“Please be the right choice,” you whisper, staring at his contact photo. “I just want you to be happy. Happier than I could make you.”

An hour later, your phone rings, and you send Tim to voicemail. If it is an emergency, he’ll leave a voicemail. With each unanswered call and text, the time between them lengthens. Maybe Tim has already realized you weren’t as important to him as you both seemed to think.

By the end of the first day not talking to Tim, you want to scream and cry simultaneously. It’s hard to lose a friend, but harder to lose the one person you love. Reminding yourself constantly that you’re doing it for Tim and his happiness, you don’t give yourself time to think about how much your decision and the distance are hurting you. You knew Tim would hurt for a while before finding his way back to Isabel, but you weren’t expecting to feel like a piece of your heart had been ripped out. That’s what you get for giving it to Tim without telling him, you suppose.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, someone knocks on your door as the sun rises over Los Angeles. You roll out of bed and pull a sweatshirt over your head before looking through the peephole. Tim stands on the other side of the door and speaks before you can think about pretending to be gone.

“I know you’re here,” Tim calls. “I don’t have a lot of time, just wanted to check on you before work.”

After you open the door, you look out at him and give him a closed-lip smile. He looks at you like he can see straight through you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

“We made a huge arrest last night and a couple of us are going out tonight to celebrate,” he says instead. “Do you want to come out with us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and-“

“Like what?”

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means.

“What’s got you so busy that you can’t even text me back?”

“I- I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim,” you say, opting to deflect rather than lie. “But congratulations on the arrest and have fun tonight.”

Tim’s jaw tightens as he nods. You watch as he walks away, wishing you could run after him. As you close your door, you decide that slowly pulling back will not work; if you want to give Tim room to find his way back to Isabel, you must leave him.

Pushing your fist against the closed door, you take a deep breath before walking through your place and gathering everything that reminds you of Tim. After placing it in a box, you shove it into your closet. Next, you turn off the notifications in your phone, so you won’t be tempted to answer when he calls or texts. The hurt of losing Tim worsens with each action as you pull yourself further away from him.

“Please be happy,” you beg as you close the door on your box of memories.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re grumpier than usual,” Nolan notices. “I mean- sorry,” he adds quickly.

“Timothy,” Angela calls. “A word?”

“No,” Tim replies.

“Bradford, now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he stands and walks to her desk. She gestures for him to sit, and while he should feel like a kid in the principal’s office, he feels more like a man being told his wife is divorcing him and having to maintain a brave face even as his heart shatters in his chest.

“What do you want, Lopez?” he asks. “No small talk.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying with you, Timothy. I want to know what’s up with you and why you’re taking it out on everyone here.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re making it our business by pushing your frustration, or whatever it is you’re dealing with, off onto us. Is it Isabel? I heard she’s back in rehab.”

“No,” Tim answers, scoffing as he leans back. “It’s not Isabel.”

“Is there any chance that part of you still cares about her, and even if you’re lying to me and yourself about it, Isabel still affects you?” Angela asks.

“No, Lopez. I can guarantee that this has nothing to do with Isabel. She asked me to visit her as part of her support plan and I told her I would think about it, but the ‘source of my frustration’ hasn’t even let me do that.”

“Timothy, just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help,” she offers quietly.

Tim stands as he replies, “You can’t. The only one who can help me with this is avoiding me.”

Angela’s brows furrow as she wonders who he could be referring to. Tim is adamant this isn’t about Isabel, but Angela can’t think of anyone else with this level of pull over him.

“Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk, Tim.”

“Will do,” he answers, though he and Angela know it’s a lie.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Isabel!” Tim calls, jogging to catch up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, hugging him quickly. “I thought you were going to call my sponsor with your decision.”

“I was, and I did. But I also wanted to let you know, in person, that I can’t be part of your support plan. At least, not right now, not after everything I did over the last few years.”

Isabel nods as she guesses, “You feel partially responsible and don’t want to risk letting me fall back into my old ways. I get it, Tim, but thanks for considering it.”

Tim nods, and Isabel can tell something is bothering him.

“You want to stay? Talk for a bit?” she asks.

“I can’t. I’ve got a work thing,” he replies. “Thank you, though, and good luck with everything. I’ll be back by when I have some time.”

“Tim,” Isabel interjects, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “I recognize that look. I only saw it once, and it didn’t turn out well for me. Whatever it is you want to say to whoever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t know how,” Tim admits.

“My take: if she’s important enough to affect you like this, you’ll find a way to let her know what you’re feeling.”

“What if she doesn’t care, Isabel?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Tim, but I can tell you that waiting too long doesn’t make things any easier… I have to go, I’ve got a group meeting, but, Tim, what’s worth the risk: saying something or keeping it quiet until it’s too late?”

Tim nods before he waves as Isabel turns toward another building. Tim texts Nolan that won't be at the celebratory gathering while he walks to his truck. He knows where he needs to go but doesn’t know how to deal with everything once he gets there. Hopefully, seeing you will give him the right words to say.

✯✯✯✯✯

You broke your heart trying to let Tim be happy and keep yourself from getting hurt in the fallout of losing him. Your house seems bare, every picture and memory of Tim tucked away in a failed attempt to keep your mind off him. A knock draws you out of your miserable reverie. Whoever it is knocks again when you leave it unanswered, the sound harsher and louder than the first time. 

“Coming!” you call.

You open the door without thinking and are surprised to see Tim standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he asks in response to your stunned silence.

Say no, your mind says, but your heart makes you step back and invite him inside again. Pushing him away the second time will be much worse, but you can’t seem to stay away from Tim.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim says.

He leans against your kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation you don’t want to give. The whole point of making room for him and Isabel to reconcile (like he wants) was for Tim to figure it out himself.

“Ready for what?” you ask defensively.

Tim shakes his head and scoffs as he tightens his arms over his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? After everything we’ve been through together, you really expect to avoid me without an explanation or question?”

“Everything we’ve been through?” you repeat incredulously. “We’re friends, Tim. Friends stop hanging out when one of them gets busy.”

“Oh, now we’re friends? Were we friends when you crawled into my bed three weeks ago, or when we were making out on the beach? Because that didn’t feel very friendly,” he snaps.

“No, we weren’t friends; I was just a woman who made a mistake,” you reply.

“Am I your friend or am I a mistake?” Tim demands. “Because you can’t seem to keep your story straight. It’s a simple question: why are you avoiding me?”

“If I’m such a bad friend, why does it matter, Tim?”

Tim pushes off the counter, stepping toward you. His jaw clenches, and his biceps flex as he raises his arms in question. You would kiss him any other time, but right now, you’re angry that he can’t just trust you are busy. Granted, it is a lie, but you don’t appreciate the accusation, which is likely your emotions talking.

“I’m not answering your question unless you answer mine,” he says.

“Then I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

Tim looks up at the ceiling before asking, “Why?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. If you think I’m a liar, just say it, Tim!”

“Well, you are the one keeping secrets.”

“So, what, you think I’m avoiding you? Then get out and let me!” you demand.

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not surrounded by friends, and I thought you were one of the few I had, but I can see now that I made a mistake.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry that your precious, perfect little world decided to turn you into this,” Tim seethes, looking into your eyes as he steps toward the door.

You move with him, chest to chest, as you yell, “And I’m sorry that you couldn’t figure out I love you enough to let you go back to Isabel!”

Tim falls silent, and your chest heaves with anger. You realize what you admitted, drop your gaze to Tim’s chest, and lick your lips before lowering your voice to speak again.

“Maybe I was stupid for chasing after you when I knew you weren’t interested, that your heart would always be with someone else. I thought that someday you’d realize that everything I’ve done over the last few years has been for you; I’ve been chasing you just to find out that I never had a chance.”

“I don’t want to go back to Isabel,” Tim says after a moment of tense silence. “I went to see her today to tell her that I couldn’t be there for her anymore. If I’ve been acting different, chasing after someone, it’s because I’m falling for you.”

“You don’t fall,” you argue quietly.

“You deserve better,” Tim adds. “I don’t remember what it’s like to share my life with someone who cares about me and wants the same thing.”

You nod and try to step back, but Tim moves with you. The couch is right behind you, and you have nowhere to go, so you look into Tim’s eyes.

“I am not in love with Isabel,” Tim repeats. “You really started avoiding me because you thought I was?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked instead of forcing me to start a yelling match for answers,” Tim replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile.

“I want you to be happy, Tim,” you explain. “And I thought that couldn’t happen if I was in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re exactly where I want you.”

“Where is that?” you ask, leaning toward Tim.

“Right in the middle of my life.”

You raise your arms over Tim’s shoulders, smiling as his hands meet your waist. Tim pushes you against the back of the couch as he kisses you. He moves a hand up to cradle your head as you move with him. This kiss differs from the others; there is a need for more, an apology, and love coursing through you and Tim. Tim pulls back, and you pant for air as he places his hands on either side of your hips and leans forward.

“Just talk to me next time, would you?” he requests.

“And miss out on this? No way,” you argue.

“Don’t seem so excited about getting to yell at me for so long.”

 “You’ve never kissed me like that before,” you say before you distract Tim by moving your hands to his chest.

“You’ve never told me you love me before today.”

“Sorry I had to avoid you for a while to confess it.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon, without the insults before.”

“I don’t know,” you muse. “Insults and yelling are kind of your thing.”

Tim cuts you off, kissing you again and tipping you over the back of the couch. You laugh as he catches himself and hovers over you.

“I love you too, even though you were too blind to see I felt the same,” Tim whispers.

[vbecker10]

Talk to Me (Part 4) - Final

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You and Loki hold each other tightly in your bed and one of you finally says those three little words you are both so desperate to hear.

Warnings: This is almost as close to the characters having sex as I've ever gotten... it's definitely not quite there but it's close lol what else... um, he's super cold and you're hot so a bit of temperature difference is used... I'm not sure what would need a warning honestly but let me know if I missed anything

A/N: Thanks @soubi001 for letting me bounce ideas off of you like always! Thanks @jiyascepter for reading the absolute grammatical nightmare of my rough draft! Also... I changed a whole lot of it after I sent it to you so there's that 🫣

Hope everyone enjoyed this series (which was supposed to be a oneshot) 💚

"Can I ask you something?" you say a few minutes later in a low voice.

"You can ask me anything," he promises.

You look at Loki's hand resting under yours in the dim light of your room and hope your question isn't too much to ask of him.

"I was wondering if you could shift to your Jotun form," you finally force out the words and you can feel his breathing become less steady instantly. "You don't have to," you add quickly realizing you had been right, it was too much, too soon. You hoped he might be at least open to the idea because of your talk but how could you have be so nieve? One little talk wasn't going to undo years and years of negative thoughts and trauma.

"I just thought... I might feel safer... not that you don't already make me feel less anxious but I thought maybe if you were in your Jotun form, your ice powers could counter my pyrokinesis quicker when someth- if something happens," you try to explain your reasoning but you feel as if you are rambling. "If I have another nightmare... I don't want to hurt you."

He remains quiet and you can't guage his reaction without being able to see him. "I'm sorry, I should've have asked," you shake your head at your own stupidity.

"No, I'm sorry. I just needed a moment," he says softly as he tries to force away the thoughts that surfaced the moment you mentioned his Jotun form. "I have never been anyone's safe place before and I don't want to ruin this for you. I will do whatever it is you need me to do."

"You've always been my safe place, I guess I never actually told you that before... I just kinda thought you had figured that out since you're person I always go to when I'm scared," you tell him honestly. His arm relaxes again while you gently squeeze his hand, you can feel his breathing becoming slower. "I can't explain why but you make me feel calm and protected, I think that was why I was able to fall sleep with you in the library when we first started talking," you close your eyes knowing some things are easier to say without looking at him. "I've never felt this secure with anyone before, it's almost like I don't have to be afraid if you're with me."

He remains silent and you worry he doesn't believe you or worse, you've stepped over the boundary of your friendship and made him uncomfortable with your honesty. Loki closes his eyes as well, listening to your softly spoken words. All he ever wanted was to make you feel safe, the way you had made him feel whenever you would free him from a nightmare.

You feel Loki take a deep breath and slowly begin to feel his skin cool against your warm palm. You open your eyes to look at your hands and see his turn a deep blue under yours. The blue travels gradually up his wrist and you can't help but watch it move further up his arm as he shifts into his Jotun form without a word.

"This is the most beautiful shade of blue," you say quietly as your fingers lightly trace the ridges that spiral around the back of his hand. He sighs contently at your touch and you move your fingers steadily higher, following the ridges up his wrist and forearm. You roll over in his arms, tracing the ridges until you reach where his skin is covered by his sleeves.

You look at Loki and smile but he closes his eyes quickly, turning his head as if he still feels the urge to hide from you. You touch his cheek gently, noticing the thin ridges there as well. He opens his eyes in response to your light touch, his gaze locking on yours. "I've never seen anyone with eyes that were so..." you search for the right word.

"Demonic," he offers and you frown.

"Mesmerizing," you tell him. You love Loki's blue eyes, they were truly stunning but there was something about his true eyes. The intense ruby coloring almost seems to glow in the semi-darkness of your room.

He smiles in response but you can tell he is forcing it, you can always tell unlike some of the others on the team. You suddenly lean towards him, kissing his cheek lightly where your fingers had been.

He looks at you in shock, his lips parted slightly as he blinks slowly. You bite your lip, chewing on it nervously as your mind races to process your action. You feel a blush creep across your checks and neck as your brain catches up, quickly you try to roll away from him but his arm holds you in place.

"Y/N," he tries to keep his voice calm, his heart beating rapidly from the unexpected kiss. He places his cool hand on your warm cheek, wishing you would kiss him again. He shifts towards you, removing the little bit of space that had existed until his lips are only inches from yours. His gaze drops to your lips then he looks into your eyes.

I love you, his heart screams but he holds the words back. You had accepted him, every bit of him, even the parts he wasn't yet able to accept himself. His heart argues with his mind, tell her you love her, it pleads.

You look into Loki's fiery red eyes, anxiety coursing through your body. You can see he wants to say something but you are afraid he will remind you that he is only your friend and nothing more. The moment between the kiss and now has only been seconds but it feels like an eternity. Your eyes fall from his and you feel as if you need to be free from his arms so you can hide yourself away. Again, Loki's arm remains around your body, preventing you from your escape.

You lift your eyes to meet his again and he says, "You have always told me I can talk to you about anything."

You nod as you try to brace yourself to be devastated. He sighs, you see worry and uncertainty in his eyes, whatever he is preparing himself to tell you is not something small. You wait anxiously as the seconds tick by until he finally speaks.

"I need you to know how much I cherish you and our friendship," he says and your heart sinks as you fear he will end any thoughts you had that you could ever be together.

"I do not want to ruin the closeness we have, you mean so much more to me than I ever thought possible but... I do not want to simply remain your friend," he says and you look at him, stunned by his words.

His thumb strokes your cheek gently and he gathers all the courage he can to continue. "I want to be so much more than your friend. I want to call you mine, I want to be yours and I want everyone to know it. I want to take you on dates and sleep with my arms around you like this every night," he says and your heart races as his lips come slowly closer. He pauses, trying to study your reaction, his nervousness eating away at him.

"Loki, I-" you try to find the words you need, the words you had told yourself you would never have a chance to say.

He clenches his jaw and he looks down as you struggle to answer, his own thoughts telling him that he shouldn't have listened to his heart. You had a hard enough day and night without him throwing his feelings into the mix.

"Loki," you say again and he looks up, you smile nervously. "I want all of that, too," you finally force the words free. "I want to be yours, I always have."

His red eyes light up and the smile you fell in love with spreads across his lips at your admission. In an instant, he presses his lips to yours and you feel it in your whole body. You kiss him back, your fingers on the back of his neck while his hand moves to your lower back, holding you to him. He pulls back far too soon to look at you, his wide smile still present.

"I love you," you hear the words leave your lips and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. You are unsure how the words slipped free, maybe it was the feeling of his lips against yours but it was too soon to admit you had such deep feelings for him. He had only just told you he wanted to date you, you had skipped too far ahead, you scold yourself.

He chuckles and removes your hand from your mouth. "I love you, too," he says, his heart finally feeling free.

"Do you mean it?" you ask in disbelief. "Please, don't say it if you don't mean it."

"Y/N, I have never and will never lie to you. I have loved you for months," he says honestly. He feels a wave of relief flood through him as he finally tells you what he had kept hidden. "I don't know when it happened," he smiles with a slight shrug. "When I look back now, I feel as if I have always loved you."

You can't stop the blush that creeps up your neck, filling you with warmth. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected to hear him say these words. You smile, "I know the exact moment I realized I was in love with you."

His icy fingers running up and down the exposed skin on your arm, causing you to shiver a bit and shift closer to him. "Tell me," he urges gently.

You giggle, remembering that afternoon three months ago as you do so often. "We were in the park, having lunch and it started pouring out of absolutely no where. I didn't have a jacket or even a sweater to hide under. We abandoned our food on the bench and you took my hand, leading me to the nearest place where we could find any shelter."

Loki chuckles as the memory of the day flashes into his mind, you weren't the only one who vividly remembered that afternoon. "The only dry place was the small overhang of the maintenance shed," he says as he pictures the spot.

You nod, "There was barely enough room for one of us under there. My back was against the wall of the building and you stood facing me, your back still getting rained on. You stayed so close to me, sheltering me from the worst of it. Your hair was dripping and your dress shirt was soaked through but you didn't seem to notice, you still stood between me and the storm. You were so protective of me, making sure I was okay."

The storm has raged for only ten minutes but the intensity was what caught everyone off guard. The wind picked up furiously as lightning struck the tall buildings near the park. Some people had speculated that the storm had been called by Thor since it wasn't in the weather forecast for the day but he denied it.

Loki smirks, "My first priority was of course your safety and making sure you were clear of the storm but there was another, less nobel reason I stayed so close to you."

"There was?" you ask, feeling a blush of warmth rising up your neck again. His cool fingers gently brush along your warm skin as he nods in response to your question.

In a low voice he says, "You were utterly drenched, your blouse sticking tightly to you. I can still picture how the dark gray fabric clung to your curves so perfectly. I spent our time waiting for the storm to pass fighting an overwhelming urge to touch you, to kiss you. If I'm being completely honest, I wanted to push you against the wall of that building and kiss you until the storm died down, perhaps not even stopping then."

"You should have," you tell him quickly. You had no idea that was what he was thinking while you waited together, you wish you had. You smile then add, "I just need to say this... you looked really sexy looming over me like that and now I guess it's cause that's what you were thinking about."

He runs his thumb lightly across your bottom lip and says, "I think we should start making up for lost time." You nod excitedly and he presses his lips to yours fiercely.

Loki rolls over quickly so you are on your back, his lips never leaving yours as he positions himself on top of you. One of your hands moves to his lower back, holding him firmly to your body and the fingers on your other hand tangle in his long black hair. You feel the temperature of his lips changing, his skin becoming warmer and you break away from the kiss.

Loki looks down at you, his blue eyes quickly filling with concern. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

You touch the pale skin on his cheek lightly and smile, "No."

"Are you sure?" he asks, fear quickly building in him from how suddenly you pulled away.

"Don't look so worried. I felt you shift and I wanted to tell you something," you try to calm him.

"What's that darling?" he tries to push away his worry.

"I need you to know that I don't care where you are from, Jotunheim or Asgard. It doesn't matter to me, it doesn't change how I feel about you. You are still exactly who you were before you let me see beyond your illusion. I understand why you would be more comfortable in your Asgardian form but I hope you can learn to feel just as comfortable without your illusion one day," you watch his fears fade away gradually. "I love you, every bit of you whether you are Jotun or Asgardian," you tell him and he smiles.

"Plus... I used to work with the X-Men, so you're not even close to being the first blue person I've ever met," you add, hoping to make him laugh a little since he seemed so stressed moments ago. "A surprising number of mutants are blue, I'm not sure if you knew that. But of all the blue people I know, you are by far my favorite. And the best looking, might I add."

He lets out a loud laugh, his forehead resting on the bed next to your shoulder. "I'm serious, you are really hot when you're blue. I mean you're also really hot when you're not, too," you giggle at the feeling of Loki shaking from laughter while he is on top of you.

After he calms his laughter, he shakes his head and looks at you, "What am I going to do with you?"

You smile up at him and shrug innocently. "Love me?" you suggest.

"I already do," he says. "Very," he kisses your cheek, "much," he kisses your other cheek.

"You could keep kissing me?" you ask with another hopeful suggestion.

He smirks then kisses your lips softly, then your nose causing you to giggle more then your forehead lightly. He looks into your eyes as they slowly shift to be ruby red again. You reach up and cup his cheek as his skin cools once more. "Is this okay?" he asks as he continues to slowly let his illusion fade away.

"Its perfect," you answer, the same as you had when he first held you. "You're perfect."

His skin loses its warmth as the blue spreads up his neck to his face and down to his arms. You move your hand to the back of his neck and pull him towards you, your lips meeting his roughly. He presses you into the mattress, his hips grind down against yours, causing you to moan quietly.

Loki's lips leave yours and you let out a small whine in protest making him chuckle. "I'm not nearly finished with you my love, don't you worry," he assures you. He kisses your neck, just below your ear and you feel a shiver run down your body as his icy lips travel down your warm skin.

"Loki," you breathe out his name when his lips reach your collarbone.

Loki pulls his lips away from you to look over at your nightstand, your eyes follow his gaze. You giggle when he looks back at you, "A little mood lighting?" he asks, his smirk returning.

You blush and shrug, realizing you had lit the three small candles you keep near your bed for practice.

"Let's make sure you don't set anything else on fire tonight, hmm?" he says gently.

"I can't make any promises," you tell him in a joking manner.

His fingers move to your cheek and you feel a chill as he calls his ice powers forward. He trails his icy fingers slowly down your cheek to your neck and where he had left off on your collarbone. You shiver at the sensation, closing your eyes as you arch into his touch.

"No more fires," he says slowly, the breath from each word feels like ice against the warm skin on your neck.

You nod and he smiles, "Good girl." You bite your lip, blushing at the small bit of praise and Loki immediately notices. "Hmm, I will need to remember that for later," he says with a raised eyebrow.

You wave your hand gently towards the candles, extinguishing the flames then place your warm hand on his cheek. Pulling him towards you again, you kiss him fiercely, your heated lips meeting his cool lips. Loki's tongue slips between your teeth and your hands move down his back to the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tighter as his hips press you firmly into the mattress.

Loki sits up, his eyes still focused on yours as he pulls his shirt off over his head. Before he can lower himself onto you again, your eyes roam up and down his body and you whisper, "Wow."

He laughs and asks, "Is that a good wow or bad?"

You smile, "Very, very good." Then without thinking you add, "I didn't think it was possible but you are even hotter than I had imagined."

He tilts his head and smirks, "My dear, have you pictured me without my clothes on before?" You blush easily again and say nothing. He leans back down, his lips barely in an inch from yours and says, "Talk to me, I want to hear what you imagined."

You keep eye contact and say, "Sometimes when I can't sleep I think about being with you in my bed..." you pause.

"Is that all?" he asks, knowing there is more you haven't told him.

"No," you try not to giggle.

"Tell me all of it," he says, his fingers running an icy path down your arm.

"I also think about us being in your bed-" you say as Loki's hips move against yours. He lifts them slowly and you continue, "and in my shower-" again he moves his hips as you talk and you can feel how hard he is. "I want you on your couch-" you keep listing locations and he kisses your neck, biting it lightly. "And in my office..." your voice trails off when his lips move back to yours.

You cling to his back, feeling the ridges that spiral up and down his skin. You pull away from Loki's lips and trail your warm fingers deliberately down two long ridges. "How far down to these go? Are they... everywhere?"

He smirks, "You're about to find out."

You open your eyes slowly the next morning and smile when you realize Loki is still with you. He is resting on his back while you lay on his bare chest, his arms tightly around you. Your fingers slowly trace the ridges that run across his body and he chuckles when you accidentally tickle him.

"Good morning my love," he says in a sleepy voice.

You sit up and kiss his cheek, his red eyes meeting yours before you lay your head back on his chest. "I was worried last night was just an absolutely perfect dream," you say softly.

His fingers run gently up and down your back. "It was very real," he assures you. "You're mine and I am yours," he says and your body fills with warmth.

You move so you can kiss his lips softly and remind him, "I love you."

He holds the back of your neck gently and brings your lips back to his so he can kiss you longer. He smiles and says, "Tell me that again."

You giggle, "I love you."

He kisses your cheek as he sits up, "Tell me again."

"I love you, Loki," you say.

He rolls you onto your back and kisses your neck, just below your ear then he moves slowly down. "Again," he says when he pauses.

You look up at him, touching his cheek gently, "I love you."

"I will never tire of hearing those words leave your soft lips," he says from above you. "I love you, Y/N," you smile just before he presses his lips to yours once more.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princessdragon23 @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @superficialdomina @irishhappiness @princess-ofthe-pages @lotrefcp @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest

[unfortunatebrainfarts]

Cussing out anyone and everyone is fun until you get lasso'd out of bed to do it on behalf of your casual space cowboy co-worker who for some reason knows where you live

Boothill x f!reader

A/n: soort of part 2 to my previous work but can be read seperately‼️

"For the last time — let me go before I literally unscrew your dick off."

"Psh, as if ya got the balls for that lil' missy."

You don't even have to look at Boothill to know he was immensely enjoying himself right now — hell you couldn't even if you wanted to since you were currently getting dragged through the ice cold floors of wherever the hell you were, with a fucking lasso firmly binding your legs and arms.

"It's like 5 a.m. in the morning, what the hell could you even want at this god forsaken hour?!" You righteously grumble, but alas, you were met with nothing more than silence probably because you've asked similar questions before. Yes. This has happened before. Many times before.

For Boothill, tracking down enemies and pinning them down was great. Not being able to curse them out and instead calling them a 'cutie' and blessing their soul? Not so great. But that's where you come in! His lovely fellow galaxy ranger who's been with him long enough to know what he wants to say, and is far too weak(compared to this baby shark looking freak of a cyborg) to refute him. Physically that is — you always make sure that you complain his ear off to at least ensure some sort of mental damage.

"Hey! If you're going to take me somewhere could you at least not drag me all the way there? Ugh these floors are so cold I feel like I'm gonna get hypothermia. If I do and I sue you, don't you have to pay me compensation for that? I'm expecting at least a million credits or so cause I don't think Lan provides health insurance for the galaxy rangers—"

Your pitiable monologue was abrubtly cut short by Boothill firmly gripping the rope which binded you and roughly jerking it upwards so that your body would fall limp directly on his shoulder like a giant worm, your head just centimeters away from his.

Of course to which you responded with automatic aggressive squirming and wiggling only making you look more and more like a worm. But honestly who could blame you? I mean, who just DOES THAT and expects the other party to be calmly subdued?!

"Oh sugar honey iced tea, could ya quit strugglin' for just one moment—" A large, metalic hand was promptly placed around your waist and no amount of wiggling could even get it to so much as budge. "Now that y'r off the darn floor ain'it 'bout time ya shut yer trap? Heh... we're almost there."

Now that you were head to head with Boothill, although not in the most favorable position, you could see his face now — his face with probably the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on it. His sharp teeth making themselves apparent, and unwavering eyes focused on just whatever lied ahead.

And then his feet stood still.

"THERE," he shouted unrestraintedly like a madman, while pointing his free hand at... a random lady in purple?

Without warning, Boothill launched himself forward stopping only inches away from the woman who looked just as confused as you.

"Now, go tell 'er that she's a wonderful ray of sunshine that deserves absoloutely nothin' but the best. Oh Acheron, bless your soul ya lovely imposter, be prepared to go on a playdate and have some teatime with me soon! Until then, you should keep yourself safe."

The sheer passion that Boothill had in his tone made it clear that he had a message to get across. Though you don't think the other woman, or supposedly Acheron, understood a word he said. You exasperatedly sigh, you felt just as bad for this lady as you did for you yourself.

"Well?! What'cha waitin' for," the arm around you tightened just enough for a squeak to involuntarily come out of you and you knew you weren't getting out of this.

You mentally apologise for this poor lady before translating his thoughts into words, "Er... what he means to say is uhm, 'you're a disgusting piece of shit who deserves to die seven times over by my hand. Oh Acheron, you absoloute dumbass fucking imposter, be prepared to meet me and face me off in a showdown soon, but you might as well just kill yourself before that."

"...," Acheron's face remained unchanging and blank throughout the whole spiel, Boothill's however, was characteristicly smug and maniacal.

To others, the three of you looked as if you were frozen in time for at least a minute or so, until Acheron simply tilted her head and monotonously responded,

"Sorry, who are you?"

[simtanico]

Ellie Williams (inspired by The Last of Us) for The Sims 3

Teen | Brave, Loner, Artistic, Animal Lover

Behold: my pride and joy. You could say that this character is the reason I started creating CC in earnest. Now it's been almost 10 years since I first saved a version of her in CAS and here she finally is! A whole depressing heart-wrenching sequel to her story and a live action adaptation has come out since then!

So maybe this is the opportunity to give her the fun-filled tragedy-less life she deserves?????? Perhaps???????

If you're up for it, Ellie comes with brand new CC including her hair, Fall Hoodie, Summer Top and an edit of the Diesel High Kee jeans I recently released and a soft-launched slider that is soooooooo niche that I don't think merits its own post. You can find it at my sliders page and in the download. :)

And her being a sim of mine, she has a LOT of CC requirements and uses a ton of sliders. You've been warned!!!

The rest of the details below!

The List (and credits):

Skin: @kurasoberina Primer Skin HD+ (Default) with @chinsims Extra Tones [She will probably do well with another skin, as most of her features are slider and makeup reliant.]

Eyebrows: @simmillercc Low Full Tweezed brows from the EA Female Eyebrow Overhaul (Non-Default) collection (MTS archive.org link, current Patreon link does not have the non-default version of the eyebrows, afaik)

Face Details: Gosik Subtle Freckles v2 // v3 // v5 | @pralinesims Delicate Freckles for the Nose // Delicate Freckles for the Cheek

Makeup:

NOTE: ALL MAKEUP THAT WASN'T ORIGINALLY ENABLED FOR TEENS WAS MADE SO. This tutorial covers how to do that with s3pe.

Eyeshadow: 1. Base Game Eyeshadow (w/ lavsm's default replacement alpha fixes) 2. mochi029 inner eyelid make06 [reuploaded by @hyperkaos] 3. @sk-sims Natural Eyebag 4. Ephemera E121228eyeshadow [hosted by me here]

Eyeliner: 1. @sclub-privee Eyelash 3NA 2. Eyelid 2 by me [included in download] 3. Base Game Top Eyeliner

Blush: 1. @gramssims Contour 2 and Contour 5 [Link inactive. Click here for official archive link.] 2. mochi029 plainMakeSet A 3. Tifa Shading Line Blush // Nose Mask V2 [creator inactive, shared by @simdreams] 4. ModernLover Nosemask 5. @agnelid Bloodland Blush N1 Part 3

Lips: 11 IN3S Dry Lips [re-hosted by @villesims] | 2. Lip Definition III by me [included in download]

The Riding Pants in her athletic outfit (with the striped shirt) are by @sweetdevil-sims!

*** she does require a slider that I have not been able to find reuploaded anywhere, Ottershell's Chin Tallness. Link here. ***

For any other defaults and mods installed please visit my newly-updated resources page linked on my page!

Last thing: Feel free to change her up as you need. Simplify her slider usage, use her as a base, whatever. Just, please, do not claim you made her all on your own OR make money from reposting her or subsequent sims. I've spent years making her and worked very hard to compile all this. If you've made it this far, thank you!!!!!!!!!!

Download .sim and included CC (and leave a 💖): https://simfileshare.net/download/4512068/

Please tag me in any photos you might take!

She will also eventually be hosted on simblr.cc!

[anli-rambles]

Idk if the writers intended it or not but the amount of cognitive dissonance between what Haytham says and what he does is so telling of the kind of person he was raised to be. Birch succeeded in making him talk like a Templar, but his actions contradict pretty much everything Haytham claims to stand for. It's as if the brainwashing ran deep enough to make Haytham lack self-awareness but not enough to completely destroy what Edward was able to teach him before he died. Connor points it out verbatim right before they meet up with Washington too. "You've talked a great deal but you've shown me nothing."

Haytham says he wants order but he's just about as chaotic as his father was when he was younger. He says Connor's talks of "freedom" and "free will" are nonsense but literally every time we see him aside from the opening sequences, he's going off on his own, doing God-knows-what without telling any of the other Templars, he drops everything on the spot to go camping with his girlfriend, hell he even murdered a Templar Grandmaster for personal revenge (when revenge has been the driving force between many of the protagonists we've had so far like Ezio, Connor, Arno, Bayek, heck even Kassandra to some degree, while the Templars claim to be above this kind of stuff). He went against Lee's plans to have Connor executed because he felt like it. (The line in his journal is literally "I won't let my son die today.") He says he wants purpose and direction and yet never has a plan for whatever he's doing. He's exactly like Edward on that front, essentially bullshitting his way through everything and hoping it all works out (and it often doesn't). That man has never had purpose or direction in his entire life, and the moment someone tries to tell him what to do, he actively chooses to do the opposite because he doesn't follow orders (and if he does, it's on his own terms).

When Haytham realized he didn't hold the key to the Precursor site, he chose to drop it altogether, because he knew too many would have to die for the cause and it wasn't worth it. Do you mean to tell me people like Vidic, the Borgias, Germain, heck even Torres (who's by far the most reasonable Grandmaster we've encountered in the series besides François de la Serre, maybe) went to impossible lengths to get to the Observatory — do you think any of these men would've just... stopped ? Because more people would have to die ? (The answer is no. William Johnson was willing to commit mass murder just to buy the land the site was on — which by the way Haytham had no idea about (the mass murder part, I mean) until after the fact and he was very angry about it.)

Which is also pretty telling about how involved he is in all of this. He didn't know about what Johnson was planning because he couldn't even be bothered to hold yearly meetings for like 15 years.

In his journal, you can see how he progressively starts to despise every Templar he's working with. He endorses Lee out loud but his thoughts about the guy are that he's "too British to be a good representative for the American people" and he's actually pretty pessimistic about his chances to supplant Washington. He doesn't even believe in what he says about Lee, like, ever (which is why I say it really looks like he's endorsing Lee as an act of sabotage because it really feels like it sometimes.) His Templar kill count is also higher than Connor's — Juan Vedomir, the unnamed mercenary with a West Country accent, Edward Braddock, John Harrison, Reginald Birch, Benjamin Church and Nicholas Biddle (although the game never showed it, the fact that Church and Biddle died only days apart while both in the Caribbean means that Haytham was with Connor on the Aquila when he killed Biddle, so he's at least complicit in his murder.)

Haytham says he's a man with Templar ideals and an Assassin background but to me it feels like the opposite. He's a man with a Templar background and Assassin ideals, but the grooming started so young that even killing Birch couldn't undo the damage that man had done. I think Haytham realized that by the end and that's why he let Connor kill him.

[workingbynyx]

Words I Held Back — Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

× :: summary — satoru is gone and sukuna remains victorious while you had to stay on the sidelines, however, a note managed to find its way into your pocket– what could it be?

× :: pairing — gojo satoru x gn!reader

× :: genre — angst, oneshot

× :: warning (s) — some ooc and oos instances!

× :: a/n — aaaand we're back in the game after months of disappearing 😎 hey folks! i'm gonna have to start yall off with a recent hyperfixation of mine (aka jjk) about our glorious blue eyed king 🙏🏻 this is my first time writing some angst and about anime, so apologies in advance! i'm also sorry if this was pretty short :<

now that satoru was gone, you felt as if a big part of your soul was gone too. it didn't feel real, it didn't feel possible but sukuna managed to do the impossible. you were angry at yourself, you should've been there with him— everyone should've been. you were in complete shock, you wanted to blame yourself but there was no time to even mourn the loss of satoru gojo, you had to help shoko with other injured people that needed your assistance.

tears wouldn't stop falling down your cheeks, they all fell on their own thinking about him alone. you worked on patching up sorcerers although they couldn't help but notice how stained with tears your face was while you cleaned their wounds in a blank expression. you never bothered to wipe them on your own since new patients are coming in every second, you had to put them first before yourself.

eventually, you stood up to get yourself a nice cup of tea to calm your nerves. however, you felt a piece of paper in the depths of your pocket when you placed your hands in them. you carefully fished it out and noticed a something written in them. you gasped under your breath when you realized who it's from...

"y/n, it's satoru.

if you're seeing this then that probably means i'm in shinjuku right now~ i wrote this letter for you to read since i know how anxious you get in serious missions that involved special grades. i also wanted to write this letter because, well, i've been meaning to tell you something for a while now actually. these are the words i held back, y/n. i never had the guts to tell you in person so this is probably the only reasonable way of letting you know. you've always been the source of my motivation to keep going, you kept my world spinning even if it was slowly caving in towards me. you made me realize how much my worth is as a person... as my self, and i'd like to thank you for that.

right now, i'm fighting in that city for everyone. i wouldn't be able to forgive myself if i died on that field and leave you like that without any further explanation, i'm really sorry. but at least i died knowing i've fought and gave my all for the person i love earnestly. i remember when we were still first years and you've only then discovered your true cursed technique with me, you were so happy. i fell in love with you right there and then. i didn't think it would be possible for somebody like me to develop these feelings for you, i didn't want to admit it because i know i wasn't strong enough yet to protect you. i thought i needed to prove myself first to be worth of your love, but i realized that i already was even if i didn't. that was foolish of me, wasn't it? hahaha

i guess i was also scared, most of the people i loved are always harmed or endangered, so all i really wanted was to keep you safe in this cruel world, free from danger like me. love is the most twisted curse of them all, but here i am completely bewitched by you. whatever our fate may be, i only wish for your happiness to be found— even if it's not with me. you probably already know what i'm about to tell you but you always forget (dumbass !) sleep on time, eat on time and remember that you're the strongest.. second after me though of course :P

let's talk when i get back!

— g. s. "

you completely broke down by the end, sinking onto the floor on your knees as tears slowly stained the paper. your heart shattered into pieces like glass when everything finally caught up to you, why must the world be so cruel? nanami, haibara, suguru, and now satoru. one by one, everyone is being taken from you without any reason why other than beastly curses being bloodthirsty for murder and power. satoru deserved to live longer away from constant danger, he deserved the happiness that was ripped from him a long time ago.

the both of you could've lived a wonderful life together, but all of that was gone in a flash.

"satoru... i didn't k-know... i'm really sorry" you muttered under your breath, your nails digging into the skin of your thigh. your hands then came up towards your face in attempt to muffle your sobbing. shaking hands, silent cries and heavy tears falling, the folded letter abandoned in front of you as guilt slowly consumed you inside.

from that day on, gojo satoru was dead.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Astroglide; Articles; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; OFMD Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad popped out to send some love and support today!

Img Src: David Jenkins Twitter

= Taika Waititi =

Well, Taika broke the internet today with his Belvedere commercial. Directed and starred in it. Be sure to open a window because it is hot.

= Samba Schutte =

Samba has started up a new T Shirt campaign to benefit the charity @everymomcounts that helps to make pregnancy and childbirth, safe and equitable! You can either buy a #CrewForLife t-shirt, or sign up for one of his baking classes/meet and greets!

Our Merch Means Death on Stands

Delicious Chaos with Samba Schutte

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico starred in a short called Fire F*cking Fire and great news it's headed to the Tribeca Film Festival in June!

Img Src: Vico Ortiz IG

== Astroglide ==

Our besties over at @astroglideofficial put out a word search today with a few words/phrases you'll recognise!

Img Src: Astroglide Twitter

== Articles ==

Warner Bros. Stock Has Had a Rough Year. Why This Analyst Thinks It Will Get Even Worse.

Mark Indelicato Frustrated With Queer Shows Constantly Cancelled

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Our fabulous @melvisik has another cast card for us! Tonight's is another one of the bourgeousie that Frenchie and Olu manageed to include in their Pyramid Scheme! They are the one that Olu told to "Go Away"!

Img Src: @melvisik's Twitter

== Never Left Podcast ==

Next episode of the podcast Never Left is out! This one is Beautiful Princess Disorder Part 5!

Never Left Instagram

Never Left Linktr.ee

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

More colouring pages from the fantastic @patchworkpiratebear ! Visit their tumblr for more!

== Love Notes ==

Hey there Lovelies. Happy Taika Tuesday! Did you have a good day today?

Dad's comments today brought out a lot of folks sharing their stories on therapy and I wanted to chat about it for a moment.

First of all, if you're delving out for the first time (or trying again after years of not going)-- just know, you're being really brave. Depending on where you come from and your background, mental health may not have been something that your family prioritized (or maybe it was but therapy was never an option). It can be pretty scary to talk to someone you don't know about your inner most worries. You're taking a big step, and I'm proud of you for that.

You've looked at your situation, whatever tough things you're experiencing, and you've decided to prioritize you and your mental health-- and that's amazing. It's a hard decision to make sometimes, and as simple as it should be, it's not that easy. I'm so happy that mental health is talked about and therapy is so much more accepted now a days. Growing up I was in a situation where we "didn't talk about ourselves to other people" and that can be so very lonely when you are feeling really down.

I wanted to mention a couple things that I didn't know going into therapy-- in case they help at all, but obviously every experience is different, so feel free to take or leave the advice :)

Firstly, therapy doesn't solve things overnight. Sometimes it'll take weeks, or months, or years to unpack some of the things you really need to work through. It'll take time. When I went to therapy for the first time, for some reason I thought I'd just be able to dump all my problems out on a table and the therapist would pick one and we'd work on it. Instead it was a gradual thing, where they got to know me, I got to know them, and the more we talked the more we were able to unravel. I just don't want you to get discouraged if it takes longer than you planned, it's definitely a process.

Secondly, something to remember, is not all therapists are going to vibe with you. It took me a few tries before I found a therapist that really worked well with me. If you don't feel like it's helping, consider looking into a different therapist, sometimes it's not the therapy that you're struggling with, but just a mismatched vibe with your therapist. If you can help it-- don't give up right away, try another, I was really grateful that I did.

Thirdly, and if you're like me, this is a tough one. Remember to advocate for yourself. Sometimes a therapist may want to try certain therapies, or exercises, and it's something you've tried and just isn't working for you, or they want to go a medication route and you dont, or maybe they're saying something you disagree with. Remember you're your own advocate here, and they're here to help you, not hinder you from getting to where you want to be. Speak up for yourself if you can.

Lastly, therapy, especially the first few, don't always end in happy feelings. Think of it like a muscle in your leg that you haven't been using for years...and it's atrophied. You have to build that muscle back up, and it can really hurt occasionally during that time. You might leave therapy feeling worse once or twice because you're finally letting out some of that vitriol you've been holding onto for so long. It should feel better later.. maybe the next day, but it may not feel great the same day. That's a perfectly reasonable experience to have, and if you feel awesome, that is too!

Anyway lovelies, not sure if that helps, but I wanted to share it just in case it helped someone.

Whether you're going to therapy tomorrow, or soon, or ever, or never, I am really proud of you. You're doing what you need for you, and that's the most important thing. You deserve good things, and healthy thoughts and positive feelings. You really do. You got this <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is hats <3 Taika Gif Courtesy of the phenomenal @ofmd-ann, Darby gif Courtesy of the lovely @funforahermit

[moodymisty]

I always imagined Cross' eyes to be sensitive and get strained sometimes and when they do he'd turn into a teddy bear or smth he'd just want to cling to you and bury his face into your shoulder to keep the light away while so needy for cuddles or hugs and his squad is just like

🕴 that our Cross?? (bc before he met reader if his eyes got strained hed be the most grumpy gremlin his brothers have ever met)

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑���𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This is so cute!! I love the idea that Crosshair has eyes just as or close to as good as Hunter's thanks to his enhancements

Summary: Crosshair might be a loner but even he knows that sometimes tender loving care is what works best.

Relationships: Crosshair/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sensory overload, fluffy, Crosshair being a grumpy little shit that needs cuddles,

-Hey. You busy?

Looking over at your datapad you see a message from Hunter, before glancing back at your computer. Hunter knows damn well that you're always busy, it's more so a matter of if you're too busy to sneak away and do whatever he has in mind.

Well, your work is practically done, so you'll message back in a few minutes once you're free. Because you know damn well that once you start with them, you'll be roped into whatever mess is currently happening. Before you have a chance to finish however, Hunter gives some much needed context to his earlier message. Not too much, however.

-Come here and help deal with Crosshair.

Since when did you become the resident sniper tamer?

Though Hunter knows you well enough, as even though you don't respond, you quickly finish up what you've been working on before getting up. Their barracks are a good ways across the base so it's a decent walk, enough that you can send a quick message.

-On my way.

Part of you is curious what in the galaxy could warrant such am urgent sounding message from Hunter; Though you'd probably never be able to hazard a guess. Hunter doesn't respond, largely because he knows you'll be there the moment he does. Their barracks are a good ways out of the way, but the walk isn't that far. Tech has it timed, actually; In another odd random bit of knowledge he has stored away in the brain of his.

It seems this time you were particularly speedy, as he's a few seconds off when you arrive, the door opening. The moment you enter you can feel the tension, as everyone hovers around the center of the room. Hunter comes up to you, and you whisper:

"What happened?" Looking over to see Crosshair on his bunk, with everyone glancing his way, but attempting to be subtle about it. His hand is pressing against his eyes and forehead, hard enough that he surely can't see very well. Hunter fills you in with the only word that is necessary.

"Flashbang." Oh no.

You know Crosshair's eyes are incredibly sensitive much like Hunter's, which also makes him very sensitive to things like bright lights. The two of them are the main reason why they have the lights in all their barracks, and the Marauder, dimmed so low.

Tech is hovering close by, the closest that the Batch has for a medic keeping an eye on a fuming Crosshair. Wrecker comes closer to check and gets venom spit at him, before he presses his hand back onto his face.

While his brothers are concerned and wanting to help, hovering and asking constantly if he's ok are both things that don't work intermingled with someone like Crosshair. You know that he just wants pitch black, and silence that's just as deep as possible.

Sighing softly you step away from Hunter, walking over to his bunk. You don't say anything, just sit on the edge and gently put your hand on his shoulder. You've delt with this Crosshair before, so you have a decent idea of what helps and what doesn't.

Within a few minutes he pulls you closer to him, forcing you to lean back more until you're partly laying down. He wraps his arms around your body, as his face presses against the black of your shirt above your chest but below your shoulder; Wrecker groaning and walks by yelling:

"Hey! Keep it clean, we're still here!" Wrecker jokes, laughing loudly.

Crosshair's hand quickly darts out to get a piece of Wrecker, who deftly dodges it.

"Fuck off."

He feels your hand gently on the back of his head, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. His arms tighten around your ribs even more. His head is throbbing so much he doesn't care how he looks, or that what his brothers are saying isn't actually insulting. He'll just act like it is, and bite at them none the less. In a bit he'll be back to normal, but for now he'll indulge.

It's hard to believe that you've actually been a positive influence on his overall attitude, until you have times like this.

"Just leave him alone, Wrecker." Echo quietly speaks up from across the room, where he's cleaning dirt from the inner seams of his armor pieces.

You kind of wish you'd brought your datapad with you in hindsight, as now that Crosshair has you trapped, you have one hand completely empty as the other lays on the back of his head. It's also a little boring, just watching his brothers go about their individual work as quiet as possible.

A few months ago Crosshair would've never even considered doing anything remotely similar to this, but thankfully his edges have been buffed just the tiniest, tiniest little fraction.

You remember a long while back Crosshair had muttered that he didn't deserve you, and while you had vehemently denied the notion, he didn't seem to take it entirely to heart. You only hope these sorts of gestures help reassure him, relaxing with him as the thumping of his headache ever so slowly goes away.

Join the taglist here: @seriowan @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriter @lucyysthings @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations

[briarrolfe]

Recently, I was sent a job listing. It called for a graphic designer "to produce direct response static & video ads for various social media channels, such as Facebook, TikTok, Snapchat, and YouTube." So, even though it was asking for a graphic designer, it wasn't a graphic design job—it was an advertising/social media/videography job. The career I've dedicated eight years of my life to is the bit the ad referred to as 'static'.

Ever since, I've been thinking about this idea that video is the future, and also I have been (not coincidentally) extremely depressed. Not to be all "you kids and your phones," but...

In advertising, your consumer's attention is money. Video is THE most attention-demanding form of advertising and therefore the most bang for your buck. It's why Facebook fudged their own stats for the effectiveness of pivoting to video so aggressively in the first place. If your consumer is reading something—a magazine, a poster, a book, something on their phone—then they're still listening, and if something else demands their attention, they'll just look up. If they're listening—to somebody talking, to music, to a podcast—then their eyes and hands are free to do whatever they like. They can look at the world around them, which involves many forms of competing visual advertising.

Video is a media form that doesn't stop. It keeps talking when your consumer looks up, and then keeps moving to grab their visual attention again. The best method for advertising is one that a consumer has to exert energy to not pay attention to.

(—This is why I hate video so much as somebody with ADHD. When my dopamine and blood sugar are low, focusing past someone playing TikTok audio is hard enough for me that it hurts. I've never had the same problem with radio or with like... idk, billboards. And TV is kind of bad, but at least it makes predictable sounds, whereas every person who films a TikTok with sudden screams or yelling in it is, in my opinion, going to hell.)

This is why the UI for platforms like TikTok and Instagram have autoplay, algorithms that disappear things you've seen so quickly, no scrub bars, and don't have skip or pause buttons. Your consumer has to keep their phone in hand to keep swiping or scrolling to properly engage. If that consumer can't stop a video or go back, then the platform can train them not to look up until the video is over. Anxiety that a user will lose their place or not be able to keep up with what is happening is part of what keeps them from looking away.

This is also a reason to be suspicious of why so many tech companies are obsessed with VR in general. A phone that people have to hold and look at and listen to is pretty good, right? But they can ultimately still put it down when an ad plays. It would be way better if we could put the advertising somewhere that tracks and follows their eye movements so that they literally can't look away.

We all know that text is still a better, faster, and more information-dense delivery system. Sometimes I see people mourning the pivot to video because it's a worse way to consume information. They're right! It is! But social media platforms have NO INTEREST in providing their users with like, actual reliable information. If they did, then social media companies would have no interest in AI.

(—This is also why they have no interest in fighting misinformation on their services. People who get radicalised are very engaged platform users. And the people who radicalise them come with massive budgets for ad spend.)

All social media platforms want is to get consumers hooked on their content so that they'll continue to deliver ad revenue. Video is the best way of achieving that. That's why we're all pivoting to algorithms and video. That's why Tumblr Live exists and Snapchat miraculously has not died.

Anyway. I chose to become a graphic designer.

[bygone-visionary]

Hello, hello!

Just as I stated earlier, my name is Alzis Myers. I am a historian and an archaeologist, although I have not been able to do proper field work in some time. I primarily study Pokemon that were created by ancient civilizations, though that is far from the only thing I have worked on. (:

I am not a Pokemon trainer, but I do own two Pokemon.

Delphi, my Absol. She's simply a wonderful companion, and quite skilled at easing my anxieties... as well as being an ideal Pokemon to have around while I am working, for many reasons. She's wonderful, truly wonderful.

And... Atlas, my Sigilyph. The main inspiration behind my primary field of research. I caught it back during my first experiences with field work, back in university... Incredibly, incredibly odd.

It's much larger than the average Sigilyph, with a unique color variant, as well. It's been over half a decade since I caught it, and yet my knowledge on it is lacking... I suppose that is just how Sigilyph are by nature. Always so elusive and cryptic.

Other social media websites feel overwhelming and at times, hostile, in my experience, and frankly a pain to use, but I am hoping that I will be pleasantly surprised here. (I have also stumbled across a few rumors pertaining to this website, and I am very, very intrigued...)

That aside, however, I do hope at the very least, I can spread knowledge and interest in our history. I promise you all, it's worth learning a thing or two! (:

// ooc under the cut!

Hello! You mayyy recognize this guy if you've been following my stuff for a while. This is a hard reboot of his original blog (Extrasensory-absol or something I can't remember </3.) Almost none of the information from that blog is canon now! I fumbled so hard with that blog, he deserves better

ill be real I'm tired so I'm just copy pasting from Paris' blog, hang on:

Hello! This is the OOC part of the introduction! I follow from @act11as, and ooc posts will be tagged as such, and will usually have the color green.

My rotomblr "hub" account is @battle-subway-aftershow!

Muse is an adult, mod is a minor. Don't be weird, or I'll screenshot your ask and make fun of you with my friends. Into the hall of shame with you.

(Weird: NSFW/Suggestive asks, fetish mining, etc. Do not fucking do these.)

Additionally: If your main is NSFW, please do not follow me. I will block you for my own comfort.

ALL TRIGGER WARNINGS WILL BE TAGGED AS "[word] tw"! This is to make it easier to blacklist things! if I ever miss something or you need me to tag something in specific, shoot me an ask or a dm! I'll try to remember.

Guidelines/Rules I guess?

*ALMOST ANY kind of Pokemon Irl blog can interact! Eeby deebies, sapient pokemon, evil teams, whatever! I cannot guarantee that Alzis will be nice to you, however.

*Self-Insert fallers, please do not interact. I personally cannot handle these kinds of blogs. Self-insert ocs are fine, but the idea of a real person on rotomblr being isekaid into Pokémon is not.

IN CHARACTER anon hate is perfectly fine! Pester this guy he sucksssss (very affectionate.) Don't go too far, etc. etc. be civil this is a pokemon roleplaying community

Extra:

Mystery Gifts are open and preferred! Go wild! Just remember the rules!

Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are always open! Feel free to torment this guy

Musharna mail, (sending dreams) and Musharna malice (sending nightmares) are always on! Once again feel free to torment this guy.

Magic anons are usually off, unless I specifically specify otherwise!

Organizational tags:

#[nickname] the [pokemon] - Most posts about Alzis' pokemon should be tagged like this.

[TBA]

And, here's his playlist! No youtube version yet (although I hate spotify), I'll be working on that :]

[amysgiantbees]

I think the way Hell works in Dead Boy Detectives is like this:

*This is all with the caveat that one of the reasons why I left Christianity is because I feel like a land of abuse you go to when you die is not something morally sound nor something I want to believe in. So, when I say something like "deserves to be in Hell" it comes with the caveat that I don't actually think really anyone does deserve to be there I mean it more in world or narratively speaking.*

Edwin get's taken on a technicality. He doesn't deserve Hell but his soul was promised to a demon. A demon who seemed, quite frankly, pretty apathetic towards capturing souls (maybe it was a middle man or a soul collector). He is owned by a denizen of Hell but belongs in Heaven (or whatever) so he's there on a technicality. Until someone is willing to challenge whoever owns his soul he will remain Hell's property. Although this is somewhat contradicted by the Night Nurse being absolutely flabbergasted by his technicality existing. Have there just not been a lot of successful demon summoning's with kids? Have most people through history just happened to only sacrifice shitty people? Maybe there's more to his technicality but without anymore information I say that it's just that he's been sold to Hell but belongs in Heaven.

Simon "deserved" to go Hell for bullying and inadvertently sacrificing Edwin. Which is why he get's an appropriate punishment. A "just" punishment unlike Edwin who is owned and so is more of a personal demon plaything than someone getting what he's owed. However, when Edwin forgives him Simon no longer needs to be punished. There's no one he's hurting anymore. There's no one past or present who feels wronged by him anymore. Edwin forgives him, and might weirdly be grateful as he wouldn't have Charles, Crystal and Nico without what he did. But Simon also needs to stop feeling like he belongs in Hell. He needs to stop, in a sense, wanting to be there. Quite literally "If you punish yourself, everywhere becomes Hell" he needs to forgive himself to be free.

This is echoed with the WW1 solider, Wilfred, in episode 1. I think Death could probably just force people to go to heaven but that's not who she is. But also I could really see this as the philosophy of Death in the show that "If you punish yourself, everywhere is Hell." So, if you're "so confused. So full of anger and hate" that you barely know what's going on. Let alone are able to think clearly about guilt and morality. Maybe you can't go to heaven, because you won't accept it. But you don't deserve Hell. So you're stuck. A ghost.

With Maxine I think she does not know why she's in Hell because A: There's no kindly Death taking you by the hand and explaining things to you. With Hell you're just snatched. B: I think that's part of the punishment of it all, not having answers. She doesn't know why she's there the same way she didn't know not to stalk or attack Jenny. She still thinks what she did was loving. She "needs" to be punished and reflect on what she's done. And that'll only start once she stops feeling sorry for herself on the stairs and finds her punishment. You can't forgive yourself or reflect on what you've done if you won't look at your actions for what they are.

Heaven requires reflection.

Or idk. Might come back to this later. Just some thoughts.

[existslikepristin]

Unexpectedly busy week, that was. Except today. Today I got home and ate ice cream

Only two options in the poll this time! Is there a secret reason?! Yes, it's because I didn't have any more ideas The poll is only going to be available for 24 hours, because I should be able to get the next part up tomorrow!

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, microtransactions???

(Story Index)

Anime Girls

"I wish for a harem of anime girls!" you blurt out before you can think.

Joy appears mildly shocked for a moment, but then she gives you a wry smirk. "Look at you, making a wish like that. You perverted weeb."

You frown and put up a finger of protest, but Joy quickly continues, "I know. I know. You're not the first of your kind I've come across, master. Being a weeb is an honored profession nowadays, and you're all special because of your unique waifu and/or husbando selection(s). I know the drill."

The air around you seems to contract and expand simultaneously, and everything in your line of sight briefly tints green. Except, that is, for Joy herself. Even as space bends in front of your very eyes, causing no small amount of queasiness to knot about in the pit of your stomach, Joy remains on the table, sitting up with the same smooth grace she has continuously displayed up to this point and only looking as green as usual, which isn’t all that green, really.

And then it's over. The air feels normal again, and your standard color vision has returned.

"Was that the wish?" you ask.

"Sure was!"

You look around. Nothing has changed. You see no anime girls. Not even your waifu (though, considering Joy told you she can't read your mind, you're not sure how she would have known to pick her). "So, where's the harem?"

"I figured you wouldn't be able to list each and every anime girl you've ever wanted to fuck."

Joy pauses. After a few seconds you say, "That's not a useful explanation."

"Oh. Right. Check your phone."

"My phone?" you inquire, as you reach down to take your phone from the pocket of your discarded shorts.

"Yup! I've noticed that most weebs are very heavily invested in their own tropes, which I appreciate, as you can imagine. And one of the more common tropes in harem anime I've seen is that the protagonist controls some aspect of the world around them with a supernaturally-powered smartphone."

You tap your phone out of sleep mode. "So, I have a phone… harem?"

"No, master. You have a magic app that summons anime girls into your presence, all of which are suspiciously and sexually attracted and devoted to you, of course. This will make your harem as weebly wobbly as you can possibly get!"

You exit your phone's internet browser, where, obviously, you had been reading existslikePristin fanfics, and go to your home screen. A new app does a little inflation animation to let you know of its location. The icon is a silhouette of a lithe woman on a green, circular background, and is not labeled. You tap to open it. There is no waiting on load time. You're immediately taken to a very cluttered generic fantasy town isometric view, with bubbles of text all over the place. You think the text might be Sumerian.

"It's a mobile gacha game!" Joy looks and sounds far too proud of herself. "And with my special djinnfluencer promo code, you get one thousand free shards! And that's not all! You get ten free spins, five billion gold coins, and double daily rewards for the first week!”

Options:

Okay, that was exceptionally dumb. Ask if there’s a way to undo a wish.

Whatever. A harem’s a harem. Figure out this app and summon an anime girl.

[ideas-on-paper]

Geppetto's dialogue about the Workshop train

I've discovered yet another dialogue that I wasn't aware of in my NG+ run!

If you've been to Krat Central Station a second time and found Geppetto's secret workshop in the train where you woke up (destroy the barrier behind the chair, then go into the room and pick up the letter), he actually has something to say about it:

[Spoilers for Lies of P!]

Now, this dialogue makes a lot of things very interesting.

For starters, it almost sounds like Geppetto knew that the letter was there - note how he says "the letter", not "a letter". (Of course, it might just be the English translation, but it's noteworthy.)

With full knowledge of the story, the contents of the letter are also very intriguing. Simon says that without Pinocchio, he never would've found the Workshop train, and that "unfortunately for Geppetto", he has the ability to read memories.

However, reading someone's mind and predicting the future are two different things - what made Simon so sure P would return to the Workshop train? And was it truly P's(/Carlo's) memory that he read? You can lie to Simon at the Grand Exhibition and after you defeat him at the top of Arche Abbey, so if he can read Pino's mind, why wouldn't he be able to tell Pino is lying in these moments? Though maybe, Simon isn't reading P's memories directly, but through Sophia - when Sophia warns P after the fight against the Walker of Illusions that the hotel is under attack, Simon suddenly chimes in, calling communication through Ergo "an interesting parlor trick". So, has Simon been watching each and every of our steps from the beginning, through Sophia's eyes?

At the very least, Simon has been watching P since Malum District, as we learn from the letter. He says he had a "hunch" which ultimately turned out to be correct, and also says that "they" followed Pino because "they" believed that it would lead them to the relic Geppetto stole. The "relic" is undoubtedly the Arm of God, and I suspect that with "they", he most likely means the Black Rabbit Brotherhood. The Black Rabbit Brotherhood's ledger confirms they were working for the Alchemists, and the "old broker man" who supposedly consumes Ergo might even be Simon himself. So, they knew that Geppetto was in possession of the Arm of God, and going by the letter, they must've stolen it back from him shortly before kidnapping him.

Speaking of which, during my very first Lies of P playthrough, I already had the suspicion that the "kidnapping" of Geppetto was more of an escorted free ride, and the "attack" of the Stalkers was an inside job. They were supposed to make just enough of a ruckus to make it look like a kidnapping, but what they actually did was giving Geppetto a lift to the Isle of Alchemists. I suspected that when Geppetto arrived there, he and Simon would just give each other a clap on the back and say "hey, long time no see" before proceeding with whatever they had planned.

The last page of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood's ledger mentions a "tempting proposal from the Alchemists", so that at least seems to confirm the part about the Stalkers. However, given that Geppetto and Simon kinda hate each other, it might not have been completely voluntary on Geppetto's part. Still, he was probably playing along for the time being, secretly waiting for his "beloved son" to come to his rescue. So, while these old men were scheming against each other, the Stalkers were really just a tool - in the second fight with the Black Rabbit Brotherhood, the Battle Maniac even mentions they're just baits to buy time, so it seems they were aware they got the short end of the deal.

One thing that's for certain is that Simon definitely wanted something from Geppetto - otherwise, he wouldn't have brought him to the Isle. Geppetto's dialogue might actually give us a hint about what that might have been: If it's true that Simon is obsessed with P-Organs, I wonder if this is the reason why he brought Geppetto to the Isle - more specifically, I wonder if it was because he wanted Geppetto to build a new body for Sophia.

Simon probably knew that Sophia's body was on the verge of breaking, so I could imagine he ordered Geppetto to construct a puppet body and a P-Organ for her that he could transfer Sophia's Ergo into. (Sophia's body during the Rise of P ending comes a bit out of nowhere, so this would at least provide a plausible explanation why it's there.)

At the same time, this would suggest Simon sees Sophia as something more than just his tool. He constantly talks about "purifying" and "improving" humans with the Petrification Disease and Ergo, but it would appear that Sophia is so special to him that he wants to save her and preserve her personality as it is. Perhaps Simon really did love Sophia, in his own twisted way. (Interestingly, this makes for a few parallels between Simon and Geppetto, who also wants to revive Carlo at any cost. Meanwhile, it would make Sophia similar to Carlo, being kept alive against her will.)

[anonymatt1]

might as well start reposting my writing too. who knows maybe i’ll even get the drive to write some more smut

CW: cnc, stalking, mind break, creampie, bondage

When I spot you on the street I know I have to have you as my own. You're obviously dressed up to show yourself off. A tight shirt to display your perky tits and a cute little skirt that does more to show off your ass than hide it. I follow you home and start to track your schedule so I can plan how to make you mine.

One day, I see you go to take a walk in the woods, but for whatever reason you didn't bring your dog with you this time. Knowing how rare of a chance this is I can't help myself from taking my chance. I head straight towards the most isolated part of your usual path and sit down. Once you're in eyesight I pretend to be another runner taking a break and acknowledge you as you pass by. I've gotten very good at running quietly so you don't notice me coming up behind you. Suddenly everything goes dark.

When you come to I've dragged you quite a ways off from the path so that we won't be interrupted. Your hands and feet are bound by rope and your mouth is covered by a gag. I've already gotten all your clothes off and I'm thrusting into your cunt. I notice you've come to when you start to struggle.

"Don't worry baby I'll make sure you enjoy this, you're already so wet just let me use you like a good little rape doll alright?"

You notice are indeed leaking with arousal despite this being rape. As you start to try and wriggle yourself away I shove your face into the ground. Fortunately for you I laid out a mat and your face isn't scratched up, but you've lost all your leverage.

"Just like that sweetie, let daddy fuck your mind away."

You try to say you don't want this, beg me to stop, anything to get out of this situation, but the gag muffles any sort of sense to your words and they just come out sounding like moans.

"Fuck you're such a whore, getting wetter the harder I pound into you. I knew you'd be the perfect rapetoy but I didn't know you'd be so easy to break in."

Again you try to talk through the gag, this time trying to deny the reality of your state of arousal. Despite your pleading you're almost squirting out your juices around my cock as it pistons into your cunt.

"I'm gonna cum fuck...mmmmmm" I groan out loud and you feel a warmth inside you as I reach the peak.

You feel a small shred of relief, hoping that now I've orgasmed you'll be able to go free. As I lay panting on top of you and my dick seems to soften that hope starts to grow a bit more. I pull out of you and leave you lying on the ground. I dig out two phones from the pile of belongings that contains both our clothes. Coming back over I stop to take some photos of my cum dripping out of your pretty little slit, then some of your whole body laid out. Flipping your body over so that you’re facing up, I use the FaceID to open your phone, that convenience feature being turned against you. You aren't sure what all I do, but the hope that had been building up inside you is dashed apart when I throw both phones back onto the pile.

"Now I want to see your eyes while I use you sweetie. I can't wait to see the moment you realize you're mine."

I rub my shaft between your pussy's lips while I pinch them together. My cum and your grool combine to make it slick as I harden. When I slip back inside, you can't help but let out a little gasp of pleasure.

"Just like that baby, the sooner you give in the easier this will be on you."

You hate yourself for even considering it, but a small part of you does find that tempting. *It feels good doesn't it? Maybe it is easier to just accept this* whispers that dark corner. A harsh slap on your cheek brings you back into the moment as I start ramping up to a pace even more feverish than the first. In this position I'm able to go even deeper and you can feel that I'm starting to reach your cervix. What should be painful stabs are instead bursts of pleasure, letting that dark corner expand more. A fire starts building in your abdomen, and each thrust stokes it higher and higher. I can see the pleasure starting to build in your eyes and feel your cunt trying to grip me harder.

"Go ahead, cum for me. Cum while I plant my fucking baby in your womb."

For some reason that sets you off. Your mind shatters and the darkness filters in through the cracks. Nearly at the same time, I cum again. This time I shove my cock in as far as I can, placing the tip right at the entrance to your womb so that it gets flooded with my sperm.

As we recover from our orgasms, there’s still a shred of resistance within you. A shining star holding the darkness from taking full control. This time I stay sheathed inside you as I look into your eyes. Your tears are leaving tracks as they slide down your cheeks. I break into a kind smile that is in stark contrast to the brutality I just inflicted upon you and I reach a hand up to wipe the tears from your face.

“Now you have a choice to make. Either you can abandon me and I’ll be forced to drop you back at your house, bound up and with those pictures posted on all your social media. Or you can let me take care of you. We’ll get you tidied up before you go home and only I’ll have to see those pics. Now I’m going to take out this gag, and you’re not going to scream okay?”

This whole time I’ve been slowly moving my cock in and out and rubbing your clit. Keeping your mind focused on the feelings in your body rather than thinking through the meaning of the words I’m saying. I reach up to pull the gag from your mouth.

“So what’s your answer sweetie?”

The gag finally pulls away and you get your first full breath since you regained consciousness. The pressure of the situation starts to weigh down on you and you try to turn your head and look away. When you try to break eye contact I reach up to grip your chin and force you to keep it.

“Please baby, I just want what’s best for you.”

The continuous stimulation while you’re still sensitive after cumming. You can feel another orgasm start to build up. The star grows dimmer with each stroke I make, but I don’t push you over the edge just yet.

“You gotta give me an answer baby.”

Finally your need to cum lets the darkness consume your whole mind.

“Yes Sir, I’ll be yours just please let me cum Sir.”

I break eye contact and bring my mouth down to your tits. Taking one nipple in my mouth I start to fuck you harder, finally getting you over the edge a second time.

“Good girl.”

This time after you come down from your orgasmic high I’ve pulled away. First I put on my clothes, and then looking you in the eyes I start to undo your bonds. I can see a flash in your eyes as you briefly consider trying to break free after I’ve cut loose your legs, but the hunger in my eyes brings back the thought of those mind bending orgasms and all thoughts of escaping drain away.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Overwhelmed by Publishing Goal

Anonymous asked: Writing no longer feels free or easy anymore now that I have dreams of publishing. I’m trying to hone a technique to learn to finish a book a year to be ready for the industry but also like writing at the same time (and with the way I’ve devoured so much writing advice and gotten overwhelmed it feels fun less and less). Like I’m not even sure if I’m meant to be a writer. I don’t even know how to tell. Yes I can come up with an idea but I’m not sure that’s enough to determine that someone is meant to do something. Writing feels like something you have to be “spiritually” or emotionally connected to and I have found that I don’t always feel connected to the entire process. I’m rambling now but I’m just kind of disheartened. Any thoughts?

How to tell if you're a writer:

Do you write? x Yes No Congratulations! You're a writer!!!

Can you imagine if people who spent time knitting weren't allowed to call themselves knitters unless they finished, wore, or sold the things they knit? Or if people who loved to bake weren't allowed to call themselves bakers if they kept what they baked for themselves? Or if loved running and ran two miles every day, but couldn't call yourself a runner unless you'd participated in a marathon?

It's weird that we put all these constraints on being a writer that we don't put on other things.

Now, being an author, on the other hand, does require publication. Whether you self-publish, traditionally publish, or publish on a fiction sharing site, having your work out there for the world to see is what makes you an author.

Do you still get to call yourself a writer if you're overwhelmed and frustrated by the work it takes and the publication process? Um... YES, friend! I think most authors would agree that feeling overwhelmed and frustrated by the publication process is just part of the natural gauntlet one must go through on their journey to becoming an author.

As far as your situation goes, while it's admirable that you're trying to get yourself up to industry speed before you've even hit the publish button or gotten a book deal, you're putting the cart before the horse a little bit. Right now your only focus should be putting together a manuscript that is ready for querying or ready for an editor and publication. That's it. The writing you do in order to get to that point is going to do a lot of the heavy lifting as far as getting you to a place where you can plot and write faster. And you can tweak that process with each book you write.

And the reality is that while traditional publishing does "expect" a book a year, many traditionally published authors who are actually hitting that goal are doing so with a ton of help from others. And they're more likely to be able to dedicate more of their time toward writing. So it's a bit unrealistic to hold yourself up to that goal if you're not even published yet.

Finally, I honestly don't think I know a single author who feels spiritually or emotionally connected to the entire process of writing and publishing. I mean, yeah, ideally we should all feel some level of connection to whatever it is we're working on, but by no stretch of the imagination does that connection extend to every single day or every aspect of the writing and publishing process. So, please don't feel like you're falling short just because you're not having some sort of sacred kinship with every stop of the process.

If you haven't already, you might spend some time reading through the relevant-sounding posts on my Motivation master list. It's got a lot of posts that deal with the different reasons behind burnout and frustration, plus solutions, and some things you can do to make writing fun again.

I hope that helps! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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