#like i can not emphasize enough how much no one attempted to act in this. fr. it's like. painful to go through

[kalashtars]

lol lmao when the people in your performance group project didn't prepare AT ALL for anything so now you have to attempt to edit what you filmed into something vaguely watchable and it's Not Working

[dannnnnny666]

Day 12: Time Travel

“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.

A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!

Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.

The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.

“Why?” 

“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!

Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.

The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.

“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”

“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.

“Yes and no”

“Huh?” 

“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.

However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.

“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”

At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.

“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”

“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.

Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  

“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”

Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.

“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”

Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”

“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”

“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.

“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”

“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.

“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.

“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.

“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.

“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.

“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.

“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”

“Sure, that’ll work”

“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”

“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.

“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”

Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.

“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”

“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.

As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.

“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”

[ttsukiimi]

❛ I FVCKED MY BODYGUARD! ❜

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬  ⎯ Toji fushiguro is nothing but a bodyguard—or at least those are the words you keep telling everyone including yourself. But when you’re under him, moaning his name, can you really say that?

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬  ⎯ bodyguard!toji fushiguro x actress!reader, smut (mdni), n!pple sucking & n!pple play, implied size difference, slight manhandling, softdom! & bigd!ck!toji, unprotected sx, mentions of ichiji, reader referred to as (doll, baby, princess)

'Famous actress 'suki' ttsukiimi facing backlash after allegedly being seen in public holding hands with her bodyguard! Fans step forward with pictures as proof!'

Your eyes rolled as you saw the news headline, and you wondered if someone actually sat down and wrote it.

For starters, Toji Fushiguro was nothing more than your bodyguard—and, of course, he had to accompany you in public because that was his job! And, while the holding hands aspect appeared incriminating, he was merely doing it to keep you steady as you went through the crowd.

You made an effort to clear your head for the upcoming night, but your mood soured with bitter irritation. Thoughts of Toji suddenly sprang to mind as you were trying to declutter your mind. You couldn't help but wander off to the feeling of his big hand encasing your smaller one, the waft of his cologne into your nostrils as he walked beside you and tried his best to politely push people out of the way.

He was just perfect in every aspect—tall, muscular, intimidating, you couldn't count how many times you'd wanted a simple touch from him to lead to something else.

Your phone snapped you out of your daydreaming, the chime of your ringtone echoing throughout the almost empty hotel room. Quickly, almost embarrassingly so, you read the contact's name, and inwardly smiled to yourself. Just who you wanted.

"Hello?" your sugary voice rung throughout the speaker. Toji could feel himself heat up from your voice alone, imagining the way your plump lips moved as you talked, and he cleared his throat.

"We're waiting for you outside, doll. Hurry up, yeah?" he mumbled, letting his hand hang back on the car's headrest.

You let out an acknowledging hum, not daring to speak with the way you clenched your thighs together—his tone and the deepness of his voice alone sending a shock of electricity through you. Not to mention the pet name.

Soon enough, you met with Toji and your chauffer, Ichiji, outside. You'd made sure to wear something risqué, and both men were more than glad to gaze at you through their peripheral, though toji made no attempt to hide his staring. 

The ride to your wardrobe stylist was silent, save for a few impatient grumbles from toji on how long the ride was going to take. He could really act so immature sometimes.

୨୧

You stepped out of the room, velvet material clinging to your body like second skin and gleamed at Toji. "What do you think?"

His throat congealed with breath. You appeared breathtaking; the stylist having done a phenomenal job of selecting dresses that accentuate your complexion and emphasize your curves.

Toji gave a playful suck of his teeth. "Eh."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone on a nearby table and checked the time. It was almost time to get going.

"Tojii, please help me choose. Y'know I can't rely on Ichiji." That, however, was a lie; if anyone was aware of actress-appropriate style, it was him .You merely wanted a justification to continue showing Toji yourself in small little dresses. Not that he couldn't admit he liked watching you do that.

Once again, the scarred-lipped man sucked his teeth. "Go with the black one, with the back cutout, I guess."

୨୧

It was finally time for the nomination. Toji grinned to himself as he saw you on stage, light sparkling in your eyes, making you appear ethereal. You competed with other actresses for best of the year.

The announcer began to speak, her voice sweet, but not as much as yours, he reasoned. And it would be an understatement to say that Toji, and the entire audience, were upset not to hear your name.

"Who the fuck even is that?" he whispered under his breath, but his eyes softened as he noticed the smile on your face when you heard your name for the second time.

Everyone's eyes were drawn to you as you strutted over to receive your award, fascinated by the glow you emitted, and the audience erupted in cheers. Toji let out a small cheer just for you.

When the event was finally done and the paparazzi and bothersome interviewers had left, you let out a sigh of relief. Toji took your hand and guided you to the waiting limousine, opening the door for you.

You hoped this wouldn't cause another news headline.

"Thanks," you mumbled before succumbing to tiredness and falling asleep, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

When you awoke, you were comfortably positioned on your hotel room's bed, with the blankets warming your restless body. Your initial inclination was to search around for Toji, but there was no sign of him. You sprang out of bed and began searching for him, only to find him just as he was about to leave.

He tilted his head. "Did I wake you?"

You shook yours. "No, I—Can you stay?" The sentence slipped through your lips before you could catch it. Your eyes widened and your cheeks burned with embarrassment, even more so when you timidly looked up at him to find him smirking.

"Doll." he hummed, walking towards you, making you look at him with a finger under your chin. "When are ya gonna just say it?"

Your heartbeat skyrocketed, not only from the contact and closeness of his huge body, but also from the look on his face.

"If you wanna fuck just say that."

Your knees buckled under your weight, Toji catching you in his arms. You both looked at each other's lips and back up, and in his arms, you felt like you were under a trance.

Lips soon collided. One kiss led to a make-out session, and that led to you being manhandled and thrown onto the bed. Toji crawled on after you, the angry erection under his black slacks poking through.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Toji.."

He hushed you with a quick peck, the unfastening of his belt and zipper sounding throughout the room. "Open your legs."

His hands lit fires on your skin as he slid them down to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart and whistling at the wetness gathered on your folds. "You're soaked baby. Ain't even touched you yet."

You whined and looked away, breath hitching as he teasingly gathered your slick on the tip of his cock. Toji clenched his jaw as he pushed the head in, everything in him resisting from thrusting everything in—knowing how small you were compared to him.

Who knew he'd be fucking the person he was supposed to protect?

"Breathe, baby,"

Nodding, you tried your best to follow his order. But, when he started moving, you completely lost it.

Strings upon strings of moans poured from your mouth, your legs locking around his waist as he found a pace. And even though to you his pace was pleasurable and a bit too much simultaneously, he was holding back.

Toji hadn't fucked such a greedy cunt in years, with the way you were sucking him in, it felt like you wanted to suck him dry. He hit your sweet spot easily with each thrust, groaning as he snaked his hands up your torso and pulled the neckline of your dress down to reveal your tits to him. "Knew they were pretty."

He leaned his head down to suck on your pebbled nipples, driving his girth in and out of you painfully fast now. Switching his attention to your other nub, Toji rolled your previous nipple between his fingers as he suckled on it.

Your back arched up into his touch and gave him more access to your body. "'S too much!"

"You'll take it," he rasped into your ear, hitting the spot that had you seeing stars so effortlessly it felt criminal. Your vision filled with white and blurred, liquid heat rippling through your lower stomach.

You gasped as you hadn't felt such euphoria in years, your job not leaving much time for love affairs, or for any affairs at that.

"I Think 'm close,"

"Ya think, princess?" he chuckled, deep and booming in your ear, his rhythm cruel and harsh on your poor, sensitive pussy.

Toji could feel himself slowly being hurled towards the edge of his high, and he could feel yours too with the way you clamped extra tight down on him. 

"C'mon, baby. Cum on my cock." he ordered, and your body instantly complied with his words. Your back arched further off the sheets, a broken cry bubbling from deep within your chest as you climaxed.

Toji's high came teetering soon after yours, and he made quick work of pulling himself out and letting his seed spurt over your stomach and tits. Your bodies were both messy and sweaty, and he appreciated the sight under him.

You had completely soaked the sheets, and Toji took pride in knowing he was the one who made you.

With a drawn-out sigh, he plopped down beside you.

"You think they'll write news about this too?"

"So you also saw that, huh?"

[nkjemisin]

Hello NK Jemisin! I'm a huge fan of yours, and I wanted to thank you for writing all of the books you've written, and doing all that you do. You're really awesome and you are doing important work! :) I had a long question, if you have time to answer! What's your commentary on creating fantasy cultures, using real ones as inspiration? You've done this before in your stories, and I wanted to know if you had any guidance on doing it well. I'm writing my first novel right now (fantasy!) and am dealing with a surprising amount of guilt regarding using real cultures as a basis for my fake ones. On one hand, I want to create a really unique fantasy world, not the bog-standard European stuff. It's not only more interesting to me, but I also admittedly want to use my story to help introduce people to concepts that might be helpful in the real world, help readers understand what these real people go through and perhaps inspire change. On the OTHER hand, I don't know if it's 'my place' to do so (I'm Black btw, but I'm not just writing about Black-coded fantasy characters). And I'm worried about representing people in a harmful way, even if it's by accident. I'm even hung up about names! Should I use names from real languages related to the cultures I'm inspired by, or should I just make them up to emphasize that, while yes these people are clearly inspired by real cultures, they are ultimately *their own* thing. I'm really conflicted on this and am hoping you can offer some feedback and/or commentary. Sorry for the long ask. Either way, have a great day and I look forward to whatever work you do next!

If I can rephrase what you're saying here, it sounds like you're concerned about cultural appropriation -- specifically, which cultures you get to "borrow from" and "remix," how much remixing you can do before you've done damage, how to depict people from cultural backgrounds other than your own, etc.

If that's what you're asking, then there are whole schools of thought on how to "appropriate appropriately." A lot of thinking on this has evolved in the past few years, for good and for ill; Own Voices, for example. (The short version: the Own Voices hashtag movement started as a grassroots attempt to get marginalized voices telling the stories of their own cultures, because there's been a nasty trend of only white/Western/Anglophone/etc. authors publishing books about those cultures. The problem? Some publishers and readers started acting as if marginalized writers weren't allowed to do anything but stories in their own cultures -- a restriction, instead of an inclusion/correction. Worse, publishers, etc started using it as a marketing shorthand, in ways that were just... not good. They made it weird, basically.) But I'm still fond of the approach that's in Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. It's centered on ethnicity/race, but a lot of its approach can be extrapolated to culture. There's too much good stuff in this book to summarize it easily, but you should read it instead of a summary anyway -- it's short.

I don't see the point of guilt, when it comes to something like this. Guilt is what you feel when you've done something wrong, and admiring another culture enough to want to tell a story featuring it isn't wrong. However, there are things you need to do -- research, conversations, considerations of power dynamics -- to reduce the harm you might end up doing by telling that story as an outsider. And note that no matter what you do, though, you might still end up doing harm. (Even people writing about their own culture can end up doing that.) If you fuck up, apologize, figure out what went wrong, and try to do better next time. That's really all you can do.

And then write whatever the hell you want. There's a persistent pressure on Black writers to only cover certain subjects, certain settings; nah. We get to have range, too. You've just got to put in the work to do it well.

Good luck.

[grandlinedreams]

hiii i hope you’re having a great day/night!!

may i request a not really physically affectionate reader with zoro law or ace coming to them drunk being really excited and kissing&leaving lipstick marks all over their faces. it could be a hc type thing or whatever you like if you’re not comfortable w that!

also I absolutely love your writing ♥︎♥︎♥︎

hi there!! I hope that you're having a wonderful day/night too bb!! absolutely you can! This is my first attempt at a reaction type of post so I hope that this is to your liking!! and thank-you so much!!

[heads up!: mention of alcohol consumption, being drunk, tw for vomiting in Ace's]

Zoro ㅡ Alcohol is his forte, not yours. It isn't that you're opposed entirely to the idea of drinking, just that you're not as accustomed to it as he is ㅡ and as such, your tolerance for it (especially the stronger stuff) is not the strongest.

"Having fun?" He asks, amused by the flush of pink that's spread across your cheeks and bridge of your nose, the glossy, unfocused quality of your gaze. It'd been a playful challenge from Usopp that even he has higher tolerance than you and now the sharp-shooter is sprawled out a few feet away, fast asleep.

You nod enthusiastically, giggling when Zoro reaches to stop the unsteady bob with his hand. "Man, you're absolutely trashed," he comments. "We need to get you some water before you end up regretting this. Come on."

He reaches for your hand to help you up, steadying the way you sway before leading you towards the kitchen. You're still giggling when he guides you into a seat and retrieves a glass of water for you, pushing it towards you.

"Just how much did you have to drink, anyways?" He asks, reaching to thumb at your cheek affectionately ㅡ and watches you lean into it rather than pulling away. Affection is also far from something you normally indulge in very often, and he can't deny that it's nice to see this side of you.

"Not much," you answer at last, foggy mind finally registering Zoro's question, studying him for a moment. "C'mere." You add the forward curl of your hand to emphasize your words, pouting when he laughs. "I said c'mere!"

"Will you drink that water if I do?" Your head bobbles in a clumsy nod again and he leans forward to comply with your wish, only to blink as you lurch forward to press your lips to his cheek. They're cool and a little sticky, smelling of whatever alcohol you've drank ㅡ but you're on a determined self-imposed mission of peppering his face with kisses. It's a little silly with the way you add a verbal "mwah!" at the end of each one, but it still makes Zoro's own cheeks flush all the same.

"All done," you report when you finally sit back, satisfied with the little marks you've left across his skin, and you reach for the glass of water to drink it, as you'd promised. Zoro is silent for several moments. You won't remember this, he's almost certain ㅡ but now all he can think about is how cute you are when you drink.

ㅡ

Law ㅡ "I think that's enough for tonight." Nimble fingers pluck the half-finished glass of alcohol from your grip, ignoring your pout as he hands it off to Clione, who gladly downs it.

"Spoil-sport," you huff, and Law raises an eyebrow. It's not every day that he gets to witness you acting more like a child than adult, and he'll admit that the way you sulk is amusing.

"You'll thank me in the morning." He reaches for your wrist and gently tugs you up, relying on the fact that the others are in varying stages of inebriation to cover for him being so forward with you in front of the others.

He's already had a drink or two, though he stopped when Ikkaku pointed out that you'd been roped into a drinking game with some of the others. Guiding you to the bathroom, he leans in the doorway to watch you sway as you reluctantly ready yourself for bed, studying your own reddened cheeks in the mirror.

"I could've finished my drink," you tell him petulantly, and he watches you struggle to climb into bed. Another reason he's grateful that no one else will remember much about this evening ㅡ he doesn't need them knowing that it's been months since you last slept in the crew bunkhouse.

"I'm sure you could've, but I'm doing myself a favor when I'm the one who's going to have to look after you when you end up with a hangover." Hat tossed gently to the side, he moves to slip into bed beside you and frowns warily when he finds you eyeing him. "What is it? You're not going to throw up right now, are you?"

You shake your head and lean up, your lips on his cheek before he can ask what you're up to. Slow and a little clumsy, each kiss you press is intentional ㅡ his jaw, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead ㅡ and you giggle when you pull away to admire your handiwork. "Now you can't be grumpy," you tell him.

Your own perchance for physical affection is usually on par with his, but it's clear that however many drinks you've had have pushed aside your own personal boundaries.

"Aww, you're blushing!" You crow, and he scowls at the fit of giggles that follows. You're lucky that he loves you, and you're lucky that you're cute.

"Whatever," he grouses, reaching to cover your eyes with a hand. "Go to sleep. And don't puke in my bed, got it?"

ㅡ

Ace ㅡ "See? I told you this was a bad idea."

"Shut up," you groan, venom absent from your tone for the way you're forced to stop walking in order to halt the vicious spin of your head. "I don't drink much, you know that."

"I do," Ace agrees, "which is why I'm telling you it was a bad idea." He pauses, head tilting in thought. "Not gonna lie, it was hot to watch you drink them under the table, though. Who knew you had it in you, huh?"

He waits for you to answer and when you don't, he turns to find you half-way into an alley, emptying the contents of your stomach as quietly as you can. That kind of thing doesn't disgust Ace, however, and he hurries to rub your back until the shuddering heave of your body has stopped. "Feel better?"

"Much," you rasp, fumbling for the strap of your canteen and chugging from it greedily. Ace waits until you're satisfied that you've rinsed your mouth clean before he loops his arm around your waist and continues guiding you back towards the Moby Dick. "Still think I'm hot?"

"Absolutely, babe." Ace's answer is swift and as honest as it always is, which makes your heart do something funny as you turn to look at his side-profile. It doesn't take long for him to notice, his expression somewhere between confusion and concern as you come to a stop. "What is it? Gonna get sick again?"

You shake your head. "No, I just really want to kiss you right now." There's the answering spark of fire from Ace's fingers in response, though you take advantage of his momentary fluster to cup his face between your hands and promptly pepper his face with kisses.

Clustered over his freckles, the tip of his nose, eyebrows and even his eyelids, it's several long moments before you pull away. "There," you say, and Ace wonders if you're sober enough to realize his face has gone roughly the temperature of the sun from your burst of affection. "Come on, I wanna go to bed."

Ace lets you pull him along, still dazed by the lingering warmth of your lips on his skin. He goes to bed without washing his face, eager to soak in this side of you that's far less reserved with your affection ㅡ and when the men of his division point out in the morning that he has your lipstick dotted across his face, all he does is grin.

[ode2rin]

“it is because of your negligence that we're stuck here with each other,” you spat at him, the words laced with a bitter edge, and rin couldn't ignore the way you emphasized each word as if it were a weapon.

and from the way his chest was contracting against his ribcage, maybe they were indeed sharp knives out to get him. 

rin felt the weight of your accusation pressed against his chest, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings the two of you once exchanged beneath the sheets of love, where “i love you's” had been met with smiles, and the world had seemed so full of promise.

but now, things had taken a dark turn, and neither of you could pinpoint when or how it had all gone wrong. you wouldn't tell him– wouldn't let him turn things around.

rin's anger flared, his words escaping through clenched teeth. "my negligence? you're really pinning this on me, again?"

your eyes locked onto his, a warning in their depths. "don't go there."

he pushed on, relentless, “go where? you know i'm right. you always pin things against me.”

you didn’t respond , but you looked at rin in a way that made him want to fall on his knees and beg you — beg you to just tell him what more he can do for you to stop looking at him like this.

only if it was that easy, no — because it was a look of indifference, a look in your eyes that’s telling him none of his words were right anymore, and everything he says had not been good enough to attempt to fix things.

“let's just tell them we're done and leave this shitty reunion,” rin suggested with a note of finality.

“i should have known you'd suggest something as selfish as you,” you countered, shaking your head in disbelief. “this isn't about us. so don't you dare ruin this too, itoshi rin.”

the word ‘too’ hung in the air, a relentless echo that reverberated through the room, each syllable like a blade, cutting into rin's heart. it felt like a never-ending loop, a supercut of all he had lost and ruined - nights filled with piercing arguments, when your voices were raised until your throats ached, and the bed you had once shared had become a cold, lonely expanse. just how much of you had he shattered beyond the point of no return?

the ensuing silence was thick and suffocating, it enveloped the room, creating an atmosphere so tense you could almost hear the creaking of the floorboards under its weight. 

two old friends, once lovers, now trapped in a forced reunion getaway, compelled to act like a couple when their love had long since turned to ashes.

perhaps it was pride that you couldn’t admit it was partly your fault too. you should’ve told your friends about it the moment he took his things out of your shared apartment. there had been numerous chances, yet you clung to false hope, bargaining for a lost cause, and desperately wishing for a change that was never meant to be.

foolish. that's what it felt like - a foolish hope. you knew it was over the moment he couldn't bring himself to respond to your declaration that you were done.

“uhm, guys?”

as if on cue, isagi's head appeared at the slightly ajar door of your designated room,

“is everything fine? the tour guide is already downstairs, so…” he trailed off, his gaze shifting between you and rin, sensing the tension.

“we're—” rin began to say, but you immediately cut him off.

“everything's fine! just one of rin's moods,” you chimed in, forcing a smile as you turned towards isagi. “right, baby?” you said, addressing rin with a strained cheerfulness.

isagi chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the emotional maelstrom in the room. “must be it, then. i don't know how you dealt with that for five years, y/n.”

and there, amidst the oblivious laughter, it struck you. 

five years.

“yeah,” you admitted with a tinge of sadness, “five years of loving him would make you immune to it,” you thought, the words choking in your throat.

isagi, still in the dark, laughed lightly. “i guess so. we'll wait for you downstairs.” and with that, he left you alone with the relentless weight of your unresolved feelings.

for a moment, you and rin remained silent, but when you met his gaze, it was as though he wanted to ask a hundred different questions to comprehend what you meant about being immune to it.

but you beat him to the punch. “we'll tell them on our last day, and then pray to god that we never have to talk to each other again.” with that, you left rin to grapple with his thoughts, leaving the room heavy with the unspoken truth.

and right then and there, it struck him that the answer to when and how things had unraveled for both of you had been staring rin in the face all along. it was just that he wasn't ready to see it.

note. and i offer you: an excerpt from an idea i scraped :D

[sepublic]

So the jokes comparing Skar King to King Louie over their appearances, with a remix of I Wan’na Be like You playing in the background, are funny and all. But they’re also more true than most might realize???

In the Godzilla vs Kong novelization, it explains that the Great Apes were like any other titans in Hollow Earth… But then they became very intelligent. They got into groups, formed languages. They established hierarchies, made tools, created architecture… And also began enslaving other titans. They conquered and pillaged, expanded past their original roles in the ecosystem.

In essence, the Great Apes became too human. Which is a great way to build off of Kong showing how human he can be in that very film, which introduced his sign language, as well as emphasized that in Mothra’s absence only Kong can defend humanity. He’s always had a symbiotic relationship with the Iwi, and with the stereotype of apes and humans being alike, you could say Kong is the most human of our giant monsters.

So the inverse of that is fascinating to take into account as to why Godzilla fought with Kong’s ancestors, and blasted their empire back into the Stone Age as retaliation for the above-mentioned advancements, which in his eyes were transgressions; I dunno if humanity had already begun the same as the Great Apes, which came first, but one must’ve reminded Godzilla of the other. In fact maybe they evolved into civilizations alongside one another.

And that brings us to Godzilla x Kong and the introduction of Skar King, who is revealed as the original leader of the Great Apes that started that entire backstory. Adam Wingard described him as the most human of the Monsterverse Kaiju, in the worst way possible; He’s the dark reflection to Kong and us in that way. He wanted the Great Apes to become human; Maybe not in the sense that he was emulating us specifically, but in that he wanted to make his species act in all the ways associated with humanity. Dude even has a harem which hammers in how depraved he is.

And like any human leader, he’s not much on his own; But the armies he leads, the tools he has, the beasts he tames, that makes him dangerous. He is just a man in the end; Nothing without his followers and society. Skar King’s ambition in the past led to Godzilla knocking down the Great Apes a massive notch, which led to some fleeing to Skull Island; This sets Kong’s destiny in stone when the Skull Crawlers emerge there and kill his parents. The Godzilla-killing axe must’ve been created under Skar King’s rule, in fact he may have personally made and/or wielded it to begin with; Skar King could’ve recognized that weapon, and been reclaiming it when he first met Kong.

Skar King is responsible for Kong in a sense; To him, Kong is a feral child who just now has reconnected with society and begun to realize how intelligent he can really be; Hence the traps at the beginning of Godzilla x Kong. He’s a reverse Tarzan, funnily enough; Lost his parents and spent more time in the jungle with humans, who are his ‘apes’. Skar King created Kong, in other words his own downfall, just as he sired Suko who rebelled, enslaved Shimo who retaliated, crafted the axe that spelled his downfall, and angered Godzilla who fought back. Skar King made his own demise, he brought his kind to ruin in his attempts to control nature.

So when we go back to the comparisons with another red-haired ape who also wants to act human, in a very destructive way via mastering fire. Yeah I guess Skar King Louie really does wanna be like us.

[kyouka-supremacy]

hello!

I saw your recent post and you hinted that Atsushi is actually kinda twisted and that yoh don't agree with his morals?

If its alr with you, do you mind elaborating? ❤️

Alright, to be fair, I *am* self aware enough to realize a lot of what I say about Atsushi is probably fairly detached from canon. When push comes to shove, he's just a guy trying to get through. A polite dude. I like to stretch on how a lot of his well-mannered behaviour and his desperate attempt to prove himself good are moved by deeply selfish reasons of validating his own right to live, but that said, that doesn't make him inherently evil, either.

Atsushi's double morality is something that comes up a lot, so please check out these posts!! (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8). But overall... Is a good action that is done for deeply selfish reasons, still good? I'm not sure. But when I watched the anime for the first time, and in episode 8 it turned out that Atsushi was not helping the train passengers out of spontaneous inclination to help people in need, but rather just due to a self-interested aim to validate his own right to live... Idk, it didn't positively impress me? I was even less positively impacted by the later line “people can't live unless someone tells them ‘it's okay to go on’! ” The thing is, both scenes feel like more of the author's underlying worldviews that end up being conveyed through the series' protagonist, and that's a consideration to be made by its own– it's not an issue I have with Atsushi specifically, as much as me fundamentally disagreeing with most of bsd's perspectives on the world, as I've already said before.

But that doesn't change the fact that Atsushi is fundamentally selfish¹, does it? The difference is - I think - that for the author, more or less all people are, while to me no one is born selfish. But that still makes Atsushi not really morally virtuous, and I think that's narratively interesting to explore by its own!!! What if there was a character who only did good because (he thinks) that's the only way he has the right to live? What if there was someone who believed the right to live had to be owned in the first place? After having overcome the admittedly jarring sentiment I felt when first engaged with the character, I must admit those are some compelling concepts to explore, even despite disagreeing with the underlying morals.

At the end of the day, it's just a complex nature of the character? I like to emphasize on Atsushi's uncommendable selfishness especially as opposite to Akutagawa's hidden selflessness; but all said, a man who tries to do good despite it not being his first nature is a better man than any of us, isn't he?

¹ And Atsushi is profoundly selfish. I think that Beast in particular proves that he's ready to commit evil just as much as in canon he is to do good, if it's to pursue the goal of his own survival. The first thing we see him do, at the very start of the series, is, symbolically, contemplating robbing other people for his own survival (though in real life I would never judge someone's morality in life and death situations... But maybe since this is fiction, that can still hold narrative value). He will stop acting good as long as it's no longer required of him (each of his interactions with Akutagawa). Maybe it's a little pessimist way to interpret the manga, but perhaps still a consistent one?

[lampochkaart]

Kirumi

Little analysis⬇️

I don't think we talk enough about how manipulative Kirumi can be. When she was considered the main suspect, she began to lie, emphasizing that she always valued the needs of others more than her own. This is partly true, but in that situation she was not caring about THEM, but about other people. And in order to remove suspicion from herself (and make everyone vote incorrectly), she used any methods. She even tried to evoke pity by crying. But the dirtiest method she used was that she used Kaede's wish to convince them that she would never try to deceive them. She knew that this wish became a symbol of hope for the group, she knew that Kaede was very important to Shuichi, she knew that it was still very difficult for him to reveal the truth. But she used it to her advantage.

When she was found out and already chosen as the killer, Kirumi tried to force everyone to fight Monokuma for her (which would inevitably lead to someone's death), causing everyone to feel guilty towards the entire country for which she was responsible. And it almost worked.

But Kaito brought everyone to their senses with his speech that there is no such thing as the “price of life.” They can't just give their lives because "it's would be better that way". Their lives matter. " Life's purpose is to be lived". He firmly stated that he wanted to live, which was actually a very brave act, because people could've called him an egoist for putting his life before the lives of an entire nation. However, he was supported by... Kokichi. He brought the group's attention to what Kirumi was actually trying to do. He revealed that she planned to use them to escape. And she confirmed that he was right with her words.

Also how different her behavior was before this from how aggressive she becomes when she sees that her tactics didn't work (and at a couple of other points during the class trial when she was just starting to get accused).

I'm NOT trying to make her out to be a villain and say she's bad. But I don't like how this imperfect side of her character is often ignored. She is often positioned only as a selfless servant, which in my opinion is wrong. I DO NOT deny her selfless devotion, but I believe that the trial brought out another side of her. She really wanted to survive. She really wanted to get out. I believe that one of the reasons of her breakdown was due to the fact that she broke under the pressure of all the responsibility that was placed on her.

In the official manga, Kiyo analogizes their situation to a tradition called "jincan", where many poisonous insects are sealed in a jar and they begin to devour each other until only one insect remains. Kirumi reasons with him that if any being sees a chance to get out of the hell they are locked in, they will do anything to achieve this goal.

I love how Danganronpa often defies obvious expectations. Like, you expect Kirumi to become a killer because someone will use her and she won't be able to refuse because of her desire to serve. But in reality, she almost sacrificed the lives of the entire group in order to get out herself.

In conclusion, I think it is important to recognize Kirumi not only as a obedient Ultimate Servant, but also as a girl who desperately wants to live, who is ready to do ANYTHING to get out. She is ready to go to great lengths if necessary to achieve this goal.

Many of Kirumi's moments have a theme of surviving no matter what: her behavior at the Class Trial (the fact that she initially tried to frame Himiko, who can not stand up for herself), her manipulation at the end of the trial, her breakdown before her execution, execution itself, where she tries to escape so desperately that she climbs up a thorny vine through a tunnel, not stopping even when circular saws appear from the walls (her escape attempt was clearly part of the execution, Monokuma knew what she will try to do and made sure to cause her as much despair as possible, giving her hope of getting out).

She wanted to get out not only to continue to serve, but also because she just wanted to survive. She wanted to do something not only for the sake of others, but also for her own sake. Perhaps for the first time in her life.

I love seeing complex characters who have many sides and flaws. So I find it strange to see that sometimes Kirumi is only described as a obedient servant. She is so much more than that. This is exactly what I love about Kirumi, what makes her so interesting.

***

Uh, hey. I just wanted to ask if you would be intrested in seeing here more of my drv3 analysis (spoiler: most of them are ch 5 related). And if you are, should i make drawings to accompany them (like in the beginning of this post) or just post them as they are

[pelagaye]

red shoes on yellow brick

fandom: honkai star rail pairings: sampo, dan heng, gepard x reader summary: y/n is no dorothy but upon reaching the magical place of welt, y/n sees no issue in helping a number of its people. perhaps even providing them more than what they seek with how unique and charming this individual with red shoes on is. notes: tada! it's a wizard of oz au and may this first fic of mine be to your liking despite the length ehe i kinda had so much making it <3

it's a simple wish truly because when a big unwarranted tornado whisks you away from the comfort of your own residence, all you can want for is just to get back home.

seeing how troubled you've becoming, some lil chibi people who refers themselves as "the mole munchkins" that helped you earlier from the wreckage advises that you go meet a mighty powerful being that calls himself the wizard of welt who can grant any wish you long for.

sounding like a fairy godmother, it definitely captivated you so you might as well see what he's capable off.

the munchkins gives you a pair of red sandals they found on the sides, believing it can help you on the way to the wizard.

honestly, you'd trade the nice pair of red shows you now had on for the sake of getting back if you can.

bidding goodbye to the little fellas who told you to just follow the yellow brick road, you and your rabbit pompom begin the journey you didn't ask for the slightest.

here's to hoping the casts you meet along the way are nice.

sampo as the scarecrow

it is a long way to the place you had to be and the never-ending surface of yellow brick just had to emphasize that.

pompom hops around you indicating the both of you should rest before the pain comes through.

your home would still wait for you no matter what, right?

imagining of the place you yearn for, you notice how you ended up in the middle of a enormous cornfield of crops almost glistening like gold.

in between it all, is a scarecrow on a high pole that looks like it's attempting to do its job of shooing pesky birds away.

for something just made of old clothes and straw, the built of the figure was wide, as if he'd have muscles if he had to be human.

you, being the curious type can't help but stare longer than intended on the decoy figure, as there just seems to be so fascinating about it.

"take a photograph it'll last longer."

a voice shakes you from the trance.

when you try to find who it belongs to, there could only be one place-

looking at pompom before directing your eyes to the scarecrow, it winks at you, almost too naturally.

you inquire him how is able to talk and move.

swishing his threads of blue that acts likes bangs, he tells you if you can maybe bring him down he could explain more.

you find out his name is sampo, he asks what's a pretty person like you going to places like this cornfield.

ignoring the flattery, you share your plans to meet the wizard of welt to get back home.

sampo has no clue about the city you are to visit nor the person you seek.

it doesn't make sense to you that the man made of straw has no idea about the info you shared after the munchkins shared everyone knows about the wizard.

"maybe i can tag along? as a scarecrow with no brains, it might help me out. do you think the big shot can do that?"

sampo explains he's tired always being labeled as an idiot so how will he ever know much more if his head is filled with anything but a brain.

your sympathy gets to you first for some reason.

maybe it's the way how he holds your hands as he begs the question, or perhaps it's the way how he softly smiles as he towers in front of your small figure causing the lack of proximity.

"i'll ask the wizard for everything he can offer for you," you tell him.

sampo as a scarecrow, doesn't deny the determination in your voice, and he feels likes the straws in his stomach getting replaced with something else.

maybe he doesn't need a brain when your wit is enough to keep him afloat above any field.

dan heng as the tin man

ever since he was young, relatives and others have told dan heng he had no heart with the cold exterior persona the young man displays usually.

and with all the metal that's part of him to carry like a burden of his own predicament, dan heng could only accept their false accusations to not make the situation any worse than it already is.

just like in the og game, dan heng flees.

after all who wouldn't with that situation?

he comes across a pink haired girl who he eventually becomes accustomed to.

he tells her about his issues and his friend immediately perks up.

"oh??? then why not visit the wizard of welt??" march suggests.

and so he does, alone.

along the way, through the depths of the forest, he doesn't expect rain to happen.

this becomes an inconvenience to the tin man putting a stop to dan heng's expedition.

all because of a damn rain pour that causes him to rust.

there was no way of contacting march in any way and as much as he tries to budge, he remains where he is.

months might have already passed and dan heng could only reflect how much of a troubling life he got to experience.

that is until a pair of red shoes comes into his view.

the man made of tin cannot bring his head up to see who is messing with his parts but he prays to himself that the newcomers are simply just trying to help his pathetic position.

and next thing he knows, he's functioning again! what a surprise!

dan heng doesn't miss a second to offer his gratitude for the oil he was provided.

but before he even tries, he's taken aback by the beauty you hold as you were explaining you were just passing by with sampo the scarecrow with the help of the yellow brick road to get to the wizard. also explaining you were helping sampo in the process as you'd do anything for people in need.

"you have a beautiful heart," dan heng thinks to himself.

he is surprise to think of this coming from his own mind and seeing that he himself doesn't have one of his own.

at least, that's what he thought he has done as he fails to notice the creeping color of red on your face, matching the shoes you wore.

it fades quickly as dan heng humbly requests if he could come, practically silently pleading to whoever is listening that you accept.

thankfully, your kindness allows to agree.

the journey is much more bearable with your company after that.

everything you do in full willingness, even if it's the bare minimum, is enough to encourage dan heng to get that heart from the wizard of oz no matter what.

what he doesn't know, is that he has already gotten one from the fact he has unknowingly fell in love with you.

gepard as the cowardly lion

for someone who's supposedly a "vicious" "feline" with not much courage, it takes not even a fool to realize how much of a sweetheart gepard is.

at least, that was established after being ambushed by the big blonde whom tried to inflict fear on the current party you had going on.

poor pompom having to deal with the fact he was the main target being the smallest.

regardless of such attempt, gepard was secretly frighten by the unexpected retaliation lil pompom pulls back at him without much effort.

you, already exhausted enough from the bs sampo and dan heng does with each other, decides to put an end to the one sided battle going on with the lion and rabbit.

pompom, at long last, stops beating the poor feline and lets you do your thing with what you've already done with all the strays you've been picking up.

putting in his place by placing yourself in front of gepard, staring back into his blue eyes, you decided to execute the only idea you had.

you boop his nose, catching everyone off guard.

"you are nothing but a big coward," you tell him without missing a heartbeat.

still looking back at each other, gepard lets out a sigh of defeat.

"i am painfully aware of that," he frowns.

he explains that he's both a younger and older brother to two sisters whom he cares about so much and they're practically both the main reason why he wants to be much courageous.

he'd sacrifice everything for the sake of their safety, so until he learns a thing or two, he promises to not comeback to them until then.

so he tries to train himself by being scarier in some way or another.

even if it means attacking strangers out of the blue. what a big dumbie i am so in love with him.

"there are many things i can do and cannot. the very least thing i should attempt is prove to myself that i can find the heart and not be the coward i have been my whole life."

you're practically shaking inside hearing his chivalric sentiment.

while no longer a threat despite not being one in the first place, the honesty he holds convinces you to urge him to join your party.

unlike the other two, it's really you this time who's trying to appeal to gepard the idea of heading to the wizard of welt.

"is that right? you wish for me to come with your pack? that's very kind of you but wouldn't i just cause harm such as earlier?"

you tell him that as long as he can apologize to pompom, who seems to still hold a petty grudge, no hard feelings will remain.

gepard smiles at you softly, admiring the valor you've shown him even if it's in your way.

there's no way for him to decline your offer at this point.

he vows to keep you all safe no matter the dangers that'll try to stop, despite how scared he still is deep inside.

you hug him immediately without much thought when he expresses his confirmation.

it's extremely bold of you, yes, but gepard doesn't mind.

he hopes he can return it asap when he gains the courage he hopes for.

[diodellet]

keep the dress on (simeon x gn!reader)

i saw @devilllain's art of simeon in a maid dress and got possessed. (GIVE EM LOTS OF LOVE FOR THEIR ART GO OVER TO THEIR BLOG NOW RIGHT NOW!!) fucc man, i just love...men in fem clothing... the range,,, the POWER iT JUS BRINGS ME TO MY KNEES 😩😩 content warnings under the cut: nothing? it's just pwp ++crossdressing, dominant reader+giving oral sex, flustered simeon, mild jealousy and possessiveness from the reader, implied jealousy from the sinblings, praise kink, mild maid and master kink word count: 2.2k words minors do not interact

"Holy shit." Your gaze first settles on the sleeves of his dress. Seeing him in sleeves—puffy ones at that—was something that made you pause, where were his bare shoulders—You take in the way the longer ends were folded up to his elbows. He seems to have foregone his usual choice of gloves, settling for a shorter pair that leaves half of his palms uncovered. The front of his dress is neatly pressed, pristinely buttoned up, ending in a long skirt that reached below his knees. Not a single crease or wrinkle can be found, save for the frilly ruffles that adorn the edges of his sleeves and the dress' collar. The dress is complemented with a white apron layered atop it, you bet that the straps are tied into a simple bow at his back. Lastly, for his footwear, he only wore a pair of black shoes with square heels.

Your eyes tear up to see—oh, he was also wearing mismatching legwear, a thigh-high stocking and a knee-length sock held in place with a garter strap. You want to feel a hand up his legs—Simeon's serene smile falling at your words. "Language!" he scolds you. The tone he uses is enough to snap you out of your stupor.

"I'm sorry! It just slipped out!" you protest. Your fingers tug at the collar of your shirt, suddenly feeling heat creep upwards along the sides of your neck.

He never really admonished your predilection for crass language, but seeing as how you were in the presence of Luke and Solomon, you swallow back the reflexive curse that threatened to accompany your apology. Instead, your other hand fidgets with the hem of your shirt. Itching for a way to dispel the jitters that settled into your veins.

"Simeon! I'm not a kid anymore!" Luke huffs.

You spare a furtive glance to Solomon and Simeon, the former giving you an empathetic look while the latter's frown deepened. Sure, Luke might've been hundreds of years old, but Simeon would've had your head if you acted anything less like a decent adult in front of the younger angel.

"No, it-it's really my fault." The heat spreads to the tips of your ears, more out of shame than embarrassment. "I shouldn't have said that bad word, sorry, I'm sorry—What's with the getup, by the way?" You make a feeble attempt to divert the conversation.

An attempt which Solomon gladly extends an olive branch towards. "He's going to be helping the student council with a costume café this afternoon, didn't they tell you about it?"

"I don't think so?" Your head tilts to the side in confusion. You would've heard about it by now, knowing how much Asmo or Levi freely talked about their daily life on social media.

"I bet Lucifer cursed his brothers from talking about it." Luke says, crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture does little to emphasize his anger, on a normal day you would have poked fun at his expression. But there's a grain of plausibility to his words that strikes up a flare of jealousy inside you.

"Hm, maybe." Solomon shrugs, before giving you a knowing look. "But I don't think that's the only reason he'd do so."

A strangled noise erupts from your throat, which you try to play off as a cough. "Don't-don't ask me, I only found out today!" You hold your hands out in front of you defensively. Your cheeks were burning. This entire situation was unfair. You were going to get back at Lucifer. And your other pacts for not telling you about this.

To you gratitude (and simultaneous dismay), Simeon cuts in to say, "Well, you're still free to drop by later. My shift isn't until two, and it'll end a quarter to three."

And with that, the Purgatory Hall residents walk away. The sound of Simeon's heels clicking against the pavement grows fainter and fainter. You are left alone with that maddening polite smile and your less-than-savory thoguhts.

Taking out your D.D.D., you send a message to Solomon and march off in the direction they went towards. And they didn't even bother to tell you where it was being held, the nerve!

[...]

The first thing you do is back him up against the wall of the supply closet, pulling him into a feverish-open mouthed kiss. The surprised moan that tears itself from his throat sends you spiraling further down your need. Your hand hikes up to cup the back of his neck, you drink in every hitched breath, every plaintive whine.

Which he earnestly reciprocates, kissing you back with just as much fervor. One of his hands searches for yours and interlaces your fingers together.

That one hour of waiting was torture. Watching him move from table table, greeting cafe goers with a bright smile and hearing his pleasant voice call them 'Master.' It was an hour of agony, made worse with being pestered by the the demon brothers to try at least one of everything on the menu, to take pictures of everyone—which of course!—turned into painstaking group photos that were more effort to coordinate than they were worth taking.

But that was in the past. You can afford to let your jealousy dissipate, just a little bit.

Pulling away, you ask, "where'd you get the dress?"

There's a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, and you catch the way his throat bobs as he gathers his words. "Leviathan lent it to me... th-the shoes are from Asmo..." You feel him tense up as your other hand slips under his skirt, feeling up the side of his thigh.

You let out a low whistle. Silk. That meant everything else—the gloves and stockings—was his. "I bet they had fun dressing you up, didn't they? Probably spent the whole day trying on dozens of outfits, huh?"

"...there were a few, yes. I thought you...would like this best..." That meant someone from your pacts let this—that you were into this kind of thing—slip.

You have a few guesses as to who that could have been. "Mm, you thought right—will you hold your skirt up?"

He obeys, gathering the layers of fabric and hiking them up. Dropping to your knees you press your palms against his thighs, feeling them tremble. They're not shaking from exertion, the type of heels he was wearing guaranteed more comfort than wearing stilettos. Even if he was on his feet for almost an hour, you are sure that you're the reason he was shaking with anticipation.

You hear him call your name. Flicking your gaze up to meet his, your fingertips are hooked into the waistband of his underwear, a few scant centimeters away from freeing his cock. "Levi said he—" The edge of your nail grazes against the sensitive skin, eliciting another shiver. "—h-he wanted this returned...intact..."

You roll your eyes, leave the unrealistic expectations to the third-born. "Okay," you reply.

A bunch of the skirt falls against your face, Simeon's hand finds your shoulder. "I'm serious—" he warns.

You don't let him finish that threat, you were the one in control right now. Knocking his hand away, you yank his underwear down and lick up his shaft. "What'd I say about the skirt, angel?" It's a small gesture, but you have him so wrapped around your finger that his hips reflexively cant up to chase the sensation of your tongue.

"Hah—I-I'm serious..." His authoritative tone weakens as your tongue catches a pearl of precum leaking from the tip.

"I know, I know, just keep your legs spread and stand still." His skirt is pulled away from your field of view, granting you the sight of his flustered form. "And no more touching."

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. Growing fluster and mild irritation are warring in his eyes, but in spite of all that going on in his mind, you can feel him growing harder in your palm. Feel his navel rising and falling in trepidation. "Okay, no touching." His fingers flex, bunching up and creasing the skirt's fabric even more.

"What else did I tell you?" You lean closer, trace circles along his inner thigh with your fingers. Letting the puff of your breath ghost along his cock.

"To-to keep my legs apart..." More precum leaks from the tip.

Your finger swipes at his arousal, dampening the pad of the digit. "Mhm, go on..."

"And to—" You pull away right when he jolts at the feeling of your slicked palm gliding up and down his dick. What you would give to hear that needy noise again. "—keep still..."

"Yep, that's right....good." Your voice lowers and you finally, finally take him into your mouth.

The moan that spills from Simeon is downright sinful, you feel his knees about to buckle from the welcome stimulation. His breathing is growing ragged, but he's got his mouth clamped shut to stifle any more accidental noises. Your own arousal is building between your legs, but your focus stays on servicing Simeon with your hands and tongue. You can feel a mix of spit and arousal running down your chin, but you're too far gone to care, too mesmerized at the sight of Simeon falling deeper and deeper into pleasure.

When your jaw starts to ache, your hand curls into a fist to stroke the heated flesh. Making sure to catch the sensitive underside of his dick, to tease the tip with the flat of your palm. Every involuntary shake and twitch, every soft whine from him fills you with a heady mix of arousal. You have to give him credit for listening to you in spite of his growing impatience. "You're doing so well for me, angel."

His voice wavers. "I'm... ngh... getting close..."

Relaxing your throat, you swallow his length. Your palms brace themselves against his inner thighs. The gesture elicits a loud whine from him. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you feel your throat seize up in momentary panic. More drool slips down your chin, spilling onto your shirt. A hand cards through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You glance up at Simeon and his hand pulls away a moment too late—

Didn't I tell you not to touch me?

You set a punishing pace against him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard. Your ears are filled with a litany of praises and gratitude, mixed with the sounds of his moans pitching higher and higher as he draws closer to release. Your head is filled with the thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the squelch of your saliva as you fellate him. His hips rut into the heat of your mouth, meeting the bobs of your head. "Hah... Master, I-I'm going to—"

A surprised moan escapes you when you feel his cock twitch before spilling his seed down your throat. Your nails dig crescent marks into the skin of his thighs.

Still, you swallow. You did promise that he would get to return the dress intact.

You pull away from his softening cock to catch your breath. Simeon looks utterly debauched, and you're sure that you look just as mussed up.

A beat of silence passes.

"So...'Master,' huh?" His head turns away to avoid your inquisitive gaze. You can't help the laugh that escapes from you.

Simeon weakly protests, stammering, "it just... slipped out, I guess..."

That didn't sound like an accident. You wonder if he merely put on the maid act in preparation for this event or if there was something deeper—perhaps subconscious?—behind his use of the title.

"I'm gonna ask Levi to let you keep this dress—no, scratch that. I'm telling him you're keeping it." Taking out a handkerchief, you wipe at your mouth, at some of the mess along his thighs and groin. You savor the reflexive twitch from his oversensitive nerves and the way his hold on your wrist tightens for a mere fraction, before helping Simeon stand. When you think that he can keep himself upright, you busy yourself with smoothing out his dress.

"Huh, why?"

He shudders again as you retie the straps of his apron. Your hands splay against his lower back as you consider your next words.

"Because I want you to fuck me while wearing it."

He meets your bluntness with a moment of stunned silence and fragmented words. "O-oh, um...okay—" His response tapers off into a surprised moan as your fingers press an appreciative squeeze into his waist.

From your position, you're lower than him, bending down to help fix the underlayers of his skirt. So far it seems passable, but he probably has to double-check in front of a mirror, make sure that there's no trace of your illicit activities before his second shift. At least, on his person.

Straightening up, you guide him to look at you with the tips of your fingers resting on his chin. Your touch is gentle, but your tone of voice leaves no room for argument. "Once Lucifer's stupid fundraiser café thing ends, you better come to my room wearing this. Got that, angel?"

You hear him audibly swallow. "Yes." But he still holds your gaze.

"Yes, what?"

The words are uttered in a low voice, you have to strain to hear them. "Yes, Master." His cheeks heat up underneath your palm.

"Good." He isn't one of your pacts, but that made his willing subservience all the more precious.

FOR ONCE FOR ONCE I CAN FINALLY SLAP DOM!READER ON THIS AS A TAG AAAHHH i'm still weighing if i have the spoons to put together a continuation? if i do, im gonna say right now that it won't be posted any time soon. devilllain's art was just powerful enough to draw out 2k-ish words for this lmao dont be afraid to rb and holler in the tags! any comment, no matter how simple, is enough to make my day💕💕

[gerhardtz]

Hiii I was just thinking about how we don’t get to see Rye and Simone interact and I couldn’t decide whether I thought they would get along and he would encourage her acting out since he probably related to her a lot with being treated as lesser than by the family and to piss off Dodd or whether he would chastise her like the others do as an attempt to emphasize his higher status in the family compared to her with him being Otto’s son and male and all that and then I thought I bet tumblr user gerhardtz has thoughts about this !

YESSS YESYEYSYEYSYES I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS SOOOO MUCH !!!!! their dynamic is sooo interesting to me, i've genuinely ranted to one of my irls for 30 minutes straight about them LMAO

i personally like to think that they were quite close and that he encourages her acting out, mostly because i see a lot of parallels between them in the way they act so it's clear he's had a pretty big influence on her. re: they both do cocaine before a delicate and important discussion and then proceed to fumble it COMPLETELY. among other things. like uncle like niece. also given the way dodd treats him, i'm sure he takes great joy in seeing him freak out over the shit they get up to LMAO

i also don't think he'd pass up the opportunity to actually have, like, a family member who he can relate to. so i doubt he'd try to put her down to bring himself up when he made it pretty clear in his opening scene that he doesn't see himself as deserving of praise. plus i doubt simone would hang out with him if he treated her badly – if they talk enough for floyd to know he tells her things he doesnt tell the rest of the family, it's safe to assume she at least tolerated him lol. one thing that briefly made me reconsider was the way she didn't seem to care when mike said rye might be "gone for good", but i pretty much chalked that up to her a) being high and b) not wanting to think about that but also not wanting to be vulnerable, so resorting to pretending not to care.

i like to think i'm pretty well versed on rye as a character ??? i know he's only got like 20 minutes of screen-time but from context clues in the way his family talk about him + the way he was framed in episode 1, i actually managed to write an academic essay on the guy haha. i think that maybe qualifies me to ryepost as much as i do. maybe. or i'm delusional and making shit up. either way i like him and i like simone and i think they're buddies :>

[zalrb]

I know Steroline is just a flop but it still bother's me that they make Stefan ooc with how he gave Caroline a shitty snow globe for Secret Santa and having Damon TELL him about Caroline like Stefan wouldn't know and DAMON would? And the lame ass proposal. Stefan Salvatore? Hopeless romantic, compassionate, sentimental, intimate, intense Stefan Salvatore? Okay guys. Like, I MISSED Stefan in the later seasons so much because he was mostly a shell of himself with a few glimmers of og Stefan.

OK. I'm of two minds about this.

When I was watching it in real time, I agreed with you. There are a lot of rants about how OOC I found Stefan

But thinking about it, looking at the whole chessboard, I don't think that's actually true. There are a lot of issues with Steroline but Stefan not being Stefan isn't one of them.

There are certain things definitely that I can't abide like Damon explaining Caroline to Stefan. Or the snow globe because at that point in time, Stefan would've been with Elena, but, I also have to say, Steroline isn't Stelena and that contextualizes a lot, because I keep saying it, Stefan and Elena were built as a pair and that allows for certain traits to shine.

So, for instance, Stefan being on the run for three years and writing Caroline a letter every day is technically speaking being romantic and sentimental and intense but

a) it's not believable because there are so many issues in that relationship where neither Stefan nor Caroline communicate with each other, they both communicate more with Valerie than one another and Caroline communicated more with Alaric than with Stefan (see masterlist)

b) Paul and Candice didn't have the romantic chemistry needed

c) Caroline sends the letters back.

She doesn't even read them and then complains about him abandoning her despite the fact that he kept reaching out to her

and that's a perfectly valid response but that wouldn't have been Stelena. Stefan calls Elena and doesn't say a word but she knows it's him

and the very next episode she's got on her inappropriate-for-hiking shorts and searches for him in the woods, coming face to face with werewolves for him

which emphasizes how much an intimate gesture calling her was.

And granted, Caroline has kids so she can't do that, she can't up and go, she has different priorities but there isn't that implicit understanding between them where Caroline would understand why Stefan would leave in the first place or if she does understand, it's not enough, which means sending the letters is really just a futile attempt at something rather than an expression of intimacy and longing.

The show tries to give that understanding to them in the series finale

but I don't know, that's kind of overshadowed to me by the fact that Stefan's last goodbye before leaving the world is to Elena and it's more intimate than his goodbye to Caroline

Stefan sells his soul for the twins

and I get what they were trying to do with Caroline's response like "no, no, no you can't leave me, we're starting a life, and I can't lose you, I can't lose that"

but Caroline's indignation doesn't play very well and I'll get to what I mean later.

Stefan goes into the tomb for Jeremy

and Elena races to run in after him that Damon has to slam her against a wall

and she literally tries to fight him so she can go into the tomb

that raises the stakes of what Stefan has done to protect an innocent who happens to be her brother.

When Stefan is human and decides that he wants to leave so he can atone, so her life can be better, Caroline is pissed, she's all but I've stood by you through everything, this is bullshit

and again, her being indignant is valid and obviously she knows why he's doing it, but the tone and Candice's read on the whole thing and the "how dare you do this to me" quality of the conversation also feels like Caroline not understanding just who she's engaged to.

Elena calls Stefan out in 1x10 where she's like, don't act as if you're doing for this for me when I'm not the one who wants this

but she's not berating him, she's being vulnerable which then emphasizes his vulnerability, emphasizes what he's wrestling with, emphasizes how deeply he feels things

So effectively, my point is that Elena's reactions to Stefan's actions amp up Stefan's romance and compassion and intimacy and intensity because the show let's it breathe, let's us revel in it, let's us really see it.

It also helps that Stelena actually had chemistry so when they have their intimate moments it isn't awkward and the romance and the intimacy and the intensity come out the way they're meant to. Like, 7x05 is supposed to show that Stefan knows Caroline so well but they don't feel natural that I don't believe the scene

this, though I believe

and it also helps that SE's relationship wasn't riddled with the same amount of fundamental problems that SC's was -- again see the masterlist.

[sixofcrowdaydreams]

There's a handful of reasons I relate to Wylan so strongly, but one of them has to be the unique experience of being an illiterate adult.

A few years ago, right before the pandemic, I moved across the world to work in a country where I didn't speak the main language. None of the languages commonly spoken in my new home uses the Latin alphabet so attempting to read and pronounce any letters/words in an unfamiliar writing system has been difficult.

Just don't be ignorant, you might think. Learn the language! For the record, I did. Well, I started to, but then the pandemic hit. My language class stopped and strict quarantines limited opportunities to practice. Two years and two babies later the world opened back up. Work and my tiny dictators, I mean, toddlers have kept me too busy to throw myself into learning the language with the gusto I once had. But over the years I've learned enough to get by with basic pleasantries: hello, goodbye, thank you, yes, no. Numbers 1-10. And how to order food at a restaurant. "How are you?" "Good." Unfortunately, that’s the limited extent of my conversational abilities.

The alphabet still trips me up and I often feel like a kindergartner slowly stringing syllables together and incorrectly sounding out words. Plus, there's the bonus of pronouncing the words but still not knowing they actually mean.

So I relate to Wylan a little bit in having to navigate the world at a disadvantage, one he cannot fully understand. Luckily for Wylan he can speak even though he can’t read, which gives him more coping strategies than are available to me. But you don’t realize just how much is written, especially in the modern world, until you are unable to read it.

Being an illiterate adult is a humbling experience. I cannot emphasize that enough. Book Wylan is a teenager, but was thrown into the “real world” and left to fend for himself as if he were an adult. Show Wylan is an illiterate adult who was also more or less thrown into the wild world. And I’d like to imagine that he shares similar illiterate adult encounters and experiences with me.

There isn’t a moment that I forget that I can’t read the language around me. However, it’s very easy to tune out the writing. To be blind to it and not see signs or labels because my brain stops looking for them, unable to to understand them.

Getting lost. Knowing the name of the place, a building, an address, the street that I'm searching for, but not being able to locate it by sight even though it is right there.

Walking past shops and stores unable to read their name and wondering what’s inside. What do they sell? What business do they hold? There’s no way of knowing unless I go inside myself.

Shopping and buying items based on the image on the packaging. Trying to figure out if there’s any difference between two items. Occasionally guessing wrong, buying the wrong thing.

Need instructions? Written directions (like for cooking)? Lol, Guess I'm going to wing it and hope for the best.

Being unable to read a written menu and ordering something generic because the restaurant probably serves it.

Putting off chores that require using the skill I don't have.

Having to act overly polite to everyone (regardless of how I feel) because I am the inconvenience when everyone else is just living their normal life.

Being treated like a child because, in my inability to read, I have the skills of a child so people will treat me the same way they would a child. And worse, all the while still having to act so polite about it because again, I am the inconvenience, even though I am being spoken down to like a child.

Accidentally, unintentionally being rude because I can't follow the sign's directions.

Pretending that I can read (or speak). Sometimes nodding along and agreeing with without any context is easier than a admitting I don't have a clue what's happening.

And in the modern day... I rely heavily on my cell phone to translate the way Wylan would use speech to text features. And there are times when there's no cell service, the phone or app stop working correctly. The translations/transcriptions are imperfect and confusing. It's scary when those safety nets stop working.

So yeah, being an illiterate adult is quite the experience. It can be exhausting. I am incredibly lucky that in my case it's due to living in a multicultural world and that given the time and patience, I could became literate and fluent in another language. The entire experience gives quite the insight on the hurdles and experiences Wylan might face.

[bleedgreenblood]

Every time you post about avoiding certain types of relationships, it makes my heart drop because I know deep down it’s describing my relationship with my bf. We’ve been together for almost four years, and because there’s been no drama or craziness, I’ve told myself that we’re happy. But the longer it goes on the less I feel like it’s a relationship that will ever go the places I want it to go. Idk if it’s because I let so much stuff slide at first because I didn’t want to rush things or crowd him, but truth be told we’re really just living separate lives and calling it love. Meanwhile I can’t remember the last time he REALLY wanted to talk to me or make plans with me or care about me in any way that wasn’t somehow for his benefit like a lot of your posts say. I don’t know why or how this is all hitting me now, and I feel bad because it’s not like he’s suddenly acting different. But then any attempt I’ve made to talk to him about our relationship, he either says two words that breeze past the problem or he gets defensive. Hard as it is, I feel like we just aren’t right for each other but it’s also hard to think about walking away because I do love him and used to think he was my forever. Do you have any advice?

Hi, anon! Firstly, I’m humbled that you’ve found my insight valuable enough to trust me with such a personal problem, and I’m happy to provide guidance if you think it would be helpful. Before I proceed, I want to emphasize that my opinion here should of course be taken with a grain of salt, as we don’t know each other (to my knowledge, lol), and therefore my feedback is based on this very high-level summary of your relationship. But since you're asking, buckle in, because I do have a lot to say about this.

My bottom-line takeaway is that it does sound like your relationship has run its course, and even though it (respectfully) sounds like you agree with this on some level, I’m still really sorry, because I know that doesn't make it any less difficult. I’ve been there myself, and can very much relate to that painful and confusing moment where you realize that someone you once saw a future with may not be the right fit for you after all. For whatever it’s worth, I promise you’re not alone in this situation.

One of the hard things about starting a relationship at a formative time in our lives is that we often don’t know how to start real conversations about, or how to look for, fundamental compatibility with another person. We instead allow ourselves to get swept up in surface-level attraction, i.e. finding the other person good looking, creating fantasies of what a relationship would look like based on our own and the other person’s desires versus what they’re actually showing us they’re capable of, and attaching an inflated sense of importance to common interests (Example: "We both love Game of Thrones and going to breweries," which, sure, are fun things to share, but don’t speak to true compatibility in any way). Healthy relationships are built on several key pillars, such as communication, compromise, quality time, and effort, and since there are a myriad of ways to do (or not do) any of the above, it’s critical to have real conversations about whether the way you each approach those pillars are compatible with one another.

When we don’t enter relationships with this level of intentionality, the problem is that time and circumstances inevitably put the relationship – which unbeknownst to us, has a fairly shallow foundation – to the test, so it’s easy for this sudden realization of glaring incompatibility to “sneak up on us".

This makes it even more natural to yearn for “the way things used to be”, and therefore to then hold out hope that perhaps things will “return” to a state where things still "felt okay" if given enough time. But two things on that: 1. Time on its own doesn’t do or count for shit, quite frankly. The only thing something "lasting" over time requires is complacency and stagnancy, so "giving something time" without any action, conversation, or change, is not a testament to something working out. And 2. The likelihood that a relationship will ever “go back to the way it used to be” is virtually impossible, for many reasons.

For starters, you’ve both since changed in some way – if not in hundreds of little ways – since you first got together, so neither of you is going to just suddenly revert to who you "used to be". that's not how time or human nature work. Secondly, we tend to romanticize “the way things used to be” because we associate that time with ourselves being happier in the relationship, but often, if we were to look at things critically, we'd find that the relationship/our partner truly wasn’t all that different or "better" during this time. For example, is it really a new thing that your partner isn’t: communicating with you openly, expressing an interest in the things that are important to you, carving out quality time for the two of you, consistently supporting you, etc. – or can you look back and observe a long-standing pattern of these behaviors? I think our knee-jerk reaction is to say, “Well, of course they used to do those things, otherwise why would it be bothering me now, but not before?” The answer is "simple”: because your standards, needs, or your awareness of your own needs, have elevated.

It’s completely normal, and healthy, for your needs and standards to evolve, change, and elevate over the course of your life. Unfortunately for relationships that were started while you were still getting to know yourself and your needs, especially relationships that were rooted more in attraction or those superficial commonalities, there’s a good chance that your needs will outgrow what the relationship is – and was ever – truly capable of. Maybe it was acceptable to the version of you 4 years ago that your partner fit you in their schedule as he found the time, but now you want a partner who eagerly prioritizes you. Maybe it was acceptable to the version of you 4 years ago that you and your partner only shared surface-level attraction, i.e. sexual chemistry and similar taste in TV/hobbies, but now you crave a more substantial connection rooted in intellect and communication. Maybe it was acceptable to the version of you 4 years ago that you and your partner had different levels of desire to spend time together, but now you want a relationship where quality time is key. It is in no way wrong for your needs and standards for a happy relationship to evolve as you evolve as a person; and frankly, he's not "wrong" to have his needs and standards, either, as some people truly are content and comfortable with having a surface-level attachment they can leave on the back burner while they live their lives primarily for themselves. So, it's not a matter of who is right and who is wrong; it's a matter of "are you two compatible?"

Now, if you look back and feel like your partner truly did used to meet the needs you feel are currently unmet – i.e. open communication, a vested interest in your hobbies and passions, eagerly making time for you, providing you with support – this also doesn’t fare well for the health of your relationship, because it suggests that either, 1. These actions were in some way performative - meaning that he only put in a certain degree of effort until he was certain he “had you”, at which point he elected to stop trying so hard because he felt he could get away with it, or 2. That these actions are inconsistent and conditional – meaning that he communicates with, supports you, and makes time for you when it's easy or convenient for him. While this "me first" approach might work for some couples, I personally believe that relationships built to thrive and last aren't about living your life for yourself and hoping your partner interferes with your personal best interest as little as possible. It takes collaboration around those aforementioned pillars -- perhaps most importantly, communication -- which, according to you, he will not meet you halfway on, despite your attempts.

When we choose to communicate, or not to communicate, we're really answering a question of, "Do I care about and respect this person’s needs and feelings, and the health of our relationship, enough to put in the time and effort to talk things out, even if it means stepping outside of my comfort zone, making myself vulnerable, and having difficult conversations?" So, to me, choosing not to communicate is not only a detriment to a healthy relationship, but it’s a sign of selfishness and disrespect. We call our partners our “significant others” for a reason – because this person should be significant from all others in providing us with a certain level of care, support, company, and conversation. If you find yourself unable to turn to your boyfriend for those things, I just can’t see how he could possibly fill that very important, special role in your life.

Relationships, like anything else worth having in life, need to be earned. No one is entitled to a place in your life simply because they've been there for a while, because they used to meet your standards, or even because you care about or love one another. As hard of a truth as it is to accept, love alone is never enough to carry a relationship, because for some people, love is just a feeling they have for you, or for the benefits you add to their life. Real, lasting love is actionable. It knows, sees, and understands you as you are. It wants to spend time with you. It seeks ways to support you. It desires to build something lasting with and for you.

I'm so sorry that it sounds like this relationship doesn’t have the longevity you hoped it did. But I do truly believe that the while pain of losing the attachment is real, it is temporary — however, the pain of your needs and standards not being met over time will only grow, wear you down, and rob you of the opportunity to meet someone who will meet your needs and standards. And the right person won't make you wonder, beg, wait, or hope for their affection, attention, support, or communication. You are worthy of having your needs met. Read that again. You. Are. Worthy.

[ilynpilled]

I love this question that Theon enjoyers keep touching on: why exactly are you still going? A question relevant to a lot of characters. And I have talked about this too w Jaime bc George very deliberately makes it so he loses everything that made him feel alive, that made him even want to live (not enough, certainly, considering how much passive suicidal ideation he does and how ready he is to throw his life away when given the chance) and he does have a moment where he ponders the “why?” after a massive crisis: Why would the stars want to look down on such as me? Brienne answers his question in a desperate attempt to make him keep going. His takeaway is to live and keep fighting for his loved ones and a chance for revenge, as per Brienne’s words. It makes him push through. Then, once he achieves his goal, once he returns, the whole thing falls apart. He loses his loved ones in different ways, and revenge is a dead end. But a key thing remains:

“What else can I do, but die?”

“Live,” she said, “live, and fight”

I think I came to a conclusion on how this whole question of “why exactly do we keep pushing forward” is explored with Jaime in specific. Like the answer to this question in his mind. I think death is so interesting with him. He is not afraid of it in the literal sense bc he rushes into suicide too easily and without hesitation, but I think he is terrified of it in the abstract sense as per his dream. Because it does mean it is all over. Death in the abstract sense always surrounds him. The bear, Ilyn, Cersei (the stranger), Stoneheart. His past self (the arakh and the moon symbolism is deliberate). The ghosts. Like death means the death of possibility, the thing George keeps mentioning in interviews about him, the death of the flames. And I think the answer to why he keeps living atp is to fight. Fighting as a whole is redefined. Fighting used to be so physical, like sex, it was about losing the self in the act, like the dissociative qualities of it is always emphasized with him. Jaime pre-ASoS was about stagnation. There is a reason he is in chains and in a dark cell for most of ACoK. It was about escaping the self and locking it away instead of confronting it. And he keeps thinking he can only be alive then. He says to Cersei he is only alive when he is fucking or fighting. I question that bc he was so disconnected from the self. It is all adrenaline. He is so dead inside that he needs to force that blood to flow. What kind of “alive” is that? But then the fighting gets redefined. Fighting can no longer be just “physical” for so many reasons. Fighting becomes about fighting the self and confronting the self. Fighting becomes the untangling of knots instead of cutting through them. Fighting used to be about being alive by losing the self. Now, fighting is about fighting to confront the self, and fighting to “live”. It plays into the brave golden knight deconstruction so well. The powerful brave golden knight was actually craven and empty. It had to be torn to pieces. The crippled broken man he actually is now is not craven. He is fighting a much realer battle rn. He confesses things to a dark mirror, an executioner, his darkest sins and darkest thoughts. In a way he is trying to see if there can even be salvation after that. It is key that all that he is left with is what he said and Ilyn’s silence or laughter. So he concludes: “kill me if you can.” Again, his Goldenhand the Just pursuit becomes a dead end too. So that sense of purpose is short lived and gone. He is heading towards a noose right now. He is gonna be confronted with his worst sins before a noose. I wonder what direction this will push him in. Again, what can you do, but die? Live and fight. For a chance of possibility. For those little flames in the “sea of darkness” in his weirdwood dream, and whatever it could mean. Maybe if you keep going you just end up in a greater and more unending darkness. Maybe there is no way out of the cave atp, maybe you are going down into the dark pits of your soul to doom yourself: I must go up, he told himself. Up, not down. Why am I going down? Below the earth his doom awaited, he knew with the certainty of dream; something dark and terrible lurked there, something that wanted him. Jaime tried to halt, but their spears prodded him on. If only I had my sword, nothing could harm me.

But unless you fight, unless you keep moving and holding that flaming sword, you will never actually find out. The flames go out in the dream when he stops fighting. His ghosts rush him then. So keep fighting instead. Fight the horrors. And if you end up dying anyway, if you end up in darkness anyway, at least you died in battle.