#just... funny how that is... isn't it... >.>

[callsign-swan]

Into The Maw Of The Beast

The beast comes to collect a girl from your village every year. When you are chosen, you don't realise that the beast is a man. A man under a curse that only you can break.

A beauty and the beast retelling

"It's an honour to be chosen," your mother whispered as she brushed her hair through your fingers. "When I was a little girl, it was my dream to be chosen. Until I became ineligible."

She patted her stomach, no longer round with child.

Everybody from your village knew the story. The Beast that kept your village wanted your mother, expressed it every year until she was eligible to get chosen. But, a few months before she became eligible, she got too familiar with your father. The pregnancy stopped her from getting taken by the monster, but he let his rage be known.

That was why he made it clear he wanted you. You, or your village loses his protection.

The elders in your village immediately agreed. Your mother immediately agreed. Anything to keep herself safe, you supposed.

So here you stood, dressed in all white. The white flowers found at the castle entrance adorned your hair, the way the monster liked. Many girls had come before you, chin raised as they stepped through those gates and disappeared forever. Nobody knew what happened to them, and you weren't keen to find out.

"If it was your dream, why didn't you do it?" You pushed. Your lip threatened to wobble, eyes threatened to well up with tears. But you weren't going to cry.

Her hand rested on your shoulder, her smile that of a sweet and caring mother. But you had never known her that way. "Because I was having you! And the monster doesn't want something spoiled."

Something spoiled.

Most of the girls taken before you were 'spoiled', to quote your mother. But the monster took them anyway. Funny, isn't it? You were your mothers saving grace and she is your downfall.

"How long before he kills me?"

The Girls taken by the monster were never heard from again. It was easy to assume they were dead, their corpses rotting in his castle. His beastly form chewing on their flesh, blood coating the lions mane surrounding his face.

If you were lucky, it would be quick. But nobody had the courage to tell you that.

Every year the monster comes for a girl in your village. Every year your village hopes that this will be the last. The last time he will come, the last girl to get taken.

Your mother took your arm. The white dress was supposed to feel flattering, but you couldn't help but feel naked. Exposed in a sea of darkness. But the black mourning clothes were traditional for the rest of the village.

"Do what he says and you may stand a chance of surviving," your mother whispered as she walked you towards your post. She might as well have been leading you into the arms of death.

"Nobody survives," you reminded her. "Nobody comes back."

The post. So many before you had been tied to it. His swift claws had cut through the rope with precision, avoiding cutting their hands. But then he grabbed them, hoisted them over his shoulder, and ran back to his castle.

Now, it was your turn.

You pressed your back to the post, and held your hands together behind it. Your mother brushed a stray hand away from your face as your hands were tied behind your back.

"If the monster didn't want you so, I could have promised your hand to any man in our village," she whispered, her eyes welling up.

You wouldn't cry.

You knew what she was trying to say. Any man in your village. Any wealthy man that just wanted a wife as a pretty thing on his arm.

In one way, you were being saved. In every other way, you were being sent to your doom.

The village would mourn you for a few days, as is customary. A few days before they revelled in the fact that they were safe, that they were protected. They had fulfilled their end of the bargain, the monster would fill his.

And you would be dead. The weight of the world would be off your shoulders and you would be gone.

Every light in the castle came on at once.

"It is time," one of the village elders said. He pushed your mother out of the way and stepped forward to lay his hand on your shoulder. "We thank you for your sacrifice, my dear. Your memory will be honoured for years to come."

Bullshit. You would be forgotten the moment the mourning period was over.

The village elder stepped away. The entire village stepped away, retreating into their houses. Doors were locked and windows were closed.

You remembered watching once, as a girl. The monster had flown down with leathery wings. He landed, walked a circle around the girl on all fours before using his claws to swipe through the rope.

On wobbly legs, she had stepped forward at his command. But then the monster looked towards your house, met your gaze.

You ran away from the window before he could get a good look at you. You never did see what happened to the girl.

You were not nervous. You had no reason to be nervous. Every possibility your mind could conjure up for what would happen to you inside of that castle was either not as bad as what would happen, or it was accurate.

Still, your legs shook like a fawn.

Did it take this long with everybody else? Your eyes searched the sky for the winged beast that would put an end to you.

You shouldn't have been looking in front of you.

You heard him before you saw him, claws scraping against the ground with every step he took. Your breathing became laboured as he stalked closer.

And then he stepped in front of you.

In the years since you were a girl, nothing had changed. That same lions mane surrounded his face, those same horns were curling towards his head and those same tusks were protruding from his mouth. His claws were just as big, his paws bigger than that of any bear. On all fours, he was the size of you, maybe bigger than you.

But it's blue eyes were so striking. So human.

As human as his eyes were, they were nothing compared to the rest of it'sbeastly body.

Chin raised, just like your predecessors. It observed you, just for a moment, but you refused to meet it's gaze.

It's human gaze.

Finally, he stepped away from you. A snarl tore from it's lips as he circled you. It walked around you, it's claws flying out to tear through the ropes binding your hands together.

You could've run. You could have tried to bolt, to see just how far you could get before it inevitably caught you. Surely, you wouldn't have been the first to try.

Like it could read your thoughts, it growled and you stilled.

"Come," it grunted and began walking. Feet frozen to the ground, you couldn't bring yourself to take a step in his direction.

To step into the maw of the beast.

Another growl. Standing on his hind legs, at his full height, he towered over you. Paws grabbed you, lifted you into his arms. His claws dug into your skin. Not enough to pierce. Not enough to stain your white dress with blood.

You wouldn't cry. Not for this monster.

Nobody came to save you. Nobody came running out of their house, sword in hand to save you.

Like those before you, they let the monster take you away.

The monster could fly. It spread its wings and took off towards the castle. It moved silently through the night, feeling only noise being the flapping of its wings and the roar of the wind.

"What will you do with me?"

It couldn't hear you over the howling wind, over the flapping of its wings. Another grunt left its lips, body dropping lower in the sky.

Nobody had any reason to go near the castle unless they were sacrificed to the beast. A brave few went near the case to collect flowers. Flowers that were woven into your hair.

You were going to die in this place.

The monster dropped onto one of the turrets. Dropping onto all fours, he let you go. His leather wings folded against his back as he took a step forward. "Come."

The only words the monster had said to her so far.

There was nothing you could see when you looked around. The ground was far below you, too far to see. The only way off the turret was to follow him.

So, you followed him.

"What will you do with me?" She asked as she rushed to catch up with him.

The monster stopped. "Nothing," he said. "Your job is to keep me company."

"Why?" You couldn't stopped the way you barked it, your voice demanding. "What about the other girls you have stolen from my village?"

He looked at you with those human eyes. So blue, so much like a man. "They didn't make it," he said and kept on walking.

There was no more room for questioning as he disappeared into one of the many rooms, the door slamming shut behind him.

In a moment of bravery, you tried to open the doors. But it didn't work; they didn't so much as budge.

Instead, a door at the other end of the hall swung open. There was no creak, or maybe you were just too far away to hear it.

With no other choice, you approached the open door. The hall was filled with portraits, old painted pictures of kings that used to reside in the castle, used to rule over the land..

That was before the monster took over.

You stepped into the room. A room that looked as though it was made for you. A four poster bed with flowery sheets and soft pillows. Lace curtains closed. A white wardrobe was pushed into the corner; if you opened it up you would have discovered it was full of beautiful clothes.

The bed seemed to call to you. Like a siren with it's song, it beckoned you closer. You stepped towards it and the door swung shut behind you. But it didn't panic you as you laid down on the bed, your head hitting the pillow.

***

"The house welcomed her," Charles said as he stepped towards Max. The only company he was allowed in his curse.

A growl left his lips. "She'll be gone before the end of the week," he said through a grunt and settled his beastly body in his broken throne. "Just like the rest of them."

"Max," Charles barked. "The house welcomed her!" He insisted. "The house welcomed none of the others."

Max released a breath as the sun set, his body becoming a man again. His fur, his wings, his tusks, disappeared. His horns shrank in size, fitting his face better. He still had claws, when he wanted them.

Aside from the horns and the tail, he looked human. He was mostly a man again.

Max picked up the mirror from his desk. "Show me her," he said and the mirror sprung to life. The glass seemed to glow before the image of him disappeared, becoming you.

You, laying in the bed the house had made for you. Charles was right. The house had fitted the bed with sheets for you. For every other girl Max had brought to the castle, the house hadn't tried.

For you, the house had made an effort. The house was doing what it could to make you comfortable.

Why you? What was it about you that had the house taking care of you? Maybe Charles was right.

Before he could see anything more, Max placed the mirror down. He couldn't start thinking like that, couldn't get his hopes up.

The curse wouldn't be broken.

"What will you do if she lasts the week?" Charles asked as he stalked towards the balcony. But he couldn't step outside; that was his curse.

Max raised his shoulders in a shrug. "She won't last the week," he said, crossing one leg over the other.

"If she does?"

Max glared at him, his nostrils flaring slightly. "It won't."

Nobody else had lasted a week in his castle. Why should you?

***

Never before had you slept in a bed so comfortable. Your eyes opened, but you didn't move. The pillow was full of feathers, the perfect resting place for your head.

Behind you, the curtains flew open. You turned to see what manner of creature was in your room. But there was nothing. You were completely alone.

The wardrobe doors opened, revealing the beautiful clothes inside. "What is this?" You found yourself asking as you sat up.

The wardrobe door moved, it's hinges squeaking. It was almost like it was waving at you.

"Okay." You pushed yourself to your feet, hands on your hips as you stood in front of the wardrobe. "What do you recommend?"

The wardrobe spat something out.

A dress, finer than anything you'd worn before. Red, made of fine fabrics and intricate stitching. No tears, no evidence of your mother trying to fix said tears.

Picking up the dress, you felt the fabric it was made from between your fingers. "Thank you," you said to the wardrobe and began getting dressed.

As soon as you were dressed, the door to your bedroom opened. "That way?" You asked and the wardrobe door moved again.

You left the room and stepped our into the hall. In daylight, it looked beautiful. The paintings looked beautiful, and the castle was certainly well taken care of.

"Where to now?" You asked outloud, waiting for the castle to respond. But it didn't. Maybe the magic was only in your bedroom.

Blindly, you wandered through the castle. Down a set of steps, covered in red carpet.

The castle was damn gorgeous. Sconces on the walls, beautiful stained glass windows. But there was no chance for you to admire it before another door opened.

Immediately, you stepped through it.

No beast waited for you on the other side. Instead, there was a man. A man in a broken throne.

He was gorgeous, his blonde hair looking closer to brown in this light. Freckles on his lip and his eyes. His blue eyes.

You hadn't taken notice of the horns on his head or the tail peaking out of his trousers.

"Shouldn't you be cowering in your bedroom?" He asked you with an air of indifference.

Hands behind your back, you sucked in a shaking, nervous breath. The Beast had to be around here somewhere, waiting to pounce. "The castle led me in here," you mumbled and looked away from him, unable to make his blue gaze.

Suddenly, he sat up straighter, his eyes going wide. "The castle led you in here?" He asked. "How?"

"The doors opened, so I went in."

The man in front of you stood suddenly. "The castle opened its doors for you," he said and you nodded. "And it led you to me."

You nodded again.

***

Shit. Maybe you were the one.

Chapter One... maybe

[skyrigel]

Fuckboy! Simon loves getting a reaction out of his shy, nerdy roommate.

He likes the way your eyes go molten whenever he invites over birds who won't stop groping at him, going crazy with their seductive Simon, Simon, Simon, who are easy and free to open up his shirt and flirt shamelessly — loves how you excuse jealousy as nerdy talks of not being able to study with his whole loud crowd.

Simon goes crazy when his eyes meet yours over the head of some--nameless--only--for--the--night hot chick he's making out with. Oh, he can cum alone at your warm face, so bothered, playing with the hem of your cardigan, licking your lips and blinking away.

He loves, loves, loves seeing you giveaway even the slightest of tremor, smallest of signs that you care, that when altogether his restraint would break down, and there would be no other way except pinning you under him all the while kissing you senseless, so he knows it's not a one way dance.

Which is exactly why he tugs his smirk back before asking in a voice he has mindlessly reserved for you, low in his throat, coated with sugar.

“Ya’ reckon you can get out da’ flat today, huh ?”

You look up at him; eyes glazed with a natural softness, one fingertip aligned to where you stopped reading.

How much he wants to kiss your eyelid—

“Why ?”

“Got a date.” Simon grins, “Big tits Jessica.”

“Jessica from chemistry ?” you hum softly.

His gaze slides along your exposed neck to shoulders, from where your sweater had dragged down. Simon has to take a moment to recover from the cadence his heart just experienced all at once.

“Wha— dunno. Bigs tits…blon.. brunette.”

Maybe blonde.

He can only see your tinted face, and the way you sit with your knees up, your sweater sleeves going down knuckles.

Simon doesn't know why he gets so anxious when you stop looking at him, and continue reading the black thursday of October, 1929. He starts to recognise that the way his heart tugs might be incoming heart stroke because you won't see him.

Until you break the silent torture. “Okay.”

He almost doesn't hear you from the storming inside him — to somehow shovel this topic forever, and to keep you accompany in any other way, to make you laugh with that amoeba joke you always chuckled despite saying it's not funny.

To kiss this small sad smile away from your lips.

“Wot ?” he shudders.

“Alright, I actually had a library date so—”

“Date ?!” Simon jerks up so fast, with his palm planted flat on the small dining table.

You flutter your lashes, barely concealed smirk at the way your empty tea cup rattles on the table.

Good.

“Yeah. Isn't he your mate—” you scan his waning face, he thinks only he can do this but two can play a game, “Johnny.”

“Mactavish ?!” he blurts urgently, the nerve on his neck feels like it would explode. Honestly, he'd explode whole before he sends you off with Johnny on what ? Library date his ass. It foul play on his innocent roommate, he ain't letting anyone take you away.

“Are you alright, Simon ?” You ask him, dripping with innocence.

Simon slowly sits back down, trying to form sentences that aren't ‘I am in love with you,’ and ‘Don't go with that dog. Stay with me forever.’

“I…I don't feel like…hey, um, reckon we should stay in and revise.” Simon quips, hopefully glancing at your open book.

“Exams are so close.” he presses on at your raised brow.

“Exams are nine weeks away.” you counter, Simon doesn't take it that way.

“See ?! There's no time.” he jumps out and snatches away your empty cup while scanning at the open page, “I really need to study bout this whole great... depression.”

You scoff under your breath, he takes that as a win with his silly-relieved smile.

“Gonna make tea for us, and tell Johnny ya’ won't be able to make it today, alright ?”

“Alright.” you whisper, grinning in the sleeve of your sweater.

Got him all riled up this time, aye.

⚝ Masterlist ⚝

[book-lore]

Okay, so I shouldn't likely take the bait on this but I will this once to say something in case someone comes across this and it does the bad thing of embedding into the back part of your mind: You are allowed to leave a relationship at any time at all. Three days. Five years. Twenty years. It doesn't matter. Sometimes there's nothing even wrong necessarily except that you grew apart from each other. People can (and do!) love their partners and end up needing different things in a relationship. It's okay if you have come to that point and you realize that the sacrifice for the relationship won't make you happier than leaving it. It will hurt, but not as much as growing resentful of them for giving something you really wanted up when they couldn't make up the deficit in the end. That isn't a failing, it's just life.

As to the second post in this: if someone has a structured timeline for the events in your life like this, run. This isn't funny, this is the biggest of red flags. Your relationships are personal and if they are going to be meaningful and healthy, you shouldn't be forced to throttle them with an imposed timeline that makes you feel pressured into decisions about them. In the grand scheme of a marriage, especially if you are being pressured to marry young, a year is no time at all. There's plenty you will not know about a person in only a single year. Six months is nothing. Some people are going to be running full speed into this kind of relationship with enthusiasm and it's not up to anyone but the participants to decide if that's going to work for them or not. But impositions like the one in the second post present clear indications on specific expectations and almost certainly, in a case where someone is expecting to be married by such a tight deadline, there will be other expectations. These are going to include what you can or can't do with your body. How many children you will be expected to have. What kind of role you will have in your own home. When someone sets out a clear and non-negotiable timeline for when you should be making a decision about what ought to be a pretty large change in your life, it's never for your benefit. Healthy relationships aren't like that and this is how people end up in abusive places that become difficult if not impossible to escape.

As always, you are the one to make these decisions and I hope you will think about them as much as you feel you need to. Even if you do, it's possible to make mistakes. Just don't let someone else force you into one. Take the time you need. Talk a lot. Walk away if it's time. Do not give up your autonomy or be pressured into a decision because someone told you that time is running out. You have a whole lifetime to figure out living.

These people are so fucking crazy sidjsifjsofkkslvmslc

[axetivev]

— Summary: Childhood friends with the strongest sorcerer. But high school separates you, but oh! When you two became older, you met again. You thought Satoru was still Satoru. But guess, you are wrong!

— Warnings/Tags: Yandere!Satoru, Reader is older than Gojo (2 year gap), Ooc Gojo (?), Childhood friends to lovers, smut, semi-public sex, marking, Mentioned multiple rounds, Mostly Vanilla lol.

— Words: 2.4k

— A/N: yeah, perhaps this isn't one of my best works,, writerblock and work really drains the living shit out of me. but really, i enjoyed writing this. requests are now open btw! I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoy writing this !! <3 (spoilers, a new oc is coming up !)

— Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Male!reader.

You’ve known Satoru since practically diapers. From your childhood, you remembered vividly that you were known to eh the energetic one while Satoru was more of the quiet one.

You remembered that day you met with his blue eyes, informations about his curse technique, everything. Your parents, well. They expected you two wouldn’t be so close, in their eyes, you were two years older then him and you too were weaker then him. They thought Satoru wouldn’t even want to play with you or even took a glance. But they were very very very wrong.

Despite that you were older then him. Somehow, you were more like the child then Satoru. Satoru himself? He was like the older one. Even if people doesn’t know much about them, it’s was so easily mistaken between who’s older and who’s younger. Not to mentioned, Satoru was also slightly taller then you.

“Gojo!!” You were giggling as you showed the white haired boy the frog in your hand as the frog let out a small sound. “I found a little frog!! Take a look!!”

Satoru looked at you, titling his head, slowly inspecting the certain “frog”. “...That’s a toad.”

“But it’s cute, right!” You smiled brightly at him. He can practically saw small stars inside of it, thought he doesn’t say it. Satoru loved it that you were smiling at him.

Only at him. No one else. Only him.

However, when highschool roles around. Specifically in Tokyo Jujutsu, it’s somewhat difficult to believe that you and Satoru was somehow, separable. You were close with Kento Nanami and Yu Haibara. Personally, in your eyes. Satoru already had his own friend group. Seguru Geto and Ierie Shoko. So why would you bother him so much since he already had more friends? Besides, in Tokyo Jujutsu, he was practically famous! Even once, you saw one of the teachers got embarrassed simply by looking at him.

But that decision might be the stupidest thing you’d ever do.

When you went to a mall with Nanami and Haibara. Time really messed with you, the first energetic child now become more of the calm one. You were looking at Haibara who was eagerly running around while Nanami, who was beside you kept pinching the bridge of his nose. Muttering about something you cannot really heard since the mall was rather filled by many.

“He has too much energy...” Nanami rubbed his face, you just chuckled beside him.

“Guys!!” Haibara eagerly walks up to you, grabbing your hands as he squeezed it. “I founded a photo booth right around the corner! Wanna check it out?”

“Yu—” Nanami was about to capture Haibara’s wrist, only for him to run away quickly. Nanami groaned as he followed the brown haired male’s steps.

You were just laughing to yourself seeing how funny and amusing the scene is to your eyes. Really, it’s fun to see both of them almost like tom and jerry whole you were just trying your best to not make a bigger scene. After your laugh, you were about to follow both Nanami and Haibara.

“[Name].”

You stopped mid track, your eyes widened and you felt your body tensed up. That voice... sounds so familiar. You immediately turned your head, you saw... no one. Nobody. Where you hearing things or that was actually someone calling you? You don’t really know, you were still puzzled by who’s voice it was—standing alone though many people were walking around you. It felt weird... you stood there long enough for Nanami and Haibara to go up to you. Their face was showing clear concerned. But you brushed them off.

“Just! Hearing... things. Nothing to worry!” You shrugged to both of them. Trying to act calm. But you knew; someone was watching you.

Time sure flies fast.

You lost Haibara. But still having Nanami, that’s now becoming more quiet from the past years. You can’t blame him, you also grief a lot since Haibara was the sunshine, with him not being around. Soon enough, you and Nanami slowly grew apart. Making you feel lonely most of the time.

You also heard about what happened to Satoru after years of basically silence. Honestly, you had your own urge to talk with him, but your parents wanted you to focus on school. Even so, that same voice that called you, the first time you heard it in the mall was played repeatably in your mind. Or what it actually that same voice kept calling you? You don’t really know, you just kept your mouth shut since there’s practically no one you can speak with.

And years of work, you now, found yourself to be a sorcerer. Working in the same high school you use to attend, a lot of students love you, and some hated you. The students who loved you said that though you’re strict, you were kind to them. Having actual effort in teaching them, while those you hated you? Yeah. The strict part—but some also had respect on you. Some saying you were better then a certain teacher that many girls in Tokyo Jujutsu often say was “too-handsome-to-be-a-teacher”.

It was a normal day in your class, you taught some of the students about basic stuff, and training. As the bell rang, before you could dismiss the class, a tall male came to the class. All of the students were gasping as they stare at the sorcerer who was standing with a stupid grin in his face, white haired, blindfolded eyes… Wait. Satoru—!?

Students already rose from their seats. Running to Satoru as if he was like an idol who would hiatus for a very long time after their first appearance. You just stood in your desk, he was like you remembered, his features were like you remembered. He’s just taller now, maybe—even taller then you. Satoru greets the students, like they were friends since forever, until that covered eyes of his stared at you, straight to your soul. It… hah?

“[Name].”

That voice… Satoru’s voice was similar—no, identical to that voice that often called you. Making you froze, slightly tensed up. You saw him walked up to you, you just looked at him, it was clear he was taller then you. Some of the students, who looked at both of you actually surprised to saw you being somehow shorter then you, when they knew you were older. But they didn’t really expect that you were shorter then him—now, that doesn’t really matter for your current position.

Satoru’s hands both clamped over your shoulder, you flinched. “Goj—”

“Let’s make out.” His voice was loud enough to be heard by every student in your class, your eyes widened, heck. Even some sorcerers took a peak from the door, Satoru doesn’t care probably, because you were literally being thrown to his shoulder before he dashed with a blink—!

“GOJO—HEY! PUT ME DOWN!!” You were practically yelling while you turned your head back. But the male seemed to be stubborn, unwilling to let go.

“Satoru, [Name]. I didn’t call you by your last name.” That was all he said, before he found an empty room, immediately locking the door. How did he even get access to the key…?

You were practically manhandled by Satoru, his hands, surprisingly bigger then yours, grabbed your hips before giving it a squeeze, you swore it will bruise later on. Satoru’s right hand, originally on your hip moved to your chin. You were now face to face with the man once your childhood best friend that grew apart, Satoru sighed as he pulled his blindfold. You then met with his blue eyes, your eyes widened for a second, your hand slowly tried to reached his black cloth.

“Ah, Goj—Satoru, your—" “I know, [Name].” Satoru held your wrist, giving it a tight squeezed that make you yelp. He led your wrist to his lips, placing a kiss—almost hesitant.

“[L.Name] [Name], finally… I got my hands on you. Again,” he empathize that word, you slightly titled your head. Satoru leaned forward, his teeth slowly contacting over your skin. Not enough for blood to flow but enough to make you gasped. “It’s been painful seeing you around him.”

Your legs tightened around his waist, you tried to said something, but Satoru pushed his index and middle finger to your mouth as he licked the place he had bite. He then slowly unbutton your shirt—placing wet kisses and some bite marks along the day. Your hands moved to his hair, as you yelp from the pain, but it felt good. Fuck, or were you just horny?

“Seriously, you were distant when we were in highschool,” Satoru let out a bitter laugh, his free hand moved down, almost urgently trying to unbuckled your belt. “Especially when you’re with them.”

“Sa–Satoru…” You whimpered, Satoru’s breath reached your ears. You gasped when your crotch, clearly show a tent forming was squeezed by him. A smirk played on his lips the moment Satoru unzipped your pants, letting it fall to the ground.

A whine escaped your lips when Satoru bit your ear. You haven’t or couldn’t see it, but you swore there’s a lot of marks in your body at this point. Satoru crashed his lips against yours, a moan escaped your lips as his tongue easily dominating yours. Such of a heated kiss that you failed to notice that fact Satoru already ripped your boxers as he continued to kiss you breathlessly.

The kiss wouldn’t end if you haven’t pulled his hair, a thin thread of saliva connecting between yours and Satoru’s lips. For a moment, you two just stare at each other. It felt a little… uncomfortable, to say the least. Just him, staring at you slowly ticks you off.

“…What?” You broke the silence. Satoru playfully rolled his eyes.

“Admiring you, but it seems you’re impatient,” Satoru let out a chuckle, you raised an eye brow—soon enough, you felt a fingers, specifically three, entered your hole. “You barely changed…”

His fingers thrust right into your prostate. Almost immediate, you thought at least he would go slow. But he doesn’t choose that route—his fingers opening you up—scissoring you so much as if he prepared you for war. You wrapped you wrapped your arm around his neck, resting your head over his shoulder as you let out a quiet whines. You don’t even know if this room was able to muffled you voice.

You felt your orgasm was close. Your hands clutched over his backed clothes, your cock already spitting precums but Satoru pulled his fingers away with a grin, while a disappointed whine escaped your lips. You were about to protest—really, however it never happened when you felt something already rubbing your hole. You looked down as your eyes turned from weariness to horror.

How big was that!? 9 inches!? It’s also thick… who the fucks need a penis that big!?

“It’s big isn’t it?” Satoru rested his head on your chest, with a grin that you’d gladly slap him. For now, you couldn’t. “Hit my back five times if necessary.”

You felt his cock entered your hole—fuck, he haven’t even moved a single inch but you already felt your own dick twitching. Honestly, you can lie that it felt weird that you were about to get fucked by your own childhood best friend, and you also can’t lie that it also excites you. Satoru’s hand tightened around your hips, letting you adjust abit before thrusted his cock. A moan escaped your lips as you met with your climax. Your cum stained your shirt, it felt humiliating thought no one was watching.

Even so, Satoru smiled, he rested his head over your shoulder—taking your right hand and intertwining them with his—his pace was unforgiving. Your arms tightened around Satoru’s neck, your hands clawing his still cloth back. And your moans spilling out, you tried to remind yourself—mentally scolding yourself that there’s a chance people could hear you, now, it’s too late to think about it. You just kept on moaning like an animal in heat.

“[Name]…?” Satoru placed a kiss over your shoulder, making your dick twitched. “I’m close… can I fill you? Pretty please?”

“Fuck, damnit fine—fine! I’m—I’m coming!”

Soon enough—you were met with another orgasm, a loud moan escaped your lips. Begging no one would hear you, Satoru continued his unforgiving pace—your toes curled, you’re still sensitive after all. Satoru then paint your asshole white, it felt so warm—too warm for cum. A disappointed whine escaped from your lips when he pulled his cock out, your hole was dripping. With Satoru’s cum. You looked up, meeting with the blue eyes from your childhood. Seemingly dark with something—you swore you see hearts as his pupils.

“So? How was it?” Satoru’s eyes were back to normal when he spoke.

You sighed at his words. “It’s my first time, and you just went out and—”

“You’re a virgin!?”

“…Yeah?”

Satoru smirked, you saw those similar pupils resurface—he held both of your wrist and put them on top of your head as you felt his tip rubbing your rim. “You’re so innocent… I promise I’ll be gentle this time.”

Every part of your body was sore as you come out from that room you’ve had multiple rounds with Satoru. He was beside you, holding you so tightly, almost as if you’d go by a blink.

Not with this jelly legs—!!

Just right the moment the two were out, Yaga Masamichi. Was patrolling around the halls and saw you, giving a wave.

“[L.Name]!, it’s rare to see you coming home late.” He came up to you, giving Satoru a nod.

“Wait, what time is it?” Your voice coming out raspy. You swore you’d beat the living shit out of this dumbass so called “strongest”

“It’s currently… ah, 6:45 P.M.” Masamichi said casually. Your eyes widened, Satoru in the other hand, held back a chuckle.

“I— 6:45!?” Your voice was practically echoing around the halls. Satoru smirked, guiding you to go out from the school. Not even giving Masamichi a glance. His eyes were just on you. Before he carried you—your body in his arms while your hands on his chest.

“Rest.” Satoru told you, you should of just refuse. But you nodded, you make yourself comfortable as sleep slowly taking over you when your head was on his chest so prefectly.

“Mine.”

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Ok,, all jokes aside, what the hell is wrong with everyone on the EAPS???

Like. I know there's a murder virus going around, but consider. Eclipse has had so many things placed on his shoulders that he's trying to work on/fix/figure out/build/whatever. And I KNOW everyone there is aware of how busy and stressed he is

But yet. They made fun of him. They laughed, they made jokes at his expense, and they infantilized him (especially Roxanne), despite his very clear anger and how very obviously upset he was. I don't care if he was a baby. Baby or not, you can still TELL when babies are upset. They get very loud, they cry, they act out. Eclipse was extremely verbal; he was straight up hurting people, and Charlie may have actually hurt him when she tried to give him that back massage, due to his injuries from the Mimic

Someone needs to 1) have a long, LONG talk with Charlie and make sure that she understands good timing vs bad timing for these sorts of things, as well as consent (from whoever is on the receiving end) to be transformed into something else, and 2) knock some sense into Roxanne specifically. Of everybody there, she's seen Eclipse be vulnerable, at his weakest, lowest point, back when he was trying to save Andy and Jake. She's been around Eclipse long enough to know that he has issues, and what sort of things he'd like vs what he wouldn't like

She's supposed to be his friend. I know it's a common thing for friends to playfully bully each other when they both have a mutual understanding that neither of them actually means anything by it, but here, there was no mutual understanding. It's not fun and friendly when the person on the receiving end isn't in on it, and it's ESPECIALLY not ok to do when they're seriously upset about something

If Eclipse turns his back on everyone, regresses and gets even meaner, and/or starts to be affected by the virus faster than everyone else, I wouldn't be surprised

This episode just......... wasn't funny. I know it's just a silly show on YouTube, and normally I'm very good about not taking it too seriously, but like. I can't laugh at Eclipse. Not like this. All the episode did was make me feel bad, and I hope that Roxanne and Charlie get whatever's coming to them. Not saying Charlie should be hurt or killed or anything like that, but she is to blame here, and she does need to face the consequences of her actions

The same can be said for Roxanne, too. Roxanne is a grown adult, she's supposed to be Eclipse's friend, and you would think she'd have the decency to be respectful of his feelings, but I guess not

[c4tluver02]

too hot!

wc: 2.5k

summary: Going over to Steves for a pool day turns into races and playing mermaids.

warnings: r had female anatomy, Steve has a dirty mind, Steves taller than r.. nothing crazy!!

a/n: i feel like ive written like three pool pics w steve but i am who i am.

The July heat was no joke. Not even the blast of Steve’s car AC was enough to stop the sweat from dripping down your neck. He had offered to pick you up to take you to his place to swim. A nice cold pool waiting for the two of you sounded like heaven in itself. 

You were already in your bathing suit when he got to your place, only a small pair of shorts covered you enough for Steve's liking. Good thing you're gonna be in the privacy of his backyard he thinks. 

The drive to his place is nice, the music is playing and the gold in his hair is really poking out today. You swear the sun makes his hair lighter. He’s also wearing his swim trunks, already been in the cold pool trying to clean it before calling you. However, he's wearing a shirt making it appear as a normal outfit. But you know those short swim trunks better than anyone, they show just the right amount of thigh that makes your mouth water. 

“I like these.” Steve says pulling at the bow on your hip. He’s talking about your swimming suit you so comfortably show off. 

“Thanks baby. I hope I get a good tan.” You say as turn your body towards him more. 

“Did you hear the UV on the news? It’s at like 9 right now.” He really wishes you had something on because to drive and look at you was something he was having trouble multitasking. 

The conversation from there flows easily, both of you happy to be in each other's presence. 

–

Once you get to Steve’s place he’s quick to take his shirt off, lazily discarding it to the couch as he goes to the kitchen. 

Copying the same motion to take off your shorts you lay them next to Steve's shirt as you follow him. Both of you are now ready to swim and Steve got drinks for you two. He’s even sweet enough to open the door for you, the ground is so hot you can feel it through your thin flip flops. 

The sweetness immediately stops when he presses his cold can on soda against you back making you squeal. He laughs as you try to do the same back but sigh when you don't get the same shocked reaction. 

Steve thinks about pushing you into the pool when you bend over to dip your hand in, feeling the water out. But with the open soda if your hand and the teasing he just pulled he goes against the idea. 

“I think you having a pool is the best thing that ever happened to me.” You say as you step down the stairs in the water. 

This makes Steve roll his eyes and flash a pretty smile. “Really? The best thing that's ever happened to you?” 

You turn to him as you stand on the last step, thigh deep in the water, pretending to think about his question. 

“Hm, yep! I am pretty sure it’s the best thing to happen ever actually.” 

“Funny, cause I could think of a few things that would actually top being in a pool.” He says going into the water himself. 

“What, like sports and beer?” You giggle, flicking some water at him. 

“Mmm no I was thinking something maybe like pus-” You slap your hand against his mouth before he gets it out. Already a step ahead of his dirty mind, knowing him too well. 

Taking your hand off his mouth when he stops talking. “You’re awful Steve Harrington.” But it’s said with a smile, cheeks already burning red. 

“You look really pretty in your little swimming suit, have I told you that yet?” He asks walking  towards you. The area of the pool you are standing in isn't deep, the water hitting him at his stomach. 

“You told me you liked it but not that I look pretty in it.” Your lying against the wall of the pool, both of your arms laying out of it as you put down your drink. 

Steve cages you in putting down his own drink. “Well I think you look really pretty. Even without the bathing suit.” He adds cheekily with a wink. 

“Oh well thank you! How sweet of you to say that.” You play along. Steve always acts the same when he sees you in a bathing suit, sweet but ready to turn it to something else if you asked. 

“I am known for being sweet so that checks out.” He responds, giving you a quick kiss, removing his arms from your sides where he was trapping you. 

“Wait, I'm gonna go under.” 

“Okay watch out for sharks.” Steve says getting a drink of his soda. 

“That's not funny, you know I hate sharks.” You say turning to him with a frown. The single mention of it taking away your light demeanor.  

“Baby you're in a pool there's no sharks. Go under.” 

You do as he says despite wanting to roll your eyes and fully submerge yourself under the water. When you get back up you push your hair out of your face and it gives you an idea. 

“Steve, did you ever play games in the pool as a kid?” 

His relaxed look tells you he’s not really in the pool to play games but to sit and chill. You on the other hand have been in the water for 3 minutes and can’t sit still.

“Uh, not really. Never had anyone to play games with. Also I never really went swimming since I was home alone.” 

He says it so casually but your heart breaks for a second at the information. You knew he was alone a lot but maybe it was worse than he lets on.

“Well good thing I’m here we can play.” You give him a soft smile and grab his hand. He’s following along but unsure by what you mean. 

“Did you ever pretend to be George Washington?” The smile that breaks on his face is wide and you can tell he is already interested. 

“Um no what's that?” 

“Okay so you go underwater and then flip your hair over and then when you come up you fold it and you’ll look like George.” 

Steve laughs at the way you say his first name like you know him. “Can you show me?” You explained it fairly well but if he's gonna embarrass himself by getting something wrong he’ll be over and done with the games. 

You nod and do as you just said, under the water, coming back up, and flipping your hair over itself. Steve lets out a loud laugh at how you look, he’s clearly never seen this and it makes your heart grow twice its size. 

“You do it! I think you have long enough hair for it.” 

Steve copies and when he comes up he tries to fold it but obviously not as familiar with the motion as you are, it falls before it has a chance to stand. 

“Here lemme do it. Go back down and come up.” It may sound demanding but your tone is so gentle it’s anything but. 

For the second time he goes down and comes back up and you fold the front of his hair for him. It doesn't look as George Washingotn as yours does but the idea is there. It still gets a laugh out of you all the same and Steve knows he looks funny but to hear your laugh he couldn't care less how he looks.

“It’s close enough, I guess it’s a girl thing.” You shrug as you bend your head back to dunk your hair in the water, getting it back to its original state. Steve just shakes his head to get the water out. 

“What's another game you played?” Steve asks.

“We could rate each other's hand stands? I would do a bunch of tricks and make my parents rate them like I was a gymnast.” 

“Okay, do you wanna go first?” 

“Sure, ok when I come back up, give me a number from 1-10 based on how well I did.” You walk back from him a little so you don't hit him in the face when you bring your legs up. 

Steve can tell you've done this countless times because of how fast you go upside down and poke your legs straight out. 

Coming back for air you ask “So? How’d I do?” 

“I think that was a solid 9/10 you did really well!” His smile is contagious and you blush at his praise. 

“Thank you, now you go.” You say giving him space. 

Steve does as asked and when he is upside down he realizes this actually takes a bit of core strength. Too busy focusing on keeping himself up straight he lets his legs fall apart. 

“Okay, how was I?” He asks floating back up.

“That was like a 2/10. Your legs didn't even stay together! And you had sickled feet!” Steve doesn't even know what sickled feet means but it was true. 

“2/10?! It was my first time, coach, go easy on me!” 

“Okay fine maybe you can do better with front flips?” Steve's eyes widened at that. He can do a front flip no problem. 

“Okay watch, ready? Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.” He says getting out of the pool. You meant a small flip in the water but he must be so confident he could do it out of the water. 

“I won't blink, I have laser focus on you.” You promise. 

Steve takes a running start and does a big flip into the water. It is impressive you know you couldn't do that. 

When he resurfaces he asks what you would rate it. 

“I think that was a 10/10 and many know I'm a harsh critic.” You say clapping. 

“Thank you, no thank you, you’re too kind.” Steve says bowing. “Okay your turn.” He says swimming over to you, lightly pushing you out of his way so you can get out. 

“Okay, but I haven't done a flip in years. I am probably rusty.” You say walking out of the water. In Steve's mind you look like a Victoria's Secret model sensually getting out of the water, but in reality it's really cold and you feel like you're hunching over.

“Well I’m not a harsh judge unlike someone else.” 

You think about a running start like Steve did but you go against it. You do however make a big leap trying to get higher, this gives you barely anything and your flip is barely a flip. It’s more so a dive but when you touch the water you're folding. 

When you get out of the water you can hear Steves loud cackling. “Holy shit I thought my boobs fell out of my top.” This makes him laugh even harder. 

“Baby that was like a 0.5/10.” He jokes as you look down to make sure your boobs, in fact, didn't fall out of your top. Not that literally anyone (you or Steve) would mind.

You make a high pitched scoff. “I thought you said you weren't a harsh judge?” You're smaller than Steve and the way you almost drown trying to swim over to him is adorable. The doggy paddle isn't doing you any favors. 

Grabbing your arms to quickly drag you over to him, he gives you a hug. “That was barely even a flip.” 

You hug him back and wrap your legs around his waist. He’s holding you but because of the water you hold no weight. 

“I told you I wasn’t very good at them. And my top isn't for tricks. If I would have known I was gonna do flips I would have worn something different.” You try to defend yourself, but really you just can't flip. 

“It’s okay, at least you can do a handstand.” He can feel you twisting the hairs at the nape of his neck and the fact that your so close to him in this outfit, dripping wet, is starting to get to him. 

“We have one more thing to see who the real winner is.” You say letting him go completely. 

“And what's that?” 

“We have to race each other, whoever gets to the other side of the pool first wins.” 

Steve nods as he sees you messing with the time of your top. 

“Can you tie this tighter for me Stevie?” You ask moving your hair up and out of the way. 

Ready to help you in any way he notices the burn you're already developing. “Honey, your shoulders are already red.” Oh you did forget sunscreen. 

“It’s okay.” Another problem for another time. “Did you do it?” 

When he pulls taught on the strings he can feel just how heavy your chest is and it doesn't help his case. Nonetheless he ties it tighter and you give his cheek a quick kiss as a thanks.

“Ready?” You ask walking towards the wall for you two to start at. Your voice takes Steve out of his mind and walks with you. 

Both of you have your backs flat against the wall. “On three we go?” You ask. 

“Yeah I’ll count. One, two, three!” 

You both push off the wall as hard as you can but Steve goes way further than you. Thankfully you can open your eyes in the pool and you use it to your advantage. Using your arms to push you towards him you pull on the hem of his shorts. You dont pull hard, just enough to see the line between tan skin and pale skin but it makes Steve stutter. 

However, despite the move you pulled Steve still wins. When you both arise from the water, out of breath. 

“You little cheater!” Steve says using the last bit of air he had.

You giggle almost feeling light headed at the lack of air. “You were so fast!” It almost comes out whiny. “How are you so fast? That's not fair.” 

“I was a lifeguard. I guess I should have told you that before the race huh?” Steves squinting at the sun in his face. 

This time you give him a big splash and he gives you one just as big, if not bigger, back. Your squeals are loud, anyone who was passing by could hear them. The sound of a great time. 

“Okay Stevie that's all the games I have.” You say sighing. This was a lot of exercise. 

“That’s okay, I think we did enough in the pool, yeah?” He says, swimming to the other side of the pool to get your drinks. 

You just hop onto the ground and get out that way but you meet him to get your drink. 

“Did you wanna tan?” Steve asks, giving you a towel to dry off with.

“Can we eat something and then tan?” 

Steve doesn't really wanna tan but he’ll do whatever you want to do. 

“Okay baby, I got the watermelon you wanted.” 

“We can have watermelon and chips?” Steve doesn’t know why you’re asking him, he's gonna say yes either way. 

“That sounds good.” He agrees and opens the door for you to walk in. You’re still towel drying your hair but Steve can't get over how happy he is right now. He can't wait to spend the rest of summer like this.

[scribblingface]

yeah reblogging this for the last addition. cats don't "lie", and they don't try to pass off one action as another real quick to "look innocent". that is not how their minds work, it's just very cute and funny on the occasions that it LOOKS that way to us. but I think it's genuinely really important to like. actually understand how cats think and behave if you are someone who lives with a cat. there is a degree of anthropomorphizing your cat's behaviour that will lead to confusion, dissapointment, frustration (for both you and your cat), and a total inability to resolve basic problems with your cat's behaviour. cats are intelligent, they are social, but they're cats; they think like cats, not like humans. to resolve problems you need to understand on a basic level how your cat thinks.

that cat with the bouquet isn't "pretending" they were just rubbing on the flowers; they saw the human get angry at what they were doing, and rubbing on things like that is a friendly social 'look I'm being nice let's get along' behaviour. grooming is a way to self soothe and recalibrate after any action or interaction that goes poorly or is a little bit stressful (being told no, missing a jump and falling on the floor, etc.). in the case of the cat pushing the object back onto the table when they were about to knock it off, they probably wanted to continue playing by batting it around and they've learned that while batting it off the table gets them told no, batting it around on the table doesn't get a negative reaction, so they're switching to playing in a way that won't cause the human to get upset at them.

cats will learn what gets a negative reaction from you and often try to avoid those things. they will often try to reestablish normal friendly relations with you after receiving a negative reaction--or, especially in cats who get disproportionately stressed by a negative response, they might instead get a bit aggressive and do something like trying to swipe you, becaue they respond to that stress in an aggressively defensive instead of a conciliatory way. (and that's not a "vengeful" response to being told no, it's a defensive response to feeling stressed, and is a cue to you to moderate your negative reaction to something more lowkey that won't stress your cat out so much). they are not lying, pretending, or "manipulating" you.

Cats getting caught doing crimes

[mallory524]

Hi! I have this idea of reader trying to get Bob to watch a horror movie and him being kind of hesitant because maybe he's scared or horror just isn't his thing idk. But eventually reader convinces him and it ends up being cute and funny.

movie night :)

bob x reader

summary- Bob doesn't really want to watch a scary movie, but he'll do anything if it means spending the evening with you

tags- thunderbolts* spoilers, sort of established relationship, holding hands, kiss, thunder/lightning, Void mention

word count- 1176

notes- yayyy i love getting requests, plz keep sending them in you guys

Bob feels sort of silly about how much this movie is getting to him. It's not really the kind of thing he usually watches, but of course he'd watch anything that you want to watch. Yeah, he almost didn't, but he eventually agreed to this. He will take any and every opportunity to spend some time with you.

The two of you have gone out a bunch of times... or at least, Bob is pretty sure that's what happened. It's not always clear what really counts as "going out", but you've gotten plenty of meals together, seen a few different movies and plays, and Bob almost always tags along when you go to the grocery store. He loves hanging out with you, no matter what you're doing. You have a really comforting presence to him.

This afternoon in particular, it's pouring rain, and it has been all day. The tower isn't filled with that same lovely natural lighting it usually is, but it's still beautiful in a way. You lit a few candles to add to the very important vibe. Bucky is convinced you're going to forget to blow them out and burn the place down.

The group is just taking a lazy day, and everyone's hanging out in their own rooms, except for you and Bob in the living room. You were doing a jigsaw puzzle to pass the time when you suggested watching a scary movie.

Bob was sort of hesitant at first and you practically had to beg him. "Oh come on, please," you had said, trying to pout to look extra sad, but you couldn't stop giggling at how ridiculous you knew you looked in that moment.

Bob kept shaking his head and softly laughing, too. "Nuh uh. I really don't do scary movies". He was trying to make it sound less cowardly than it was, but he was definitely worried that the movie would be too much for him.

"Come on, Bob," you said in almost a singsong kind of way, "It's dark and scary and stormy out... It's the perfect time for this kind of thing."

The idea of curling up under a big blanket with you in the dark was definitely enticing, but he still wasn't sure.

"Hey, hey. I'm just messing around," you tell him, smiling and gesturing at the puzzle, "I really don't mind if this isn't your thing. We can keep doing this." You were always so nice to him. You got him to do things that were out of his comfort zone, but you never forced him to do anything if he really didn't want to. You'd always just tell him it was fine with that warm, comforting smile. You could probably convince him to do anything when you looked at him like that, even if you weren't trying to...

"You know what? Sure."

"Yay!!"

Now you're sitting on the couch together and watching some obscure horror movie he'd never ever heard of. You told him it wasn't that scary, and now Bob's wondering what you do consider scary because goodness-

Bob is so on edge, and the conditions outside aren't helping. Since you originally sat down to watch the movie, day has turned into night, and so the only light in the room is coming from the tv screen and the candles. The weather is somehow getting even worse, with huge cracks of lightning lighting up the dark sky every minute or so, and then you both jump at the ensuing thunder every. single. time.

You subtly glance over at Bob. He really is such a sweetheart. The man is bulletproof. You watched him tear Bucky's vibranium arm off and then proceed to turn into a vicious physical manifestation of darkness that engulfed New York City. Now, he's wrapped up in a blanket, grimacing at all the cheesy fake blood and gore on screen. Occasionally, he jumps and sends his popcorn flying up just a little, almost comically.

He's a cool guy and he wasn't kidding: these kinds of movies are really not his thing.

He catches you looking at him, and he turns hesitantly to meet your gaze. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just... I... hope you've had as good a day today as I have, hanging out with you."

Bob practically glows when he hears you say that, but he wants to play it cool. He tries to look back and forth between you and the movie, trying to show you that he cares about this thing you care about.

"Thanks. I really did have a good day. To be honest, I like ... I like doing stuff with you," he says with a shy smile.

Before you can say anything in response to his sweet words, there's another loud sound from the movie, and Bob instinctively reaches for your hand. Neither of you make any move to pull away from the small embrace.

"Hey Bob," you say, playfully smirking at him, "Are you scared?"

It's barely even a question. Of course he is.

"Well I guess it is a little much, I mean I uh- I like the story I guess, and I know it's all fake but it is freaking me out a little..." he starts to ramble, but you gently squeeze his hand and that's enough to pull him back into the moment. He trails off and you lean a little closer.

Looking right into his eyes, you quietly suggest, "Well maybe don't look at the movie anymore."

Bob notices your eyes fall down to his lips, and he knows what you're thinking. He leans just a tiny bit closer and stops so that, if he had somehow misread this, you'd have the opportunity to cut him off right then and there. Of course, he didn't and you don't.

Right as your lips are about to touch, the loud thunder startles you both and you stop short. He expects you to pull away and move on, like how the characters always seem to do in every cliche movie he's ever seen, (not unlike the one you're watching now), but of course that's silly. You just laugh quietly and lean back in to give him a proper kiss.

After that, you lean on Bob's shoulder and, in spite of the awful loud screaming and tense music blaring from the tv, you both fall asleep. You may have missed the last 20 minutes of the movie, but you got what you wanted tonight. You got to play into the fun, creepy vibe of the evening, you got Bob to spend an hour and a half with you, and you got a kiss. Bob's happy, too, because it is now abundantly clear what the nature of your relationship is.

Bucky was right; you absolutely did forget about all those candles you lit. He ends up walking around the tower and blowing them out himself. When he finds you and Bob on the couch, fast asleep in each other's arms, he just smiles to himself, turns the tv off, and goes right to bed.

[stychu-stych]

*hands on a table*

allrigh I want to remind all of my followers what type of a blog this is. Especially minors, pls take a moment to check my bio. Do you see that suggestive plus gore description? That's great. Do you see what is next to it? Yeah. Will I block any of my underage follower? Absolutely not, I also was a kid that was into topics that I probably should not see at that age. I wasn't born yesterday, I know how world, internet and people work

But for the love of god, calm yourself if you write an ask for me. I got tons of weird asks, some of them were funny, some were gross and some were... just like... ??????? I can handle most of the stupid comments, no prob. But damn if you want to write something weird check if the blog's owner isn't twice your age first

Thank you for your attention and sorry for my ironic tone, you can go back to what you were doing

[quesocheeso]

Hi! First of all, I love your art, it's beautiful, and I have a lot of fun with your comics. They always brighten my day. 🥰

Secondly, I had a question for the 3am au: Once it was discovered that MK was actually Wukong's brother, did anyone ever try to court him? I just find it funny how MK goes to Xiaoxing's school to pick him up, and out of nowhere, someone approaches him (maybe someone who tried to court Wukong in the past or someone who has nothing to do with them) with a bouquet of flowers. Before he could get any closer, Xiaoxing looks him up and down and leaves with MK before he even sees they. MK never realizes they're trying to court him. xD

P.S. I use a translator since my English isn't very good. I apologize in advance if I didn't express myself correctly or if I said something inappropriate. 😓

Ok this is actually really hilarious🤣🤣

Mans just trying to live his life and everyone is like "Oh! A new contender has entered the ring!!" Cause like MK is an adult so maybe the Monkey King is alright with them trying to court this guy?

WRONG

They're getting dunked no matter what, they're first boss battle is against Xiaoxing

His look of judgement move is super effective👍

[fryday]

still off the face of dnp earth but that photo dump was devastating am I right

[badgalsasuke]

SS fans insist that Sasuke prioritized saving Naruto because the moment Sasuke looked towards Kakashi and Sakura he saw Kakashi saving Sakura, that's why he can explain Kakashi tying the scroll to a kunai and using it as a rope. Can you debunk their argument?

Hi anon!

Yes, I can debunk that argument but my god how many times has this same question been asked to multiple narusasu blogs...

Okay, so we begin with Sasuke summoning a hawk then being told by Naruto to save Sakura and Kakashi but he ignores his plea after looking in their direction.

Now, here's where SS shippers make the argument that Sasuke didn't bother saving Sakura because he already saw Kakashi saving her so there was no need for him to do it. However, what they leave out is Naruto didn't need saving either because he can levitate yet Sasuke grabbed him anyway. Why did Sasuke feel the need to save Naruto who didn't need saving but not Sakura who didn't need saving either? SS shippers can't or rather don't want to answer that question, so they cope instead.

If Kakashi had been there or not, that's irrelevant because Sasuke never had any intention to save him or Sakura in the first place, as he, himself, states in the next panels.

Naruto who had been trying to get Sasuke to play team 7 again during the war is told by Sasuke that he quite frankly doesn't care if Kakashi and Sakura live or die, if he happened to save them before during the war is because they were close to Naruto and Sasuke only cared about saving Naruto because he simply cannot allow himself or Naruto to die, so saving Kakashi and Sakura was just collateral, never intentional.

Sasuke then asks Naruto if he understands what he means by this and Naruto responds he does, but also look at Sakura's face expressions, she understands now that Sasuke doesn't care about her.

More importantly, this is when Naruto remembers Sasuke's instinct to save him. Naruto basically clocks Sasuke. Sasuke had said he cannot afford to let Naruto be killed because they're the only ones who can undo the Tsukuyomi with their yin and yang powers, but Naruto is like "you actually saved me and not them because your body moves on its own to protect ME" which is funny because SS shippers have also tried to steal the "my body moves on its own" for their mid horrid ship so Kishimoto adding this clarification is just *chef's kiss*.

Also look at Sakura crying, if Sasuke didn't save her because he already knew she was getting saved and he was already in love with her or whatever bullshit argument SS shippers make, why is she devastated after Sasuke said he doesn't care about saving her or whether she lives or not? Not just that but she even says Sasuke is right! She's giving him reason for saying he actually should only save Naruto and not her.

Then to add insult to injury, Kishimoto double downs on what Sasuke just said by having the scroll that Kakashi is holding onto break

Guess who moves to save them? Naruto. And guess who didn't even flinch Sakura and Kakashi were falling to their deaths and instead focuses on protecting Naruto and his hawk? Sasuke.

LMFAO at Kishimoto for clarifying at last "actually Naruto could levitate all this time I just needed to make a point on who's important to Sasuke and who isn't"

[yourlocalsurrealism]

So this low-key makes no sense but:

Bruce has a metagene. It is that any cape he wears has a pocket dimension. The robins have an uncontrollable urge to hide in it.

It doesn't even need to be a legitimate cape. He was playing superheroes with a besheet when he was seven, and he pulled a medieval battle axe out of it. The Wayne's have never owned a medieval battle axe. Alfred, Thomas and Martha were extremely confused and concerned about it's origins.

Yes, I know Bruce isn't a meta. But it'd be really funny if he was. Especially with such a specific, weird power. That's how he fits all the stuff in his cape.

Like, snacks, and weapons, and Tim swears that one time he saw him just make a whole motorcycle appear from it.

Dick was cold on patrol once, and Bruce opened his cape, and just thought nothing of the fact that Dick just disappeared into it, dismissed it as a result of a really heavy warm cape.

Dick found himself in a warm, cozy, dark place, and immediately decided to go there as much as possible. He then told Jason, who didn't believe him at first but then found himself in the pocket dimension and was like "fuck yeah this is awesome".

He didn't tell Tim, and Tim didn't feel as if he was allowed to ask Batman to hide under his cape even when he was cold, so it took several years of vigilante-ing before Tim figured it out.

Damian didn't really have any chances to hide in Bruce's cape before he was lost in time, the cape didn't work the same for dick, and by the time Bruce was back, Damian believed he was too old for such childish things as seeking shelter in his father's cape.

The robins just think that Bruce got his cape enchanted somehow, and just didn't care to tell them in typical Bruce fashion. Bruce has no idea about this and is just happy that his kids like him enough to feel comfortable with him during patrol.

[sprintingowl]

Validation from the OP?!!

Honestly, there's something to be said about how someone else's devotion is a mirror, and seeing yourself reflected in a mirror isn't necessarily comfortable. I might be able to iterate more on that in a game. I dunno. I'll have to think of a clear enough idea.

Re: historicity, we're talking the aesthetic of the knight, the idealization of faithful service, so I don't think historicity needs to intrude here. Also, like, lots of things might be a knight within the context of the aesthetic even if they aren't within the context of history.

A modern day assassin and their handler can be a knight and liege in the aesthetic. You just need devotion, and a willingness to trust someone else's will as your own.

....that all said, I feel downright compelled to include a safeword in the default knightly oath the next time I worldbuild. Objectively funny if a society had to learn from its knights being stressed out all the time and had to explicitly give them permission to, like, opt out of the command structure for a few hours and go play counterstrike or something.* *I absolutely DO want to know if this is historically supported

honestly i have to kinda disagree with that post thats like “being knightcore doesnt mean pro monarchy just swear ur undying loyalty to ur bff or ur crush or smth”

no. thats not what makes it sexy. either grapple with your beloved master’s role as a symbol of the state or choose to ignore it entirely and remain their loyal hound to whatever end, uncaring of the structures of power which you serve. become naught but a blade, the burden of your choices left to settle in the hand that wields you. it’s not about being besties forever it’s about OWNERSHIP and DUBIOUS MORALITY and FRANKLY QUESTIONABLE POWER DIFFERENTIALS

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Regardless of the au au, the reveal is my favorite of all the cat stan shorts etc. It just hits. Miscommunication ABSOLVED!

Anyways, I was reminiscing of all the ways Ford found out stan was a cat and it led to a daydream session which led to the idea that Ford would not need a reveal if he witnessed the initial cursing. That is a long way of saying:

What if stan got turned into a cat the day he drove up to help Ford on the portal incident day, where they ended up fighting even before they made it to the basement and stan got hit with some magical potion or item or cursed object Ford had lying around and BOOM! One second they're punching each other the next Ford has no one to attack but a very disorientated cat. He goes from pissed to more pissed and they manage to continue the argument despite the language barrier.

Maybe Ford can't or doesn't think to use the anti curse all, so the argument ends when Ford, in all his sleep deprived paranoid wisdom, locks stan in a gnome cage so he won't "get in the way" (get hurt) and goes off to try and think of another bill solution.

Maybe he only lasts a few more hours before passing out, and bill takes the reigns. Maybe he didn't bother to actually tell stan about bill, or why he locked him up in a cage, so there happens to be a very convenient cat yowling siren to alert bill to stans location. Maybe Ford wakes up much later, and his hands and arms hurt but he doesn't think anything of it. The portal isn't on, but he feels like he should be worried about something else in particular...

Maybe when he finally remembers to check on stan, the cage is empty.

Bill angst aside, i do think Ford calling stan and then ending up with only small cat stan to help him in the Worst Time of His Life could actually be really funny. I apologize for how long this is getting. I hope you have a great day.

Hehe. That sounds super fun :) incredibly angsty even :):):) thanks for the inspiration:):):):):):):):)):):):) keep an eye out :):):):):)

[leviathan-supersystem]

Just convinced my petite bourgeoisie friend (prints their own zines) to become proletariat (get a job at Cartoon Network)

despite it's snarky sarcastic intent, this ask is genuinely adorable in it's child-like faith in the existence of the Indie Hipster DIY Punk Independent Bohemian Creative.

in practice, the number of people making their living selling DIY zines is functionally zero. if you've actually met any, you know zine makers are generally either:

funding their zine hobby with their day job (in which case they are already proletarian)

or

living off their wealthy parents (in which case yes they should get a job. not because it will "make them morally pure proletarians in the eyes of marxism" or any such nonsense, but because it will make them a functional adult, which is a good thing to be.)

but let's humor this fantasy of the Indie DIY Punk Creative. let's say someone is making a living selling their DIY zines (lol).

for them to respond to being told "you're not a part of the exploited proletariat" by saying "OKAY THEN I'LL GET A JOB WHERE I'M BEING EXPLOITED SO I CAN BE PART OF THE MORALLY PURE UNDERCLASS" is so... tumblr-brained in it's understanding of oppression not as something to be abolished, but as a badge of moral superiority. if you find out that you're lucky enough to not be oppressed, that indicates that fighting for the oppressed might occasionally involve making a personal sacrifice and going against your class interests, not that you should try to become oppressed lol.

at any rate, we can see how the whole ethos of Punk Indie DIY as an avenue for proletarian liberation has played out, and ultimately it's an individualist dead-end. the best-case scenario for, say, a DIY punk record label is signing other bands and becoming a regular record label. this ethos offers only the possibility of the *individual* to escape being an exploited proletarian by becoming bourgeoisie- but offers no collective lliberation for the proletariat as a class. we simply can't all quit our jobs and start a DIY punk record label. i wonder how the factory workers manufacturing vinyl records and cds for dischord records feel about the liberatory anti-capitalist potential of DIY.

it's funny how the ask presents the two options as either "indie zine creator" or "cartoon network employee"- if you love indie creative small businesses so much, why not work at one as an employee? what's that? you don't want to do grueling work for little pay for an emotionally unstable juvenile petty tyrant at their failing business? huh that's so weird, I thought artsy small businesses were widdle iddle little smol bean birthday boys who never exploited anyone. but in reality we all know that the 40-something with an undercut and doc martins will say "uhm, how is Anarcoffee Radical Cafe And Bookstore supposed to stay open if I pay my employees a living wage :/" to which all i have to say is quite simply that isn't my problem. it's not my job to help them justify exploiting working class people to keep their poorly run business open. "but did you know Anarcoffee Radical Cafe And Bookstore gives back to the community by hosting an open mic radical leftist slam poetry nigh-" don't care didn't ask. pay your employees.

anyhow i get pretty tired of pretentious bohemian trust fund kids who respond to learning about basic class analysis by going "tell me I'm good. tell me I'm good. tell me I'm good tellmei'mgood." I'm not going to tell you that. I'm not your fucking therapist.