#I needed to express that idk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kelin-is-writing · 20 days ago

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Not some peoples on here and TikTok going:

“You don’t like the ending because your favorite character died”

Hell yeah? Literally why wouldn’t I be pissed that my favorite character who could be saved died? Dabi has one of the most realistic backstories and best characterizations in Mha, actually not only in Mha but Anime/Manga in general and do you know how taboo of topics domestic violence, child abuse and raping are in Japan? Mind you, Japan is a country that has domestic violence normalized in their country as part of marriage and somehow education too. Y’all might think I’m joking but victims of domestic abuse in Japan are struggling very much to this day, but Japanese peoples rarely talks about it because Japan is a “Family Image” oriented society (Endeavor and the Himuras showed it enough me thinks) so they categorically refuse to let people know abuse happens, especially the abusers.

“Oh BuT aLL aBuSeRs DoN’t WaNt It To Be KnOwN”, I know but in Japan it’s normalized to just live through it and that (together with bullying) it’s one of the reasons the suicide rate in Japan is one of the highest globally, hope it helps to get a better grasp on everything I’m trying to say.

Horikoshi has depicted it perfectly, because you know… He lives there and even the final outcome (Rei becoming Enji’s caretaker after years of abuse) it’s very much Japanese style. Which is why the Todoroki family ending it’s wrong and disturbing. Wrong, and disturbing.

And as if one of Enji’s victims becoming his caretaker isn’t enough, one of his other victims had to die because of his actions.

“No BuT tOuYa WeNt OfF wItH hIs QuIrK oN hIs OwN”, and who was the main reason and cause he went off like that with his Quirk? Endeavor.

Yep. Thought so too.

I don’t get why some of you are bending backwards, doing backflips and cartwheels to defend Endeavor just because he’s an Hero like— I’m sorry but he is the depiction of a realistically fact that even if your job (YOUR JOB!) is to save other people, behind closed doors that same person who saves other people can still be a shitty person who’s a curse to his own family, because Endeavor is just Enji Todoroki’s façade.

And he’s a well-written character because the depiction of abuser Horikoshi did of him it’s accurate to reality. Enji is egotistical, narcissistic, greedy, self-centered and selfish, which are all the characteristics that made him physically unable to actually address any of what he did until Dabi’s reveal, despite knowing that he was dead wrong and that together with the fact that he waited almost a decade to apologize to his family, is the reason why I genuinely don’t give a flying fuck about his “redemption”. If sorrow was eating you alive why didn’t you apologize sooner, trash?

Touya never got the closure he deserved, actually none of the Leagues got it and you know why? Because the whole War arc was rushed, you can tell by the way Shigaraki was offed. From a writing standpoint it was laughable, seriously.

What’s even worse is that… Nothing has actually changed in the Hero society despite the fact that nine years have passed, because people like Touya, Shigaraki and Toga will never be actually saved because Heroes have failed miserably to save the prime examples of what’s to be saved.

And no, they weren’t saved because death isn’t salvation for people who want to live, be accepted and loved. You guys that think this way genuinely scare me and I want y’all far away from me.

Like— To sum what I’m trying to say: We can’t cry and hate Mha’s ending because of all this, but some of y’all can cry, kick sheets, throw up, crashout and hate the ending over fucking ships?

Wow…

#— ❥ kelrambles;#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #toga himiko #todofam #anti endeavor #like— i’ve been getting in my tiktok fyp this bkdk shipper who’s twenty-two (22) crashing out because izoc became canon #and that had me unlocking a new facial expression that i didn’t knew i had #but suddenly i am weird and crazy for hating the ending because my favorite character died???#🦗🦗🦗🦗#you know who’s actually weird??? IT’S Y’A—#can’t believe i had to explain why an abuser surviving and being unpunished while one of his victims died pisses me off #crazy work guys… crazy work…#no because listen… horikoshi took into his hands VERY SERIOUS matters that in japan need to be talked about more #but in the end he still didn’t have enough balls to end these matters the rightful way because of japan’s conservative ass #idk guys… i thought horikoshi would handle the many IMPORTANT topics he put in this serie way better than this…#guess my expectations were a tad bit too high

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drgnflyteabox · 3 days ago

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happy wife happy life

pairing: kate laswell x fem!reader summary: welcome home, soldier tags/warnings: housewife kink, oral sex (f), reader is emotional<3, vaginal fingering, mommy kink, age difference, dom/sub, self indulgent, soft, praise kink, tit play, dacryphilia, service kink, face sitting & 69ing, kate isn't into penetration but reader is, scent kink, orgasm delay/control w.c: 2.4k

Kate is back.

She’s in one of those moods again, contemplative and quiet. You’ve seen it before, and though you haven’t been official for that long you’re starting to recognize a pattern.

Her back is tense, shoulders hiked as though still defensive. There’s a physicality about her that’s different when fresh off her ‘missions’, as you’ve taken to calling them affectionately. Knots in her that don’t fade until she’s properly well-fucked, sat in a bath and had you waiting on her.

“Had a good flight?” you ask, voice soft. The lights are dimmed, too. Nothing overhead. A linen candle burns on the coffee table while dinner cooks in the oven.

A game, almost. You, the housewife and she, the returning soldier. It would be all true and not just half true if not for the fact that you’d just finished your third year of university, but it’s fun nonetheless to pretend. Doting on Kate is the most fun you’ve had in a while.

“Long,” she sighs. Her boots go by the door, nice and tidy the way you like it. Happy wife, happy life, she’d joked once.

She steps quietly into the room, surveilling it like it’s got some hidden threat. You stand and wait for a moment, waiting for her to lose a fraction of the tension she’s holding and deem your apartment safe.

Clear.

When she acknowledges you, you step toward her and press your nose to her cheekbone, inhaling. Cotton deodorant, some sweat underneath it, the smell of some flowery conditioner they’ve probably got for the women on base.

Her arms find your back, smoothing up and down like the softness of you is something she’ll never get enough of.

“My girl,” she says affectionately against your cheek, lips a little chapped but still soft. Airplane air, you figure.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you murmur, stepping back just enough that you’re facing each other. “Want a bath?”

Kate hums, so you pad diligently to the bathroom and set up.

Little tealight candles, a heap of epsom salts for her muscles, her favourite bubble bath scent. You know it's her favourite because she used to compliment you on the way your skin smelled, the way the smell of ylang-ylang and cinnamon would drift up from your skin on some of your first dates.

Hot water for the epsom salts to dissolve and for her likely sore muscles. It’s a treat for you, too, to watch her sink in and groan. Makes you feel warm inside. Accomplished.

“Mm,” Kate hums, stepping out of her work pants. You try not to look at her panties, then her pussy, but you must fail because she laughs in the quiet of the bathroom. “Greedy girl. Be patient.”

She’s a little overgrown, and your mouth salivates. You turn so she can’t see your hungry expression and pull out some bath oil.

“Here,” you squeeze a few drops into the steaming water. “For your airplane skin.”

She tilts her head back, smiling at you. You take a seat at the edge of the tub, trying again not to look at her soft breasts peeking through the bubbles and once again failing.

“Missed me?” she closes her eyes, smiling stretching into a grin. Her arms leave the water and hold the sides of the tub, as if ready to pounce.

“I always miss you,” you say, trying to be sweet. Trying to ignore the steady pulse between your thighs.

“Mm?” she pokes one eye open, sinking a little lower into the bath, wetting her hair. “Is it you missing me or is it that naughty little pussy?”

You suck in a breath, heart flipping.

“It’s me,” you squeak.

Her eye squints as the apple of her cheek pulls up, smiling like a prideful lion. You feel her finger draw light circles on the exposed skin of your thigh, hand tilted towards you.

“Don’t lie,” she says, ignoring the way your breath stutters like someone’s punched you in the sternum. “That isn’t polite.”

She always knows exactly what you need, when you need it. Never bothers drawing you in and never has, she’s always dropped you right in the deep end.

Mommy. You breath out, skin prickling and hot. Sex was something odd for you; something you’d never been able to fully enjoy before Kate, not with your propensity for turning the act into something people usually don’t sign up for.

You’re a crier, is what it is.

Sex is vulnerability for you. A shedding of layers, an extension of tender trust and expectation of care you haven’t found much in strangers, and so casual never worked for you.

Kate wasn’t casual. She’d bent you till you broke the first week of knowing her, weeping fat tears onto a hotel pillow and saying thank you mommy, I love you mommy. Cracked you open and spilled your insides into the palm of her hand.

Not even a few months later and she knows she’s got you wrapped around her finger. In more ways than one.

“I really did miss you,” you breathe. Her fingers touch your knee, tapping idly.

“I know, sweetheart,” she closes her eyes again, tipping her head back. The line of her neck shines from the heat, illuminating faint scars and skin turned tan from hours in the sun.

God, you feel shameless. Your throat tightens, thighs coming together, clit swelling. Though her eyes are closed, Kate exudes a smugness you know is helping her unwind. Giving her that power helps the both of you. It’s a bonus that it feels so good.

You end up leaving her to soak. The lasagna looks good in the oven, steadily bubbling under the tinfoil. In two minutes, you’ll peel it off and let it crisp up, hoping Kate will touch your cheek and call you a good wife.

She emerges in a towel, clean and white and sprayed with your linen laundry scent. Her skin still steams a little, but her shoulders have relaxed and her neck isn’t so stiff.

“Looks good, babygirl,” she throws a terry cloth robe on and sits, letting you slide a plate full of lasagna and Caesar salad towards her.

“Thank you,” you tuck in. Cooking is nice, but nicer when it’s for Kate and exam stress is behind you. The freedom of time and the motivation to impress her really pushes you to do your best, and the feeling of gratification as she licks her fork rivals only the needy throb of your cunt.

“I thought I told you patience,” she raises a brow at you. “I can see you squirming.”

“Can’t help it,” you sigh, trying to lick your fork to tempt her.

“No? Do you need another lesson in patience?”

“Ah, no, no. I can be patient,” you don’t want another lesson; don’t want to see her stern tonight. Already your chest pinches with emotion, both her recent absence and the elation of seeing her again fighting a tug-of-war over your heart.

Doing the dishes takes a distinct amount of self control, but you manage it. Even though she stands beside you, smelling so good and wearing only a robe with her sternum exposed, you manage it.

She turns to you when the last plate is dried, when the lasagna is put away, and grabs your hips in a firm grip.

“Bedroom?”

Though you’ve been acting like a bitch in heat panting over her since she stepped in the door, you appreciate the check-in.

“Mhm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, bedroom,” you’re barely finished saying it when she gently spins you, crowding up behind you and walking forward to push you in the direction of your bedroom.

It’s practically shared at this point, what with how often she’s here between her deployments.

Kate kisses the side of your neck, inhaling your skin and sighing like she’s saying finally.

Fuck if you aren’t feeling the same way.

“Kate,” you breathe, hands cupping over hers as she reaches up to squeeze your tits.

“Ah ah,” she tuts. “You know what to call me, my girl.”

“Mommy,” and it’s nearly a whimper.

You’re spun again, gently still, and then stripped of your dress. Kate rubs your sides appreciatively before she unclips your bra, letting your tits fall into her hands.

“Beautiful,” she smiles. Your underwear comes off next, her sure hands sliding them off and tapping your calves to get you to step out of them.

You stand naked in front of her, already hazy, already soaking and wetting your inner thighs.

“I’m gonna sit on your face, sweetheart,” she slowly pushes you, letting the back of your knees hit the bed first before your butt does. “Lay back for mommy.”

You lay back, scooting a bit up the bed to give her room.

“I’m going to use you, mkay?”

You nod.

“Words, babygirl.”

“Use me,” you breathe, skin tightening over your whole body, forming two points at your nipples and making you shiver. Kate crawls on top of you, turning to face your body when she reaches your head.

“Keep your hands at your sides,” she orders.

Though you can see her pussy, though it’s so fucking close to your face you can hardly stop yourself from moving, you wait like a good girl as she sheds her bathrobe and slowly lowers her hips.

She smells good. You’ve never expressed it out loud before for fear of judgment, but you love the way she smells.

Kate is particular about what she likes, and she’s taught you her preferences diligently. No fingers, nothing but your hot little tongue inside her.

You run the tip of your tongue around her clit, then toward her hole, spreading her lips with your tongue and licking between them, softly at first and then building pressure. The flat of your tongue rubs against the hard nub of her clit and makes her sigh with pleasure. Her bush tickles you a little.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she swivels her hips a little as you push your nose between her folds, letting her grind down on it as you lap at her.

The wetness between your legs grows until you feel a damp spot under you, thighs rubbing together as she ignores your neediness in favor of reaching down to tweak your nipples.

“Mm, make mommy come and then I’ll give you a kiss,” she sighs.

You suck her clit into your mouth, teasing her a little with your tongue and feeling her thighs tense beside your head.

Wetness coats your nose, your cheeks, your mouth and chin. She tastes good, too.

You feel it the moment she starts to come, her clit pulsing against your tongue, hands gripping your breasts like anchors in a storm. You moan into her, knowing the vibrations are helping her alone.

“Good girl,” she pants, grinding out the last little aftershocks. “My sweet girl deserves a reward for a job well done.”

And finally, she leans forward and spreads your pussy lips with her fingers, diving in with the point of her tongue aimed for your clit.

“Mmm,” Kate moans as you lick her gently, returning the favor between your own legs. “She’s needy, isn’t she sweetheart?”

You moan against her again in agreement.

“If only you could see this desperate little clit,” her voice is pleased, amused. Smug again. “Jumping out at me, begging for attention.”

You don’t need to see it — you can feel it. Your clit juts out, sensitive and tender. The feeling of her wrapping her lips around it and sneaking two fingers below and into your hole makes tears sting at your eyes.

“Always so sensitive,” she murmurs. “That’s alright, let it out.”

It becomes harder to focus on your task, but you try. Her second orgasm builds much slower than the first, coming in tandem with yours.

“Wait ‘till I come again,” she warns.

You try to hold it, desperately spearing your tongue into her and rubbing your nose against her clit. She twitches against you, breathing harder, moaning.

When she does come, finally, you let yourself release and your tears mix with the wetness already on you.

“Fuck,” she curses. “That’s good, good girl.”

You shake, pleasure cresting in waves over you, body alive and singing and relishing in the feeling of her skin over yours.

“Mmmhn—” you pant, hands clenching at your sides.

Kate sits up, swinging a leg over and laying down beside you. Her hand finds your stomach, gliding over it with her nails and making it jump.

“Such a good girl,” she kisses your jaw, sucking a mark into it. Her fingers move from your stomach down to your cunt again, spreading you open and pressing inside.

You pant, tears squeezing out of your eyes and trembling from sensitivity.

“You’re going to give me another,” she sucks your earlobe. “One more, for mommy.”

“Yes, mommy,” your mouth falls open and you shout.

Her hand cups your pussy, two fingers curled inside you as her palm presses hard into your sensitive clit. She murmurs soft words into your ear, and though you can’t hear them well you let them shelter you as the storm of your pleasure builds and builds and builds—

Until you come apart in her hands again, crying out and arching your back and clenching your hole against her fingers.

You sag against the bed as you finish, shivering with some aftershocks and sensitively, whining as she pulls her fingers out.

“So good for mommy,” she praises. She lifts her hand and sucks her fingers clean, leaning forward and doing the same to your mouth.

You end up in a messy kiss, more licking than anything.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, mommy.”

“Mm, my good girl. Ready for a shower?”

Another aspect of your relationship you hadn’t been able to find elsewhere — she cares for you after, too. You know it's normal, expected even. But it still touches you, still fills you with a kind of glowing warmth that’s impossible to hide from her.

Especially when she’s relaxed now. When she’s letting you scrub her back and doing the same for you, filling the bathroom with that same scent. Ylang-ylang, cinnamon.

The sheets are a mess, but you drag a quilt over them and resolve to do them in the morning.

Kate curls around you, cocooning you against the world.

“I love you, my girl,” she kisses your cheek.

“I love you too, Kate. Goodnight,” you yawn.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

#i am ovulating can u tell #drgnfly writes #reader expresses she hasn't been successful with casual sex #idk if i should tag that?#kate laswell x reader #kate laswell #18+ mdni #laswell x reader #laswell cod #its 3:37 am but i had to finish this #so much pxssy eating need her in my life #sigh

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