#albeit in a very perverted manner

[baiselong]

TFU - Arenanta

Redrew Arenanta (and gave her a name), took a lot of messing around witht he position, anatomy, details, and rendering but I got a very satisfying piece here.

Arenanta is the first unicorn to exist in world, she was born when (as a mare) was struck in the head with electrified wood that broke off in the midst of a fight with two dragons. She is a beast born of malice and hatred towards dragons for her new immortal existence, her death, and the massive destruction they cause. She is difficult to reason about her opinion on dragons and only wishes to end them to allow life to prosper. Only her mortal mind will not nor will she try to understand the natural aspect of dragons and their importance, she is blinded by her misery and is lashing out on the ones that cause it. A barren mare that could not raise a foal, dies, and is reborn a creature that gives to birth to beasts that will destroy all of dragon kind on the planet.

Arenanta's name is composed of two names of gods

Ares (Greek, mythology): God of war, brutality, and bloodshed

Ananta (Indian, Hindu): One of the names of Vishnu, God of infinite

Arenanta's name would mean infinite war and bloodshed, beast of destruction

[whimsyvixen]

𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

Resident Evil Drabble

Pairing: Lord Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: You learn that you can never refuse your Lord's desire for you.

WARNINGS/TAGS: dark smut, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, teratophilia, master/slave, monster/human, overstimulation, forced pleasure, table sex, dacryphilia, food kink? Lord D likes to attend to you, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference since he's literally fucking 9'' tall.

A/N: Guess my perverted ass did want to write more filth for this man. Gonna have to dedicate this to all those Lord D fans out there 💋!! I changed up his design a little so I hope you still like it!

The castle was cold, goosebumps rising on your skin and making your nipples stiff beneath your dress. You couldn’t suppress shivering, folding your arms over your chest to try to stay warm, unknowingly giving your Lord a flattering view of your cleavage. You squeezed your legs together, mortified when you could still feel it swirling inside you, Lord Dimitrescu’s gift to you filling your womb. 

After swallowing the last bite of food on your plate, you looked up nervously to your right, flinching at the intense look your captor threw your way. He was a giant, making you feel like little more than a doll seated at the table, the satin, maroon night dress you had donned making you self conscious from how thin it was. It did little to hide every imperfection or curve along your body, making you lift your shoulders up defensively as his eyes traveled down your seated form. 

He filled up your cup, the red liquid swirling around the glass making you uneasy as it reminded you of the color of blood. You didn’t bother to reach for it, Lord Dimitrescu already bringing it to your lips to coax you to drink it. He held your chin gently, his eyes focused on your puckered lips as he raised the glass. To your relief, it tasted like ordinary wine (albeit with a very rich texture) and not the metallic taste you feared. The liquid ran smoothly down your throat, a trickle escaping the corner of your mouth to trail down the length of your neck to slide between your breasts. 

Lord Dimitrescu’s attention was fixated there, bringing a calloused thumb to trace the path of the droplet, grazing the numerous bites and hickeys littered across your neck and shoulders along the way. When he tugged down the front of your dress, exposing your naked tits to his hungry gaze, you had to resist the urge to scoot away from him, gripping the sides of your chair tightly to allow him to inspect you. 

The feeling of his warm palm caressing your globe had you biting your lip, unwilling to let him know much comfort it brought to your freezing body. When he tugged on your nipple, squeezing the tiny nub between his thumb and forefinger, you couldn't contain your small mewl, breathing shallowly as your nerves lit up with your arousal. He shifted his gaze back to your heated face, taking in your tortured expression with a smile before leaning down to kiss you gently on your soft lips. 

It started out innocently, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing manner as he continued to grope at your plump breast. It had you sighing into the kiss, your body responding to his soft touch as it warmed up your body. When you felt his other hand squeeze your inner thigh, you gasped allowing his tongue to breach past your lips to plunder the hot caverns of your mouth. From there, the open mouth kiss turned heated, your tongues dancing aggressively against each other, Lord Dimitrescu growling deeply with every muffled moan escaping your sweet lips. The hand on your thigh traveled up to push your dress out of his way, his thick fingers brushing against your swollen folds to make you jolt in your seat. You flinched away at the contact, your wet lips disconnecting from his sensual mouth when you shoved him away from you.

“I, I..” you stuttered out the words, snapping your legs closed to prevent him from touching you further. “I don’t…” You cast your eyes down, trying to explain yourself when a stony expression crossed his face. “It still hurts.”

Your response only had him raising an eyebrow, Lord Dimitrescu clearly not pleased with your reluctance to service him once more.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off your chair. He sat you on top of the table, amused at your little shocked gasp before pushing his chair back to kneel before you. He brought his hands up to his neck to begin unbuttoning his shirt, showing off the broad expanse of his chest and muscled form as he pulled the fabric to the sides. You couldn’t look away from his body, your mind replaying the events of last night when you lay under him, screaming and moaning out in ecstasy as he took you over and over, uncaring of your sobs as he brought you to climax after climax. 

When he applied pressure on your knees, his large hands possessing the capability of breaking your bones, you knew what he wanted. 

“Open up for me, uibito.” His smooth voice tickled your ears. “Let me see what I’ve done to you.” 

“M-my Lord!” You put up your hands to stop him, “Don’t you think it’s too soon to… to-.” A shriek escaped you when he forced your legs open, the cool air stinging your inflamed vulva and making you shudder when you felt his cum dribble out of you in copious amounts. You tried to reason with him once more, desperate to hide your shame from his curious eyes. “What I mean to say is, I have not fully recovered from your affections, and I don’t think it’s a good idea that we–AH!”

He rubbed your engorged clit, shocking you enough to have you fall back on the table on your elbows. You tried to shove his hand away, tears of humiliation glistening your eyes when you felt his spend leak out of you to pool on the table cloth. You hated how you couldn’t control yourself, your hips grinding against his palm despite your protests. He rubbed none too gently at your stimulated nub, taking note of how your little breathless gasps indicated your body’s readiness to take him once more. With his other hand he tugged down his pants, the twitching organ responding to your pleasured moans as it sought out your tight pussy. You shook your head, twisting and turning your body when his cock rubbed along your ass. 

“You’re still of a mind to refuse me? My patience grows thin with you, draga mea.” Lining up his cock to your reddened folds, he began to push his way through, delighted at the sight of your pussy struggling to wrap around his sheer girth. “Shall I remind you what it means to be mine?”

💓 Thank you for reading!! 💓

Here is the art for my drabble ft my OC so enjoy~🫣🤭

For the full NSFW Art, select here --> (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

[secretlilsis]

He knew it when he first saw her.

Saw that dulled, numb expression in her eyes - forged by horrors he could only imagine. Could sense that acute pain behind her monotone facade.

He knew she’d be his salvation.

She had been adopted into his family by his parents who dearly wanted a girl as well but could no longer conceive.

And from the first time she saw her, he knew. Truly knew, she was a godsend.

He himself struggled with the way his father often treated him, he wondered if they had known about that whether they would’ve even given her to this family, but as he knew his father would only target him he didn’t feel to uneasy. Most of what his father did was based around the idea of toughening him up. Tough love.

Old beliefs. He was tired of them. But surely a mark had been left on him.

She looked so small and fragile, the way she’d fake a smile when polite, do her best to respond in an normal and appropriate manner to things like family dinners and shopping trips.

But she never truly opened up or was honest.

He made it his job to get through to her, in some sense wanting to prove his worth by showing he was able to get through to that delicate being that now was his little sister.

Only very slowly did he succeed at that. But with each little sign and genuine little smile, he felt accomplished. It’s like he felt a sense of control his father had robbed him of. Soon most of his thoughts resolved around her, helping her, supporting her, protecting her.

He obsessed about her fanatically. He could see himself reflected in her eyes in an way he throughly enjoyed, he saw her admiration as markers of his merit. He was addicted to it.

When they got older, it was like they had grown into a true team. Always being around each other. Revolving around each other. And her shell had been fully broken. She was vivid now, playful, would often even tease him in an way that dumbfounded him.

It had never really occurred to him that she was aware of how obsessed he was with her or that she learned to interpret that as love, having no real window of reference of what a truly selfless or loving version of that care would’ve been like.

But he could often feel her eyes following him, trying to understand him as he was understanding her.

Then when they both were of age he for the first time allowed himself to admit that he wanted to truly own her, sexually as well.

He tried to hide it, and he was sure he was doing a good job at it. Maybe a lingering touch on her shoulders once in a while, or a stare that betrayed his arousal. But nothing more than that.

He did his best to be exactly the big brother she wanted and needed and hoped she’d never see past the facade, the need for control disguised in kindness, the obsession that fueled him to try harder for her. The way he calculated what type of approach to his care she’d welcome the most.

He’d be content scaring every possible boyfriend away, manipulating her into seeing she deserves better anyways.

He wouldn’t act on his desires if it meant risking to lose her, but he damn sure wouldn’t share her either.

She belonged to him. Hair. Skin. All of it.

Yet one day she just stood there in front of him, in front of his bed. Looking at him with that expression that told him to pay good attention. Wearing her nightgown, that albeit not very revealing always had made him feel aroused to see. She looked at him. “Big brother. Do you really think I don’t know how you look at me? It’s written all over your face.”

He looked at her with deafening suprise, his blood pumping in his veins so hard he could hear it in his ears.

He wanted to deny it, defend himself but her next words were bone chilling -

“Pervert. Sicko. Monster. Lowest of the low.” She said rapidly, more like counting items off an imaginary list than like she meant it.

Yet extreme anger rushed through him. Looking at her with an almost predatory gaze, fighting for self control.

Then she laughed as if she had just told a funny joke or something. Laughed right at his face.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face big brother!” She exclaimed as if his boiling rage and sense of betrayal was prime entertainment.

But then she softly sighed „I only said everything you thought I’d say when finding out about this, really. Thought I’d clear the air.“

„Clear the air!? Do you have any idea how angry you’ve just made me - how am I supposed to understand what you’re doing here?“ This might have been the first time he’s raised his voice at her. He didn’t feel sorry. She deserved it.

Yet before he could think another scornful thought she interrupted him by pressing her lips onto his, with a gentle firmness and directness to it.

„You wouldn’t have believed my words anyways, big brother. It’s all about showing you how much I accept you and how you feel, right?”

Just like that he couldn’t think another angry thought anymore. He understood that to some extent she had just toyed with his feelings. Something that he didn’t take lightly.

But then her body was already pressing up against his and he could feel her breasts.

He wanted to feel her, fill her up. Fuck her. See her losing all sense of self control and come undone for him. But it slowly dawned on him that she maybe needed to play these frankly insulting games, that maybe she needed to be the one in charge right now. That that’s how it made sense to her to approach this. He wanted to hold her so tight she’d shatter into a million pieces if he wasn’t careful.

She started to undress now, carelessly throwing her night gown away and next to the bed. She was only wearing panties now.

He marvelled at her sight. That beautiful skin and body.

He knew that’s what it had always been with her, giving in to stay in control. Exploring her throughly to figure out when to step back up again. Up until now it hasn’t even occurred to him that maybe he wasn’t the only one with a manipulative streak.

Then when he almost couldn’t bear holding back anymore she looked at him with a dreamy aroused expression and said “I need big brother to take control of my body now.”

And that’s when something inside him snapped. He pushed her beneath him and held her in place by her wrists. She gasped in surprise at how quickly he was able to take charge. Spreading her legs greedily, like his natural desire for her was something she badly needed. She felt so soft and giving underneath him. He almost forgave her for her earlier comments, but this wasn’t the time to be upset. He had to be a good big brother and give her what she wanted, what he wanted. The pure unfiltered dominance her body was begging for. With her wetness, her moans and the way she clung to his body.

“You’re mine. You’ve just forfeited any chance at ever not being mine.” He breathed in an raspy voice before thrusting into her wet, welcoming pussy.

He fucked her roughly and tenderly. And she moaned his name over and over again, like it’s all she could even think anymore.

His cum filled her up as he made one final deep thrust, then he pulled out of her watching her with growing fascination.

She had given herself to him just how he had always wished. Always desired.

As she pulled him into a intense kiss, expressing a desperation for him that nearly got him hard again she came. And she came hard.

“Did you just cum from kissing me?” He asked.

She slowly nodded as if she felt a little embarrassed of it.

“Well that’s adorable.” He could only say. Then he pulled her into his warm brotherly embrace. She returned the embrace clearly feeling an intense mix of emotions, all regarding him.

He eyed her proudly as she succumbed to exhaustion and he saw every last flash of emotion in her eyes fade into calm, serene sleepiness that carried her into her dreams.

He knew he’d just watch her sleep for a while, before carrying her back into her room, carefully as not to wake anyone else in the house. Tucking her in and returning to his own room.

[lets-try-some-writing]

feral orion pax.... got anything?

I've always got more feral Orion Pax! I wouldn't be a fan if I didn't.

The Wildling of the Archives

When Ratchet was young he met Orion Pax while searching for a medical text. It was a simple meeting and he found himself enjoying the company of the well mannered and soft spoken student of the master archivist. During the vorns they spent developing their friendship, Ratchet developed a very specific view of his friend, one that was so deeply engrained into his mind that when Orion finally felt comfortable enough to show some of his more wild traits, it took Ratchet by complete and total surprise.

It started small of course. Orion began simply by showing off his fanged denta more often, a sign of trust since most shied away in fear when he smiled. Ratchet raised a brow but said nothing in regards to Orion's denta. He had seen far more interesting mutations and modifications in the medical ward. A fanged set of denta was nothing to him.

Then when Orion grew more comfortable he also started wrapping his field around Ratchet's, albeit hesitantly at first. That set off a few alarm bells for Ratchet but he once again didn't make a comment on it since Orion never smothered him in his field or tried anything sketchy. To Ratchet it seemed like a greeting and defensive gesture and so he allowed it to be without issue. Of course when Orion began quietly allowing bits of emotion to flow through and into his field Ratchet began to reconsider his stance on remaining silent. But as Ratchet observed and saw that the emotions were all soothing and protective in nature he opted to continue to allow Orion to do as he wished. It was odd having another constantly wrap him up in their field as if he were a glass doll, especially in Iacon where every mech kept their fields tucked as close as possible. But Ratchet had heard tales of places where such behavior was normal and so thinking Orion must have come from such a location on Cybertron, he began returning the gesture.

The first time he allowed his field to tentatively reach out to Orion's, the archivist's optics blew wide and he nearly dropped what he was holding to stare in awe. The surprise didn't last for long as a huge smile soon spread across Orion's face which was quickly followed by his field intermingling with Ratchet's happily. It was rather overwhelming and Ratchet pulled his field back, wrapping it as close to his protoform as he could while he dealt with the string of emotions that came from Orion's end. And while Orion looked apologetic and somewhat put off by his harsh retreat, the archivist never took the moment to spark and life continued as always, with Ratchet sometimes allowing his field to brush across and mingle with Orion's when he was feeling confident.

On such occasions Orion never ceased to smile in joy, his whole frame puffed up in pride as if he had just won something. Ratchet did not understand at all but as usual didn't comment on the increasing oddity that was Orion Pax... right up until Orion went nuts when a mech began harassing him.

Ratchet had always been told he was pretty, by his peers, his friends, and even by Orion on occasion. But the mech before him was taking it too far, probing and getting in his personal space in such a way that Ratchet wanted to purge. Throughout most of the interaction Orion had been civil, watching and glaring at the mech, his ever so slightly clawed digits curled up in a fist but otherwise not acting. But when the mech got close enough for his field to touch where Orion's wrapped around Ratchet like a shield, revealing all the mech's perverted intentions, all hell broke loose. Before the mech could react Orion screeched with enough volume and intensity to cause the nearby mecha to pause and stare in horror as Orion punched the mech clean in the face. He didn't stop there and clambered all over the mech, digging his claws into exposed seams and biting down on any piece of plating he could connect to.

It was the most terrifying deviation from the normal, kind, and calm archivist that Ratchet knew, so much so that he fell back to the ground in shock as his friend tore into the mech. Orion only stopped when Ratchet regained his senses enough to tear Orion off the mech even as Orion hissed and flailed, eager to get back into the one sided beatdown he was engaging in. Even when he finally calmed enough to disengage, Orion clung to him, his plating flared and growling at any mecha who came near, even officers who came to investigate. Ratchet was contemplating trying to knock his friend out or even make a run for it when Alpha Trion turned up, scruffed Orion, and dealt with the situation.

Orion was kept away from everyone for a few days afterward and when he did meet with Ratchet... it was awkward until Ratchet just asked the question that had been eating at him.

Ratchet: What in the pits was that?!

Orion: It was... a reaction from my base coding

Ratchet: Your base coding is still active?

Orion: Yes, and when I get... attached to other mecha, it tends to act up more often around them. My apologies.

Ratchet was dumbstruck by the revelation. Never once did he imagine that his kind and quiet archivist had active base coding. Not only that, but the fact that it was active had worrying implications. After all, the only way base coding remains active in fully developed mecha is due to extreme stress or exposure to another with active codes. And since Ratchet was 99% sure no one else in the archives had active base codes, he held Orion close after the revelation and treated him with all the care in the world as he dug around looking for who might have hurt his dear friend.

Orion didn't notice Ratchet's efforts and just seemed oh so pleased with Ratchet's affection that he was completely unaware as Ratchet rooted out the entire archive. He dug around in staff records, scanned through security footage, looked for anything suspicious, and even did some basic questioning. He also may or may not have given Jazz a handful of shanix to get him files on individuals that he found to possibly be involved somehow. But eventually Alpha Trion stepped in and let Ratchet know that "No, Orion was not abused. He just came from the wilds" once again leaving Ratchet dumbstruck. He had been so certain he was dealing with an abuse case that he overlooked another possible answer.

He felt like an idiot and did not reveal the fact he had gone rooting through everyone Orion had ever interacted with. He still couldn't bring himself to stop giving Orion affection even after he was made aware of Orion's situation. However even with everything cleared up and Orion's behavior being given a viable cause, Ratchet still did not expect to find a dead mech-animal on his workstation around a half vorn after Orion's tussle with the mech who had bothered him. This he did comment on and told Orion quite firmly that "no, dead mech-animals are not proper presents for civilized mecha, but thank you all the same".

Orion sheepishly nodded at being told as such and didn't bring Ratchet anything of that variety again. But the medic in training often found small shiny things on his workstation instead. Once he even found what looked to be an optic, earning an innocent shrug from Orion when Ratchet brought it to him in horror. And while Ratchet did get rid of the optic, he kept everything else Orion gave him in a small and methodically organized container. He made sure to write the date of when he received each gift and kept everything clean and well maintained. Of course if anyone commented on his box of trinkets from his friend, they received a seething glare and promptly left the topic alone.

By the time Orion began preparing to go and perform politically and meet Megatronus, Ratchet had grown used to Orion's behavior and even welcomed it. He pretended to not see the subtle scratches Orion left on his plating after their meetings, a sign that he knew to be a claim of sorts. He did not object to Orion playing the role of a protector when they went out and even found it calming to have Orion stand tall, plating firm and slightly flared as he glared at passers by. He especially found it nice to not have to deal with unwanted mecha as Orion would make his claim explicitly clear by wrapping his arms around Ratchet and growling lowly. It usually got the point across, sometimes even causing misunderstandings in regards to their relationship. But in the odd event that Orion's behavior didn't warn off an offender... well, Orion had more than a few charges of assault tacked onto his record.

Ratchet was surprised to see his archivist so possessive and wild when he allowed himself to relax, but he enjoyed the company of Orion all the same.

[sukirichi]

sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.  

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away.  “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma​ 

[tanadrin]

This is all quite speculative, but: I also feel like that intuitive threatened-feeling exists primarily in the context of transfemininity: the socially inferior/stereotypically passive part of a binary crossing the boundary from below is a problem, and will be derided and pushed back against, but this kind of behavior is common and expected and flatters the supposed superiority of the part of the binary that people seek entry to. The lower-class person aspiring to be an aristocrat, the child trying to be more grown up, and the woman dressing as a man do not impugn the authority of aristocracy, adulthood, or men.

But the thing that makes people bugfuck crazy with rage is someone in the upper half of the binary relinquishing their status to become one of their inferiors. The prince cannot marry a commoner; the manners of the poor aren’t just unfashionable, they’re dirty and disgusting; in racialized hierarchies those who stoop to socialize or sympathize with minorities are race traitors, nevermind those who would actually marry them. A woman acting like a man means she is silly or deluded; a man acting like a woman means he is a disgusting pervert, who must be destroyed. Someone like Abigail Shrier, who is going to go on for hundreds of pages about how trans men need to be protected and convinced of the error of their ways, is going to be openly contemptuous of trans women, rather than sympathetic. Trans men are understandably trying to escape the strictures of womanhood, albeit in the “wrong” way. Trans women are scarcely human.

I don’t want to say this dynamic is equally strong across all binary hierarchies or manifests in the same way, but gender is one of those dynamics where it really sticks out, because even in our more egalitarian society where men and women are supposed to be equal, men are still very much supposed to be active in some ways in which women are supposed to be passive, an agent/patient distinction that in its broad outlines would be perfectly legible to the highly patriarchal societies of the past, all the way back to the Romans.

[morosemagick]

Warriors of Menace | Finan x Reader One Shot

My entry for Rosie's 100 Follower Challange!!

Prompt: “You are very well behaved today. What have you done?”

Warning: Absolutely none, just a shit ton of fluff lol

Words: 2121

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @for-bebbanburg @evelynshelby @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @magravenwrites

Life is much different for you now than it was five years ago. Long gone are the days where there was a shyness about you, and your nerves rattled at the idea of forming friendships of this ragtag band of warriors. Time has been good to you, and after years of being a part of this little, mix-matched family founded by Uhtred of Bebbanburg, it’s safe to say you knew these men well. You understand all of their quirks and knew all the signs of how they behaved. The good days and the bad days were easy to recognize, and when mood swings would accord or the occasional argument between them would happen you’d know just how to put out the fire.

It’s this ability to understand these misunderstood warriors that brought you close to Finan, and in what felt like a blink of an eye… you were his wife.

And he was an excellent husband.

You understood him the most. Finan could not hide his moods from you. Happiness, frustration, anger. You knew the calling card for all of his moods, and he knew all of yours. When you first realized he had feelings for you, you could pinpoint all the little things he would try to do to get you to realize he loved you. It was heartwarmingly adorable and you didn’t let him go long without telling him you felt the same. Since your marriage, you have been a unit in sync. There is nothing Finan can hide from you after almost four years of marriage.

Including when he’s being an absolute menace.

You're in your kitchen making lunch, a large pot of stew over the fire because part of you already expects to feed more than just your family. It’s what you do at this point. You may have married Finan, but you feel like you married the whole crew of warriors with the way you care for them. The food is just about done when, just as expected, Finan comes bursting through the front door with Sihtric in tow.

By the way they come in giggling like children, you know they’re up to no good.

“I know you are not tracking dirt through my home, Finan,” You tell him as you stir your wooden spoon through the pot, and you can hear your husband coming up from behind you.

He kisses the side of your head, “I would never, darlin’,” Finan snickers, placing a hand on your rather round belly, “And how is the wee man today?”

“You are going to regret calling her that when she reveals herself as a daughter,” You smirk as you glance his way and he gives you another kiss, “Speaking of wee men, where is Aethelstan?”

“With Osferth and Eadith,” Sihtric explains as he sits at your table, and you can hear Finan walk around your home. When you glance back, he’s making the table for four.

“And what is he doing with Osferth and Eadith?” You ask as you fully turn around to look at both men, only to find them poorly failing at hiding their smiles, “Finan?”

“Yes, my love?” He asks as he returns to your side, and by his smile you know he's up to no good.

"Where is that boy of yours, and do not lie to me," You tell him with a raised brow and arms crossed so he knows you mean business.

You call Aethelstan just his when the two of them are on your nerves, but the boy is yours. Even though, technically, he is not.

"He's doing us a favor, Y/N, he will be home shortly," Sihtric tells you, trying to save Finan from whatever hole he's currently digging himself.

"Uh-huh," You smirk and now Finan is carefully trying to push you away from the food you are cooking, "What are you doing?"

"Finishin’ for you," Finan tells you with another kiss on your head, "Go sit, I'll bring the pot to the table."

You glance between the two men and head to the table anyway, sitting down next to Sihtric, "Who are you two, and what have you done with my husband and his best friend?"

"We are always this compassionate, Y/N," Finan chuckles as he brings over lunch, "Oi, go grab bread," he whistles to Sihtric and the Dane stands and does as he's told, "You shouldn't be workin' so hard when you're busy makin' us such a wonderful child."

Okay, now you know they're up to no good.

Before you can ask what they’ve done, Aethelstan all but bursts through the front door, slamming it rather hard for a child before realizing you are at the table staring at him. He smiles wide, the cheeky grin a telltale sign of trouble he picked up from Finan in the year of you raising him. He walks directly to you, like he hasn’t done a thing wrong, and places a kiss on your cheek. (Another sign he’s gotten from Finan, as well.) “Hello, Mother.”

“Go clean yourself up before lunch, you little trouble maker,” Your smirk at the boy, and Finan ruffles his hair as he runs off. The two of you aren’t really supposed to let him call you by those names, but neither of you has the heart to tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s already been a year and if he wants to call you Mother and Father that’s exactly what he’s going to call you.

Aethelstan cleans himself up and then joins you all at the table, sitting down across from Sihtric and next to Finan. The two of them move in sync as they fold their hands over together above their food, and to the side of you, Sihtric lowers his head in respect for your religion.

“Thank you, Father, for this delicious meal we are about to receive, and for this family you allowed us to grow,” Finan prays and you just stare at him with eyebrows scrunched and your lip curled into a smirk.

Because you know that getting Finan to pray before meals is usually a hassle.

“In your name, we pray,” Aethelstan continues, “Ahem.”

The three of you sign to your God and Sihtric just keeps his head down till you are done, and then the three men start to eat. You, however, just continue to stare at your husband until he finally looks at you and smiles, “What?”

“You are all very well behaved today,” You start to tell them all, and Finan just smiles wider as you lean forward and rest your chin in your hand, “What have you done?”

“You know us, Y/N, nothin’ too awful,” Finan starts to explain.

“It’s true, Y/N,” Sihtric adds as he rips himself a piece of the bread loaf, “We only do things out of love. That’s just the kind of warriors we are.”

“Aye, he’s right.” Finan agrees as he continues eating.

“Oh, I am sure,” You say in response even though you don’t believe any of them, but luckily enough for them your too hungry to push the topic further. So instead, you start to eat the lunch you’ve slaved over and enjoy this time with your family.

The meal is mostly quiet, albeit some sweet words of gratitude from the men at your table, thankful for the meal you prepared for them. You almost make it through the whole thing in peace, when a knock at your door startles the men.

“Finan? Sihtric! I know you are in there,” It’s Osferth, and he sounds rather frustrated. He knocks on the door again, a little harder, as the two men at your table start to slowly rise and head for the back room. “Open up! We need to talk, now!”

Finan and Sihtric start to sneak for the back door, shit-eating grins on both of their faces, “We were not here, Y/N, we have not been home all mornin’.” He tells you as they make their escape, leaving you there to roll your eyes and answer the door yourself.

When you open the door to greet Osferth, he looks absolutely flustered, “Osferth, how are you today?”

“Lady, I have been better,” He’s always so polite, the sweet former monk, and no matter how many times you tell him not to call you lady, he cannot seem to shake his manners, “I hate to bother you, but I need to speak with Finan and Sihtric.”

You chuckle, folding your arms across your belly, “You just missed them, but I have some stew left over from lunch if you are hungry.”

“I should be on my way, I really need to speak with them,” Osferth explains as he rubs at the back of his neck and you chuckle at the shyness he holds after years of friendship.

"Osferth, come in and tell me what my husband and Sihtric have done," You open your door wider and move to the side so he can come in, and after a second of hesitation, he sighs and complies.

Osferth walks over to the table that Aethelstan has managed to vanish from without you noticing and slumps into his seat, "I am going to kill them." He groans half-heartedly.

You laugh, grabbing him a clean bowl before joining him at the table, "What did they do?"

"Sihtric told Eadith I am interested in her, and then Finan had Aethelstan pick flowers for her saying they were from me," Osferth sighs heavily as you serve him some stew, "They've ruined everything."

"I thought you did fancy Eadith? What's the problem?" You ask him as you put the bowl of stew in front of him.

"She does not think of me in that way," He groans, looking defeated, "Now she'll think I'm a pervert who only wishes to hump her."

"Or she will think you are shy, and that Finan and Sihtric should mind their own business," You tell him as he eats through his frustration, "My husband may be a menace, but he does the stupid things he does out of love."

"She does not think of me in that way, Y/N," He tells you as he temporarily lowers his spoon, "She is beautiful… and I am just- a baby monk."

You laugh with a big smile across your face because your friend couldn't be any more wrong, "Is that really what you think? Osferth, she is clearly fallen for you."

"Do not pity me, Lady, I do not need your lies to lift my spirit," He tells, looking defeated as he finishes his stew.

"Enough of this," You tell him as you take away the dirty dishes and rise from your seat, "You will go to Eadith and confess your feelings, or I will send Aethelstan to do it for you."

"Y/N-"

"Go! Now, before the day is over," You command, shoo-ing him from your table, as he reluctantly rises, "And be sure to come back to thank me when it's over."

He groans as he walks out of your home, making you laugh as you start cleaning plates. A moment or two after he's gone, you can hear creaking coming from your bedroom, and then two big arms wrap around your body.

"Where is Sihtric?" You ask your husband, not needing to turn around to confirm it's him because you would recognize these arms anywhere.

"Gone home to his own wife," Finan tells you with a kiss, "Enjoyin' his final days before Osferth certainly murders us all."

"He will not murder anyone," You chuckle as you turn around, still in his arms, "Osferth may not have your confidence or Sihtrics' flirting skills but I am positive he will find that Eadith shares his feelings."

"How are you so sure?" Finan scrunches his brows in confusion, "And what do you know of how Sihtric flirts?"

You chuckle, standing on your toes to reach your husband's lips as you give him a kiss, "I just know things, my love, it is my gift from God."

Finan grabs you by the cheeks as you lower yourself, kissing you with much more passion, his lips still on yours as he growls, "If I find out Sihtric has tried to bed my wife-"

"It was long before you were mine," You tell him with a smirk, "No need to start anything over it now."

"That is my gift, mo ghrá," He snickers as his kisses move from your lips to your neck, "I am a Warrior of Menace, after all."

You couldn't argue with that as your warrior brings you back to bed, determined to show you just how much he was yours.

An excellent husband, indeed.

[jkl-fff]

Dipper and Norman, #50

Thanks for the prompt!

Comedy Golem

It was a rest stop like any other in the Northeast. Just a gas station with some picnic tables, surrounded by deciduous woodlands. But the car pulled into it all the same. Two young men—partners in work, partners in life, and partners not infrequently in actions of questionable legality (although “crime” was such a strong word)—then set themselves up at one of the picnic tables, producing sodas and sandwiches from a cooler.

Laying out a map of the Northeast, Dipper gestured towards a sizeable splotch of green in upper Pennsylvania. It was labeled “Alleghany National Forest”, its shape vaguely reminded Norman of an elephant’s head (with an upraised trunk), and it was clearly the epicenter of a wide swath of red post-its marked with names and some rather recent dates. “As you can see, we’ve got its—his? her? their? whatever—probable location pretty well pinned down.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Norman replied around a bite of sandwich. His tone was deadpan, as it usually was (perhaps an occupational hazard of being a Medium … or of spending most of his time around the Pines family and their own special brand of insanity). “Practically pinpoint accuracy, in fact. Only … 1000 square miles of untamed woodlands for us to search.”

“Pff! Untamed,” Dipper scoffed with the kind of elitist scorn only heard from people who hail from west of the Rockies whenever the subject of Appalachia’s wilderness is broached. “Right. Which means we might get as low as three bars during our investigation. How perilous. Besides, it’s barely even 800 square miles—I checked.”

“Of course you did.”

“But, nah, I think I’ve actually narrowed down the location even further. To riiiiiight … here.”

Norman craned his neck to read the spot his friend tapped (after lifting aside the veritable blanket of red post-its covering it, as it was the center of the epicenter). “… Squirrely Stars Campground. Huh. That why they call this thing ‘the Squirrel Hill Golem’?”

“Nah, that’s because the first sighting was in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh called Squirrel Hill.”

“… You’re yanking my chain. You’ve gotta be.”

“Nope.” Dipper gestured to that segment of the map. “Read it and gape in bewilderment. But, considering Pittsburgh has a massive Jewish population and that’s one of its major sectors, sorta makes sense a Golem would first come outta there. My research suggests it was a Rabbi named Mahara Chelmman who made it back in 1997 (although she wasn’t a Rabbi at the time she made the Golem), but that’s not 100% verified; could’ve been two other people.”

Norman considered that, and it all sounded reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate, since he was dealing with a Pines here. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “… So did the Golem run off from Pittsburgh a la f-Frankenstein’s Monster upon being rejected by its … Um. How ‘bout we just use a Third-Person, Singular ‘they’ for now?”

“Works for me.”

“Okay. Yada-yada, Frankenstein’s Monster rejected by their creator?”

That got a shrug in response. “Hard to say. Most accounts suggest everyone was cool with them. They might’ve just, like, decided they wanted to live their own life? It was the 90s …”

“So they ran off into the woods of Northern Pennsylvania for the next … twenty-ish years. Sure. Why not? Lots of mud out here—Golems do need m-mud, right?”

“It helps. Makes it easier for them to, like, heal or regenerate and such. Anyway, I’m thinking you will infiltrate the camp and blend in there—”

“Squirrely Stars,” Norman couldn’t help but smirk at the dumb name.

“—to find out what the people there know, maybe interview some Ghosts, too, if there are any. It’s where the highest concentration of sightings are clustered, so someone’s gotta be able to give us something workable.”

Norman nodded his assent. “Makes sense. I’m g-generally better at talking to people—”

“Right? Those were my thoughts exactly!” Dipper hastened to agree.

“—and not like you can communicate with Ghosts 97% of the time, anyway. What about you, though? If I’m doing the people-work at camp, what’re you gonna be doing?”

“Trek around the area out a ways from the camp. See what traces of the Golem I can forestry up. Footprints, magical energies, that sorta thing. Leg-work while you do the people-work. Also makes sense, right, since I’m better at that kinda stuff anyway?” Dipper asked. In a tone of voice that was … almost leading.

Which instantly made Norman a bit suspicious. But there wasn’t anything in that assessment either of them could disagree with, so he had to concede, “… I suppose you’re better at all the, um, stuff out in the woods—”

“Great!” Dipper was already halfway back to the car. “Let’s get moving! I’ll drop you off there.”

***TWO HOURS LATER*** PARKED OUTSIDE THE ENTRANCE TO A DIRT ROAD BENEATH A SIGN READING “SQUIRRELY STARS CAMPGROUND WARNING: NATURIST PROPERTY”

“Okay, but WHY do I have to be NAKED?!” Norman shrilled at the young man he had, until roughly five seconds ago, thought would always be his partner in life. Whereas now he was thinking that young man was about to be his former partner in life. Because he might kill him. Just straight-up murder him with a hefty tree branch or a sharp rock or maybe his bare hands.

Being a Medium meant their relationship wouldn’t have to end at death, true, but you couldn’t exactly call someone your “life partner” if they were dead. Especially if because you killed them by repeatedly smacking their face into the steering wheel or hurling them right into the sun or strangling them with their own seatbelt. That tended to sour most relationships.

“Look, I realize—”

“WHY does ANYONE have to be NAKED?!”

“Because it’s a nudist colony. Or … Well, maybe ‘nudist resort’ is more accurate?” Dipper mused aloud to himself. “Meh. Either way, ‘cause that’s the no-dress code here.”

“But WHY do I have to be NAKED?!”

“How else are you gonna infiltrate and then blend in at a nudist colony and/or resort? C’mon, man, you gotta think logically about this.”

“Yeah, but … WHY does ANYONE who is ME have to be NAKED?!”

“They prob’ly won’t talk to you if you’re not,” Dipper explained, his manner reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “Like, you’d make them uncomfortable .”

“Oh, well, I c-certainly wouldn’t want them to be uncomfortable!” Norman retorted witheringly.

“It won’t be for long. Just long enough to, y’know, fit in a little and scrounge some info.”

“Never worried about fitting in before,” Norman grumbled. “Don’t see why I should start now. Anyway, if this’s so easy, why aren’t y-you doing it?”

“You said it yourself: You’re better at talking to people, I’m better at ‘all the stuff in the woods’.” And Dipper couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face as he quoted him.

“… I hate you soo much right now.”

Dipper shrugged. “That’s fair. But, seriously though, it’s safer this way, too, ‘cause I’m Jewish.”

Norman blinked. Then he blinked again. “… What?”

“I’m Jewish, so the Golem won’t try to hurt me if they’re acting, like, confrontational.”

Norman shook his head. “Okay, no, I’m calling bullshit on that.”

“Dude, you know I’m Jew—”

“No, yes, I know you’re Jewish,” Norman snapped impatiently. “I mean I’m calling b-bullshit on that being some sorta, like, pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic protection from Golems.”

“Golems exist to protect Jewish people,” Dipper countered, a little condescendingly. “They, like, physically can’t hurt us. Everybody knows that—it’s the first thing you learn about Golems.”

“Even assuming that’s true—and I don’t assume it, in fact, I contest it—how in the 79 Hells’re you supposed, like, to prove your Jewishness (especially to a vaguely humanoid shape made outta mud)? You gotta yarmulke on under that stupid cap of yours I don’t know about?”

“First of all: screw you, my cap is iconic.” Dipper even took a moment to admire his reflection in the rearview mirror, straightened his cap ever so slightly, and made fingerguns at himself. “Second of all: I’ll just say a birkhot or something. Ooo! Maybe even one of the secret ones from the Kabballah! Though a regular one’d prob’ly work fine.”

“Oh, please, I c-could do that. Doesn’t prove anyth—”

“No, you could not. You don’t even know what a birkhot is.”

“It’s like … a prayer and magic incantation rolled into one,” Norman replied (albeit hesitantly).

“Pff! No, that’s not what a bir—”

“In fact, I’m 100% certain I’ve heard you describe birkhots exactly that way,” Norman asserted, not hesitant any longer. “Same way you d-describe the other (and I quote) ‘sorta pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic spells and incantations and stuff’ you’ve got memorized in pre-Catholic Latin and Ancient Greek and Old Nordic for whenever we gotta deal with a … y’know, with a demon-adjacent, supernatural entity.”

Dipper considered that a moment. Then he admitted, “Okay, maybe yeah, that does sound like something I’d say. But the point—”

“HA! Vindication!” And Norman pounded the dashboard in triumph.

“But the point is, I can recite ‘בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הַעוֹלָם, דָיַן הַאֱמֶת׃’ at the drop of a hat—wait! the drop of a freakin’ kippah—with all the additional, apotropaic hand signs … Whereas you can’t even do a basic exorcism or protective spell in any language.”

Norman crossed his arms and sulkily looked out the passenger window. “Well, s-some of us just t-talk to the spirits and such. Like a n-normal, polite person … w-works just fine … ” Eventually, he huffed, “Why in the 79 Hells is a Golem even hanging around a n-nudist colony?!”

“A resort, I think.”

“I will murder you,” Norman stated, as if making a solemn vow. “With … an ice cream scoop.”

“Heh! Love you, too. Soo … does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You haven’t even answered my question.”

“Honestly? No clue. I just kinda assumed the Golem turned out to be, like, a pervert? But maybe they feel more at home among other people who aren’t wearing clothes? But, anyway, will you? … C’mon, Normy-warmy,” Dipper wheedled, his voice taking on a cutesy, coaxing, pleadingly singsong tone. “Pleeeease, Normy-warmy?”

“… That is ch-cheating, and you know it.”

“Pleeeease help me with this Monster Hunt? You just gotta talk to some people (and/or Ghosts). It won’t even take that long. Heck, if the people in there are anything like me, once they see you naked, their brains’ll stop working due to awestruck amazement—”

Norman grumbled, “S-soo much cheating.”

“—and they’ll be soo mesmerized by your sexy body (and beautiful smile)—”

“Why am I dating such an honorless cheater?” But, despite his protests, Norman was blushing.

“—that they’ll be compelled to do whatever you want for, like, the rest of their lives. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”

Feebly, Norman made one final attempt. “…But I sunburn so easy—”

Dipper reached over to open the glove compartment. Inside was a bottle of SPF100 sunscreen.

“… Fffffine. But you owe me big.”

“Deal!”

“I’m talking, like, a solid w-week of pampering.”

“Deal!”

“Romantic dates. Fancy cooking. Back rubs on demand—”

“Deal!” And Dipper punctuated that with a kiss to Norman’s cheek. “Now strip! Oh, but you can leave your shoes and socks on (the nudists aren’t idiots, even if they are sorta nuts). And, also, they usually use backpacks for holding onto all their stuff. What with not having pockets.”

Pulling off his shirt, Norman sighed. “Why do I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this?”

[saitama-division]

🍏 Sayaka

🍅 Lola

🌺 Kureha

Well, first of all. It’s kinda rare for Sayaka to say “I had a bad day” in the first place, she’s got a bit of a bad habit to either suppress her bad feelings or just brush or play it off as not a big deal because she doesn’t want to worry others. Also, it really does take a lot for Sayaka to admit that she hasn’t had the best day, she’s really patient and can take a lot of what life can throw at her. But like everyone else, she does have a breaking point, when she finally does say “I had a bad day”, she really means it and you can tell, it can also go in a few ways.

By Herself: If she’s by herself (or if Lola and Kureha are both busy) then she’s gonna just sit on the couch for a bit, close her eyes, then relax her tired body. She’ll try to relax her mind and not think about the not so great day she’s had, she’ll do this for as long as she deems appropriate before getting up and finding her daughter (who most likely is in her own little world with her toys and plushies), she’ll play with her for a while before offering to help her make cookies and watch a movie. When both of them are all cozy on the couch and into the movie while nomming on some freshly baked cookies, that’s when Sayaka thinks that maybe today is not that bad, Good or bad, it’s all worth coming home to her bundle of joy.

With Lola and Kureha: Honestly, Sayaka doesn’t even have to say anything before Kureha and Lola are sitting her down on the couch and comfort her, allowing her to vent her frustrations about today. Despite trying her best not to inconvenience her teammates, they have known Sayaka long enough to know when she’s not feeling good. Lola tells her that she can vent about whatever she wants while she opens the wine bottle (Kureha refuses a glass and just drinks water) and Kureha allows her to lean her head on her shoulder while she albeit awkwardly rubs her back in a comforting manner. There are definitely a few times where Sayaka has cried due to stress from the day and love and appreciation for her teammates who frantically wipe her teams and try to get her to calm down.

Sorry to say but Lola is the hardest person to embarrass ever, you’re gonna have to try really, really hard if you want to fluster her, the woman pretty much has no shame and easily plays it off by being her cute and slightly oblivious persona in public. Seriously, you can say the raunchiest, dirtiest comment to her and she’ll barely bat a fucking lash before saying something somehow even more perverted and downright gross. You’re not the first person who’s tried and definitely are not the last as there are many people (mostly with malicious intentions) who tried to embarrass Lola in the past in an attempt to sabotage her fame, didn’t really worked out for them as Lola always finds a way to spin the situation into her favor.

What most people always do and fail is to try and embarrass Lola by being perverted and trying to see what’s up her dress, that doesn’t work because Lola has already seen and heard every dirty comment in the book and is pretty perverted herself, she’s also shameless so trying to embarrass her by chastising her doesn’t work (in fact, it’ll just piss her off). Look, you didn’t hear it from me but the closest way to get and see Lola flustered is by being genuine, don’t compliment her looks, it’ll just inflate her ego, compliment her personality, tell her she’s a role model, that it’s sweet that she cares about people, and that her past doesn’t define her, that she’s worth more than anything. She’ll most likely not believe you (if you’re not close to her) but you will catch her off guard.

Kureha raised a brow. “Would I want to modify my body? Uh, no.” She furrowed her brows. “I’m very happy with who I am thanks.”

“No dummy, they meant like if you want to add tails or horns, or something like that. Think like animal hybrids.”

Kureha blinked once, twice. “Ohh.” She said in realization. “Then I want cat traits.”

“Cat…traits?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Y’know, reflexes, heighten senses, even the whole ears and tail combo. I think it would be cool, plus, I can be closer to Kazu, I always wondered what it’d be like to be a cat.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I cannot fucking believe this, you want to be a catgirl!!”

Thank you for the ask!

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

Saruhiko Fushimi (FFVII Verse) - Wishlist, Character Dynamics

Some relationships, dynamics, things I’d love to explore for this muse in his FFVII verse~

Also note that while I do bring up romantic interest only for female characters here, I do am open for anything chemistry will fuel. Saru has immense gay power if I let him.

Also also, these are not listed in any particular order.

Yuffie Kisaragi: Yuffie was born the same year Saruhiko was extracted from the Crystal and brought to Wutai. With a biological age difference of 4 years between each other, I’d love to explore their relationship growing up in the same area. Potential childhood friendship, rivalry, or even romantic interest.

Wutai War: The war between Wutai and ShinRa breaks out during Saruhiko’s childhood. I imagine this means he’ll grow up in a very tense environment full of conflict and tension. While he’ll be too young to be a fighter, there is potential for him to at least have brief encounters with some key characters in the war: Deepground SOLDIERs, the Turks, AVALANCHE, and even the 1st Class heroes Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth, or 2nd Class SOLDIER Zack Fair during his Crisis Core mission there.

Reeve Tuesti: 8 years his senior (which became 15 years, thanks to Saruhiko’s cryostasis in Lucrecia’s Crystal), Reeve Tuesti will be a colleague and over time a friend to Saruhiko in the four years they work together in ShinRa. I’d love to see what kind of relationship would form between these two. Saruhiko is lacking a father figure or mentor of sorts, and I think Reeve has the potential to fill this void.

Barret Wallace: He will be Saruhiko’s “boss” starting his recruitment in AVALANCHE. While I can definitely imagine Barret distrusting him for being from ShinRa, Saruhiko’s background as a victim of the Wutai War could help them form a bridge between them, albeit a very rickety one. I think their interactions would be snarky, humorous and great potential for a fun grumpy boss / demotivated henchman dynamic.

Cid Highwind: Saruhiko is actually a very passionate space nerd, and I can totally see him having grown up as a kid seeing Cid as a role model and someone he respects. But would his image of his hero be crushed the moment he actually meets him and sees how he is? I’d love to find out.

Reno, Rude, Tseng, other Turks: Recruited super early at the age of 15 to join the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department (or “Turks”, most commoinly), Saruhiko would be the greenhorn of the group up for a while. Sure he’s got lots of smarts and they show, but his awful social skills will be getting in the way. How will his seniors and superior respond to this rebellious teenager? Big ‘senpai/kouhai’ vibes here, especially from Reno.

Doctor Hojo: In the few years Saruhiko will be working in Shinra, running into his biological father will be inevitable. I wonder if Hojo would even recognize him at all, or if he does, in what form he’d react. He’s his son, but also just a discarded specimen. There is more to Saruhiko’s looks and mannerisms (and intelligence, especially) that will compare to Hojo more than his mother, and while Saruhiko sorely despises the man and what he did, he cannot deny respecting his perverted genius to some degree. An enemy you love to hate, and a very rare kind of dynamic to roleplay that I hope to get.

Nanaki / Red XIII: Saruhiko would meet Nanaki when he’s a prisoner in ShinRa HQ as one of Hojo’s specimens. While initially thinking nothing of it and considering the creature just as any other monster, Saruhiko might warm up to Nanaki upon discovering that he can talk and actually belongs to a proud and intelligent race. I could totally see him spending his lunch breaks just leaning against Red’s cage and passing the time. Biologically speaking, the two would be around the same age, and likely share a similar mindset. Red’s honorable and collected nature could have a brotherly, positive influence on the edgy boy.

Vincent Valentine: Out of everyone else, Saruhiko would be the one closest to realizing the connection that lies between Vincent, Lucrecia, Sephiroth and himself. While his research at ShinRa would only inform him that he and Sephiroth are in fact not full-blood twins, I can imagine Saruhiko wondering who between them is actually Hojo’s son, and who the other’s father may be. Investigating on the Nibelheim Incident, the Jenova Project, and tracing back the work left behind by Lucrecia, it might be possible for him to find the thread that will lead him to the former Turk. How they’d regard each other is a mystery to me, but I can predict lots of angst and potential family ties drama. Saruhiko resembles Lucrecia in many things (I like to think he has her eyes), that could affect Vincent, but the shadow of Hojo is also there. How would Vincent feel?

Jessie Rasberry: Jessie and Saruhiko have very complementary skills that will bring them to often work as a duo in AVALANCHE. A few years older, I could picture her as being a positive figure in Saruhiko’s life, possibly one that might charm him to the point of developing into a crush~

Tifa Lockhart: Thanks to his cryostasis, Saruhiko will be the same age as Tifa when they first meet in Midgar. Her warm but energetic mannerisms strongly remind me of the bond between Saruhiko and Misaki Yata in K Project, which inevitably makes me biased for ship potential. While Saruhiko isn’t exactly a flirt, I can at least expect Tifa to become one of his favorite people to be around in AVALANCHE. His interest in her would only intensify once he learns she is a survivor of the Nibelheim Incident, and while this can be great, it may also be cause of angst, as his darkest obsession for the case and his desire for revenge may get in the way of more ‘unimportant’ things like romance or friendship with her.

Aerith Gainsborough: Saruhiko’s potential to meet Aerith would begin after the Nibelheim Incident, when he’s just moved to Midgar to work as a Turk for ShinRa. A very young new recruit, he may be sent to watch over her as his group is often tasked to do, and deal with the flower girl while she’s disheartened and waiting for her missing boyfriend Zack to return. Aerith’s personality may be a bit ‘too much’ for Saruhiko to handle, who is often put off when people are too friendly and carefree to him. He may even consider her a bit airheaded and stupid, but generally unable to hate her. Can her perceptive nature possibly touch and heal his heart tormented with desire for vengeance? Some potential sibling love kind of bond for sure. Romantic interests would strongly rely on chemistry with the roleplayer.

Cloud Strife: As another survivor of the Nibelheim Incident, Cloud is of strong interest to Saruhiko. This is only reinforced once the two are forced to cooperate as members of AVALANCHE. Saruhiko is, alongside Tifa, the only one in the group to know that the blond is lying about having belonged to SOLDIER 1st Class. A tense form of frenemies dynamic is expected out of these two, as they alternate clashing their strong-but-similar personalities to working together as a team. Big angst potential, once each other’s ties to Sephiroth finally emerge, as well as their opposing plans about him.

Sephiroth: Saruhiko’s most hated. In his warped logic, Saruhiko sees Sephiroth as the very embodiment of all the wrongdoings that were done to him and their mother. Rather than feel a brotherly attachment towards him, he sees Sephiroth as the very cause of his own torment and pain. Saruhiko firmly believes that the only reason the S Project came to be was because the very IDEA of Sephiroth, as he is, was in the mind of Doctor Hojo. Had such an entity never been conjured, many lives would be far better off. Saruhiko’s own character arc has Sephiroth at its center, and he’ll be struggling between hatred he cannot overcome, as well as his need for acceptance and coming to terms with his own feelings to move on. While I do RP Sephiroth in the megaverse this character belongs to, I’m definitely open to exploring their dynamic in spin-off threads for other Sephiroth RPers.

GLaDOS: (verse dependent) For plotting reasons, this muse is controlled only by myself, as it has a heavy plot I’ve personally come up with. Saruhiko has a complicated relationship with ShinRa’s AI. Initially considering her little more than a machine for him to toy with, he regards her as the source through which the truth of his origins was revealed to him. Regarding her as a product of his childish curiosity, and an enemy to challenge and defeat while he’s a member of AVALANCHE, discovering that GLaDOS’ identity contains the consciousness of Lucrecia will critically affect Saruhiko’s psyche and bring him to ask a lot of questions about himself. Eventually, he is bound to develop feelings similar to the love for a mother towards the AI, to the point he will sacrifice himself for her safety against Meteorfall.

[cutietobio]

shiratorizawa you say? i’m not sure if this would fall into full nsfw so if this makes you uncomfortable then feel free to delete it bb! i would never want u to be uncomfortable at all. so how abt ushi and semi (separate) doing homework or watching movies in their dorm when their fem s/o sits on their lap and teases them. The boy ends up gripping onto their s/o and fingering them until they’re an overstimulated mess. i hope this is okay!!

first n s f w request, I hope it's satisfactory! (this is super anti-climatic but pls be gentle with me this is like...my first time writing nsfw, i felt like a freak and made semi’s one a bit kinky oo)

USHIJIMA

“(Name),” Ushijima warned firmly as you sat on his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck and pushing yourself closer into him.

“Hmm?” you hummed out in reply, feigning innocence with wide eyes and an innocuous smile.

Ushijima remained silent, although he shifted beneath you uncomfortably. Your eyes narrowed in a predatory manner, proud in your achievement of having him squirm beneath you. The concentrated glint in his eyes from before had vanished completely and you knew you had stolen his attention from the science books scattered among his desk.

“Ushi,” you whine out in a sultry tone, taking special care in directing the breath of your words to fan gently against his neck. You shift in his lap, pressing your ass down upon his crotch with the purpose of riling him up further.

You catch the sight of his eyebrows furrowing up and the evident clenching of his jaw, but he’s stubborn and refuses to meet your gaze or follow along with your lewd acts. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the pages of complicated scientific theories.

“Take a break,” you whine, bawling the material of his shirt in your fist and tugging at it lightly.

“Having sex isn’t considered a break,” he states with a nonchalant reply, his straightforwardness makes you flustered and you feel your cheeks burning up as an effect of his obscene words.

“I wasn’t implying-“

“Are you sure? Explain why you’re grinding against me, then,” his eyes snap down to meet your own and the intensity of them steals your breath away. You’re unable to think of a reply, stunned by the lustful gaze of your boyfriend. Your mouth is agape in vacuity and you watch as Ushijima lowers his lips to your own.

The gap is closed by your own doing and your lips meet in a kiss that is heated from the start. If you were in a state to process anything other than the engaging make out, you would have felt the hardening of his boner beneath you. You jolt in sudden alert at the feel of feather-light touches tracing up the exposed skin of your inner thigh. It took a second to process that it was indeed Ushijima’s fingers touching you so delicately.

They travelled candidly up the hem of your skirt, with Ushijima turning his hand to barely brush his knuckles against your clothed slit. A moaned into the kiss in anticipation before both of you broke away in order to catch your breaths. Ushijima’s parted lips lingered above your own as he stared into your eyes which pooled with awakened desire.

You tried reaching up to kiss him further, only for him to lean back in avoidance. Whining in complaint, you pulled at the material of his shirt, beckoning that he stop teasing you and come closer.

“I want to see you,” came his blunt vindication, the meaning behind his words sent heat rushing down to your core. Seeing that you would no longer put up a fuss, Ushijima turned his attention to your bottom half. Your skirt was pushed higher up your torso so he could have a good look at you. The appealing lace underwear that you wore earned a side glance from him as he wondered whether you were planning this from having got dressed that morning.

Gently, he tugged the material to the side, exposing your arousal to the temperature of the room. You squirmed at the feeling but it didn’t last long with the welcoming feeling of a long finger dipping inside of you. Ushijima concentrated deeply on his actions, his stare was so intent you were beginning to decipher whether it was any different compared to the concentration he displays during volleyball matches. The thought elicited a small laugh from you, breaking Ushijima’s focus as he spared you a quick glance before immediately returning his gaze on his second finger slipping into you.

“You look so-ah..serious, ushi,” you remark through a gasp at the feeling of his fingers stretching your walls. He grunts out, a mere acknowledgement that he heard you. He wasn’t one to get flustered easily if anything he thought his concentration was justified. It’s almost as if he senses your displeasure to his half-assed reply, as the pace that he’s pumping his fingers into you increases.

Soft moans leave your mouth as you sub-consciously spread your legs further apart, craving his touch in a more suitable position. You melt into his touch when you feel his thumb rubbing small circles onto your clit. His pressure increases and you gasp out at the feeling. With his magical touches and proper experience on all the right ways to get you off, you find yourself orgasming only minutes after. 

“A-ah, stop!” you whine out, struggling in his hold as you feel yourself growing sore from the overstimulation. Instantly, the fingers inside of you stop and the thumb abusing your clit has come to a halt. Your chest heaves with heavily laboured breaths, Ushijima is breathing harder than normal from the arm workout.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, you’re able to pick up the genuine undertone in his voice that others would have missed and immediately have regarded his apology as insincere. 

You give him a breathless smile, “My turn.”

SEMI

Being invited over to watch movies in Semi’s dorm was a common occurrence. Nine out of ten times, the both of you disregarded the film after the first forty minutes and it served as background noise for the rest of the night while you both became tangled together underneath the sheets.

However, you were taken by surprise when Semi told you to meet him in the dorm’s common room to watch a movie that particular Friday night. When you arrived, a lot of the other Shiratorizawa team members were scattered among the couches. Suspicion consumes you instantly and you narrow your eyes upon your approaching boyfriend.

“I saved us a spot,” he held his hand out for you to take, which you did, albeit hesitantly. You looked around at the faces of everyone else, but nobody seemed very suspecting of everything. Feeling a bit at ease that this wasn’t some scheme, you relaxed into the couch with your boyfriend. His arm instantly wrapped around your shoulders and you wasted no time laying your head on his collarbone.

You felt compelled to ask why he decided to change the setting of your usual movie nights, and still invite friends, but right now wasn’t the time to do so. Assumingly, he wanted his girlfriend to bond with his own friends, but Semi never cared too much about such things. Deciding to shrug it off, for now, you concentrated on the movie playing.  

His teammates turned out to be quite amusing, especially Tendou, who gave his comments on certain parts that sent the majority of you into giggle fits. Upon a certain remark, you erupted into laughter along with a few others but the feeling of a warm hand slipping into the front of your sweatpants caused your breath to hitch in your throat. 

You froze in spot as the hand continued it’s descent further down, tugging your underwear to the side and rubbing at your slightly moist folds. You didn’t have to turn to know Semi was looking at you. Grabbing at the blanket covering you both, you bunched it up in a way that if someone were to look over, they wouldn’t see the obvious outline of your boyfriend’s arm in a questionable position.

You gripped at his wrist and his movements stilled, he was waiting for you to do something. It would be a wiser decision to tug his hand out and not risk being caught and declared as perverts by his friends, but your wettening arousal pooling between your legs urged you to let him continue. Growing tired by your hesitance, Semi boldly slipped a finger inside of you, revelling over the sight of watching you squirm and sink completely back into the couch cushions. He took it as a sign of preparation for what was about to come.

You grew wetter within seconds and Semi took the opportunity to slip in a second finger with the help of your natural lubricant. He gave an experimental thrust and watched your face being covered by the blankets as you hid away your warped expression of pleasure. Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as you felt your boyfriend finger f*ck you underneath the blankets. Despite the constraint of his full potential to not draw any attention, he was doing the best he could to get your orgasming as quick as he could.

His fingers slipped out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling. You raised your head in question, just as his fingers began rubbing at your clit. Semi kept his eyes trained to the TV, and you hid your face in the crook of his neck. It was difficult to maintain your moaning, so you opted to squeeze at his arm and bite down into the material of your sleeve. His movements upon your clit quickened and your leg jolted lightly at the wave of pleasure which rushed through your lower body. Semi gripped your leg with his free hand, keeping it stable before it could catch any attention.

Upon orgasming, your hold on his arm grew, despite in being a bit uncomfortable, Semi couldn’t exactly blame you for abusing his arm and possibly cutting off his blood circulation. As if getting you to orgasm wasn’t enough, Semi continued his assault on your puffy and sensitive clit. Instantly, you clamped your thighs shut, trapping his hand and rendering it immobile. Your boyfriend still tried moving his fingers but was interrupted as you pinched hard at his arm. 

After the movie, Semi brought you to his room where you demanded and explanation.

“It’s one of my kinks,” he states casually, shrugging lightly. You stare at him, arms crossed. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it?” he questions with a raise of an eyebrow, although, he already seems to know the answer to that question. You refuse to respond, but the sight of his smirk causes you to drop your arms in surrender.

“It was really hot..until you tried to overstim me!” you grab at a nearby pillow and fling it at him. And that’s how the rest of your night went, calling him a kinky pervert and receiving a good apology afterwards. 

[crimsoncondor]

Kakegurui: Psychological Analysis of Midari Ikishima (Anime)

Color Symbolism Theory:

https://bloodorangesangria.tumblr.com/post/164215619840/kakegurui-color-theory-midari-ikishima-purple

Refer to Card 41 (Sexual Masochism Disorder [SMD]) in the following set:

https://quizlet.com/340466138/abnormal-psychology-sexual-disorders-flash-cards/

DSM-5 criteria supports the notion Midari experiences SMD symptoms:

https://www.merckmanuals.com/professional/psychiatric-disorders/sexuality,-gender-dysphoria,-and-paraphilias/sexual-masochism-disorder

This is a description of the ESTP personality type:

https://www.16personalities.com/estp-personality

Pathological gambling presents itself in ways akin to Midari's derangement:

https://www.ukessays.com/essays/psychology/a-study-on-pathological-gambling-as-an-addiction-psychology-essay.php

(Note the latter source is theoretical. It is possible psychosexual and nurture-related factors contribute to gambling addiction.)

The neuroscience behind pathological gambling indirectly aligns with Midari's mindsets and functions:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3858640/

Footnotes:

Midari has dealt with anhedonia and hedonism for years and submitted to her innate impulses in extreme portions to reassure herself she is human. Nobody seems to care for her due to her erratic mannerisms and regular exposure to individuals with apathetic tendencies such as Kirari and Runa, so she has felt outcasted. She also seems largely disinterested in others because of this treatment, but she is ecstatic in the presence of Jabami, whom she believes can understand her. This perceived lack of belonging has resulted in suicidal thoughts and an identity crisis, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she wishes to live, so she continually lingers on the verge of life and death through gambling. When deprived of this pleasure she forces on herself, Midari displays mania such as during her altercation with Erimi in Season 2, Episode 2. As a sexually developed teenager who never receives affection from others, she will naturally be perverted to some extent, but this is amplified by her other baggage. The scene in Season 1 where she removes her own eye in front of Kirari to repay debt perfectly summarizes her duality, hardships, and contradiction.

Her occasionally slurred and dramatic speech further defends the idea she is disinterested in her environment, but it may also indicate a disability. She appears slightly deformed, but this may be untrue considering most of the characters possess unusual designs, and she is very simplistic, narrow-minded, and instinctive, which is typical of people with limited cognitive capacities, albeit this is probably linked to her other issues as well. There are some occasions where Midari exposes the insecurities of other characters in a blunt but accurate way like in her conversation with Yumemi in Season 2, Episode 5 and description of Sayaka's past, but this rarely occurs because she is frequently lost in her own thoughts or unfeeling for people. It is somewhat possible her unhealthy fixations mask genuine intellect. At minimum, she is immature given her age.

Midari's design is a combination of both stylish and unkempt, which means she likely attempts to charm men but is not very talented at it, either due to a lack of interest, poor motor skills, or a misunderstanding of the desires of others in comparison to her own. She projects her lust onto others because it is the sole sensation she knows, and she wishes for her peers to savor the same pleasure, which is similar to Jabami's perspective on gambling. This is one of the main reasons Midari resonates with her. This in some regards presents itself as a lesbian infatuation with her, and her design slightly reflects this due to its faintly tomboyish features. Her voice is a tad androgynous, which may be deliberate as it is with many lesbians. Her assymetrical eyes may symbolize her paradoxical existence --- with the bare eye representing the external and the concealed eye signifying the internal. From a general view, it could represent her duality as a whole rather than specific contrasts or vice versa. Her headpiece has hearts on it, implying she needs love but is warped in the head. Midari is visibly desperate and isolated, so she may be accustomed to others' disgust towards her and unfamiliar with positive emotions like love. The pain of being loathed is one of the many miseries she lies to herself about; the woman convinces herself she enjoys it to cope. Nevertheless, she is not entirely unsympathetic, which is subtly insinuated by her investment in Jabami and lecture towards Yumemi about her absence of talent.

According to the Kakegurui wiki, "Midari" translates to "reckless" and "chaotic" while Ikishima means "hope", "aspiration", "intention", "motive", "plan", "resolve", "shilling", and "to wear". Midari's forename is obviously applicable to her behaviors, but her surname is enigmatic and ironic; she is unsure of her own objectives, yet it implies a sure sense of purpose. Combined with her forename, however, this is more sensible because her goals are stubborn, mad, and counterintuitive. On the other hand, the meaning "to wear" may allude to Midari's fashionable look and role. Additionally, the girl "wears" her abnormality like a badge of honor, and she is "worn" out because of her circumstances and hurdles.

Midari's personality type is almost indescribable, but the most prominent possibility is ESTP, also known as the Entrepreneur. She is a very unhealthy case, and she is somewhat ambiverted. Her position in the student council reflects a social nature, but this is not necessarily evidence in itself; she is talkative and desperate for affection, but the kind of attention she seeks is incomprehensible to most, so she tends to be isolated. She asserts herself in situations with methods others are throw off or often revolted by, never hesitating to scrutinize on the basis of her observations, which are frequently more accurate and insightful than what many of her peers could muster. This is displayed when she describes Sayaka to Yuriko and criticizes Yumemi's strategies for stardom. Unless her obsessions obstruct her ability to ruminate analytically, she is largely logical and unbiased, so her fundamental thought processes are more rational than emotional in everyday circumstances. Due to her overall disconnection from tangible, concrete reality and reliance on risks and probability, it is obvious she possesses many intuitive qualities, but these do not quite dominate her sensory ones. Midari usually approaches casual issues pragmatically and with tactility; she views personal experience as her primary method of comprehension and views these events as snapshots of a greater picture. Midari improvises much of the time and does not seem to limit herself to a timetable or routine, so her prospecting traits overpower her judging traits. The girl's unstable and inconsistent reactions render her fifth letter a T rather than an A. Hence, her acronym stands for "Extroverted, Observant, Thinking, Prospecting, Turbulent". Considering the severe but immeasurable despair she has experienced over the years, her personality has slightly changed, albeit she was clearly demented from the beginning. The enneagram personality test is highly controversial, and the alignment chart is rather one-dimensional, so neither shall be used for her. However, via the latter system, Midari would certainly be chaotic.

Midari is not directly connected to Kakegurui's themes, but she is one of the worst possible products of them. She is the outcome of oppression caused by capitalism and Christianity when left to their own devices.

[javocjovian]

No Rest For The Wicked - SPN Kink/ABO Bingo

Title: No Rest For The Wicked Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916011 Square Filled: Tentacle Kink (Kink Bingo), Monster Cocks (ABO Bingo) Ship: Sam x The Empty Rating: E Tags: Tentacle/Goo Monster, Sam is swallowed by goo, Sensory Deprivation, Multiple Orgasms, All The Way In, Deepthroating, Milking, Sounding, Knotting, Slick, Beta!Sam Summary: Sam makes an unexpected deal with the Empty to free Cas. Is Sam in over his head, or is he actually a massive pervert? (Spoiler alert: he's both) Word Count: 4798

Beta-ed by @shikaros-blog​

Quote:

Sam knew he had peculiar proclivities. He'd made peace with that. He gave Dean crap about his taste in porn, but if Dean ever went through Sam's harddrive he’d probably try to exorcise Sam. Sam understood this. Still, he was pretty sure he’d just been propositioned by a monster, the strangest monster Sam had ever encountered, and Sam was finding it hard to ignore the creeping, gleaming tendrils lurking in the darkness behind his clone, undulating incessantly. 

Sam Winchester had never been in a stranger situation. The plan he'd made with Death—to break into the Empty and rescue Castiel—was a bonafide Winchester plan: crazy, impossible, bordering on suicidal, but it went off without a hitch. Death had been surprisingly on board with it, too. Maybe she was hoping the Winchesters would get themselves lost in the Empty so she wouldn't have to ditch them there herself. Either way, she was happy to comply. Except, she only agreed to send Sam. Why she'd skip on the chance to ditch both brothers in the Empty was beyond them, but after a heart-to-heart conversation Dean agreed to let Sam go alone. Neither Sam nor Dean had any idea that in a few short hours Sam would be in a situation he could have never dreamed of.

What started as a rescue plan went all sorts of wrong. Sam ran into the entity known as The Empty right away. It assumed Sam's form, which was eerie enough, but it's voice was the most unnerving of all. It was Sam’s own voice, but warped. It was hollow and melodic, and sent shivers down Sam’s spine.

"Well of course Death sent you. I asked her to." Sam’s dark double trilled.

Sam had been fearing that, but it didn't break his determination to rescue Cas. But then the Empty gave him a proposition.

"You're not completely human, are you?" The eerie Sam circled him. "Hmm. No, no, no... You're not. I've been watching you, Sam. Hoping to see what makes you so special. Mm, yes… how about… I send Castiel home, in exchange for a favor?"

Sam was definitely unnerved. He’d come expecting a fight, but the Empty was ready to send Castiel right back to Earth.

"What favor?"

The Empty Sam smiled greedily. “Let me in. Oh no, not like those pesky angels. Let me just... explore you. Let me take you apart. See what makes you tick. You might enjoy it, Sam Winchester."

Sam's whole world paused. A decades old struggle immediately resurfaced in his mind.

Sam knew he had peculiar proclivities. He'd made peace with that. He gave Dean crap about his taste in porn, but if Dean ever went through Sam's harddrive he’d probably try to exorcise Sam. Sam understood this. Still, he was pretty sure he’d just been propositioned by a monster, the strangest monster Sam had ever encountered, and Sam was finding it hard to ignore the creeping, gleaming tendrils lurking in the darkness behind his clone, undulating incessantly.

Sam's lips formed the word "fine" before his brain could give it any more thought. The word was an admission, one that Sam would never share with another living soul.

"You'll send me and Cas back to Earth after?" Sam asked quietly.

"Oh, definitely,” the Empty smirked, twitching Sam’s own lips at him.

And that was how Sam found himself in what was possibly the most unusual situation he'd ever been in.

Sam didn’t have time to wonder how this would work, or what the Empty really meant by 'take him apart'. In less than a second the Empty Sam turned black, dissolved into a shapeless black mass, and seized the real Sam.

Sam was caught off guard and thrashed instinctively, but it proved to be useless. The goo was like quicksand, and it was infinitely stronger than Sam. He could do nothing to prevent the Empty from consuming him. Sam took steady breaths and closed his eyes, repeating to himself “This is for Cas. This is to save Cas.” Soon he was bound in a heavy, undulating goo, swallowed whole by the Empty.

 When Sam opened his eyes, the darkness of the void had been replaced by a blackness deeper than anything Sam had ever seen. He wondered if this was what it was like being sucked into a black hole. He couldn’t move against the mass, but it billowed around him freely, churning and exploring Sam's body.

Sam felt it creep up his shirt, exposing his skin to the strangest sensation he had ever left. It was like solid water, or maybe liquid mass. It felt wet but left no trail or mark. It travelled up his body in viscous tendrils, touching every inch of his skin like it was counting Sam's atoms. The main mass coiled around Sam, spreading his limbs apart. Sam felt it probe up his back, around his neck and ears, then it began creeping down the hem of his pants.

Sam shut his eyes tight. He would never admit it, but he would have consented to this even if the Empty didn't have Castiel as a hostage. There was something about the way the Empty gleamed, it's inky black body shifting between liquid and solid, long amorphous tendrils probing everywhere. Sam was enthralled. Still, he couldn’t help but struggle as the tendrils wrapped around his thighs, sliding over his most sensitive areas. It latched onto every inch of Sam, from his fingers to his toes, then it finally curled around his cock.

Sam swore. It was such a strange sensation that, even as pleasure began to spread through his groin, his body jerked and twitched convulsively. Sam counted his breaths as the Empty consumed his cock. Separate tendrils ventured out from the mass to wrap around his balls. There wasn’t a single part of Sam not consumed by the vicious goo. Everything was being touched and caressed, and Sam had the impression that the Empty was examining him. Any pleasure it was causing was simply coincidental.

The mass pressed down all around him, yet undulated ceaselessly over his body, moving and swirling. Sam’s clothes had been dissolved, and he couldn’t see a thing. He didn’t know how he was breathing. Then he heard a voice in his ear—that same, warped, melodic voice.

“Oh, oh Sam. Sam Winchester. Hiding your secrets from me?”

Sam tried to shake his head, failed, and mustered out, “No.” The goo crept over his lips and Sam sputtered. It didn’t taste like anything but he didn't know what would happen if he got any in his mouth. “I’m not hiding anything,” he mumbled.

“Oh but you are. You are. I’ll have to go deeper. Take you apart. Inch by inch.”

As the Empty said it, Sam felt the mass press on his lips. “Mmf, n…” Sam tried to protest, but the goo around him was too strong. He felt his jaw pried open and the thick goo invaded his mouth in a heartbeat. It slid down his tongue, a jarring sensation in itself, then it ventured down his throat. Sam’s body reacted of its own accord, seizing and convulsing for breath, but then Sam realized he wasn’t actually choking. He could feel his lungs inflating comfortably even as the goo pressed on his lips and nose and filled his mouth and throat.

“I won’t kill you, Sam,” the Empty informed him. “No, no, that wouldn't do. Need you alive for this. So just… relax.”

Sam didn’t see much of an option. The Empty was right. He took a deep breath from nowhere, and found his ability to breathe quite unimpaired.

“Good, good,” The Empty purred. “A Beta like you… surprisingly virile. Complex…”

The Empty seemed to be speaking to itself as it moved slowly into Sam’s body, deeper and deeper. It was an intense, intimate sensation, and it made Sam feel full in an unexpectedly pleasurably way.

Once the shock of the sensation wore off, Sam realized the Empty was doing a lot of undulating around Sam’s cock. It was stroking and petting him, moving along every inch and creavase. Sam’s heart leapt and his body heated up. It felt like the Empty was trying to soothe him, albeit in a completely self-serving manner.

“I said relax.”

Sam's thoughts were slowing down, blurring around the edges as the goo caressed his cock and balls, and even the sensitive area in between. Sam had a hard time fighting off the sensations, and momentarily lost himself in them.

The Empty sensed that its strategy was working, so it began moving tantalizingly over every inch of Sam’s body. His palms, his neck, the soles of his feet, everywhere. Sam’s body trembled.

“Good. Very good."

The sound seemed to be coming from inside Sam’s head. Sam felt the mass around him spread his limbs out wider. It was molding his position, arching his back and bending his knees for him. Sam realized at once what was coming next.

"I need to go deeper. Try to enjoy it."

The mass’s movements became focused on Sam’s entrance. Sam jerked convulsively, but he barely caused a ripple in the goo. Just as it had covered his lips and opened his mouth, the mass pressed all around his entrance, spreading his cheeks and massaging the tight ring of muscle to slip inside.

Sam tried to move his body, to close himself off in any way, but it was like being suspended in tar. He could only writhe as a tentacle began filling his body. The mass continued to spread and swirl at his entrance as a gradually widening tentacle of goo probed deeper and deeper. The sensation was too much and Sam groaned. The sound was lost in the goo.

The Empty seemed absolutely uninterested in Sam's pleasure, using it only as a means to manipulate his body. It made Sam feel more helpless than ever. He summoned every ounce of self control not to fall apart as the Empty invaded him deeper than anything he’d ever felt in his life. His whole body was shaking. His cock was throbbing. His lips and hole were both quivering. The tentacle in his ass kept slithering coincidentally over his prostate, and it made Sam’s resolve crack piece by piece.

“There we are. Almost.”

Sam groaned. He couldn't take it. His hole was now stretched wider than ever, filled to the brim. His resolve slipped only once, but it was enough to flood him with pleasure. He felt the goo churning in and over his body and his cock became completely hard at last.

The Empty was eager to encourage this submission. The goo around Sam's cock shifted, and Sam felt it swirling around his cockhead. It was too slow to do anything but provide a constant stream of mind numbing pleasure. Sam could feel himself leaking precum. Every undulation against his prostate was milking it out of him. The Empty seemed interested in this. It wove around Sam’s cockhead and sucked, and Sam felt his body try to gasp. When the next undulation fell over his prostate, Sam felt even more precum leak out.

“Hmm…" The Empty crooned, "This must feel good, Sam. I told you you might enjoy it."

Sam whined as he felt the mass in his body change course. Sam knew he'd given away a weakness. He could feel more goo being sent into his ass. It took on a new shape, one with infinitely coiling ridges that brushed continuously over his prostate. Sam moaned and trembled. He’d never experienced anything like it. It was firm like a cock, but its shape was bizarre, colossal, stimulating Sam in places he never knew he had. It touched that delicate barrier of too-much, but never crossed over.

"That's good, isn't it Sam? I can tell. Oh, but you're doing so well now. Does this feel good?"

The Empty had found the perfect spot to milk Sam’s cock, and it kept it up while it continued to explore Sam’s body. Sam’s thoughts had stalled completely. The entire universe became the next stroke to his prostate, the next suck, the next massage to his balls and coil around his body. Sam would have gone completely limp if not for the continuously jarring sensation of being stroked from head to toe. Then the empty spoke again.

“I think you’ll really like this next part, Sam. I hope you do. I know I will.”

Sam didn’t know what else could possibly be done to him. He had no idea how any of this was providing the Empty with useful information. But he also didn’t want it to stop. This was the messed up part of him, the freak, the inhuman side that he’d never reveal to Dean. That part of Sam was in Heaven, ironically.

The suction gave way to petting again, and Sam’s cock went from blissfully numb to twitching with every touch. Each pet felt like electricity, coursing through his body and merging with the tendrils filling him from the inside. Then the goo at his cockhead shifted, and a small tentacle began to form and rubbed Sam’s slit.

Sam’s whole body lurched, but he only became more lodged in the goo. He gasped as the tentacle found purchase and began entering Sam’s cockslit. The small space opened up around the tentacle, which slithered mercilessly into Sam’s cock. Sam’s whole body clenched.

“Shh, relax, Sam. Just feel it. It feels good, doesn't it?”

Sam’s cock twitched and throbbed as the tendril slid deeper. He’d never felt anything so intense in his life. The inside of his cock was beyond sensitive, and the wiggling, swirling tendril caressed every inch. Flares of ecstasy licked at his insides, shocking him with pleasure, and Sam could do nothing but take it. Slowly, he felt the stimulation travel deeper, and he realized it would soon reach his prostate from a new angle. The impending stimulation seemed to finally break Sam, and he hung helplessly in the goo, unable to divert the tendril’s course. At last it reaches Sam’s prostate and pressed against it curiously.

If Sam hadn’t anticipated it, he might not have realized he was cumming. His body was so overwhelmed, so engulfed and wrapped up in endless sensation. Sam felt his cock pulse around the tendril and his nerves erupt with pleasure. The goo seemed to suck the cum right out of him.

Sam couldn’t remember even having such a strong, or long, orgasm. It seemed to spread through his every atom, then hang there for several long moments, spurred on by the goo sliding and engulfing every inch of his body. When his orgasm finally began to recede, he felt more tentacles emerging. The mass around him was churning and the Empty’s voice rang in his ear.

“There, Sam. Now, let's keep going.”

Sam moaned in exhaustion as more tentacles began sliding into his ass and throat, spreading him further. More narrow vines began slipping into his cock. He swore he could feel his stomach bulging.

Sam couldn’t move. His body was now hypersensitive, and every tiny movement shocked him with pleasure, but he could do nothing about it.

"Now then, I believe you're a Beta, correct? Like your brother? Yes, Alphas and Omegas are rare, aren't they? But you know… the recipe is all here,” The Empty mused.

Sam felt like the goo was invading his very molecules, prodding and poking him from the inside.

"Everything you need is right here, on the inside. I can make your body do all sorts of things."

As the Empty said it, Sam felt a strange sensation invade his body. He tried to calm his breathing, but nothing could dilute the sensation of being caressed inside and out by countless, morphing tentacles. His hypersensitivity reached its peak and all Sam could do was hold on as his body was pushed to the brink of unbearable pleasure. Just then, he felt a wetness begin to leak down his thighs. It was almost a relief. It made his ass incredibly receptive to the tentacles and Sam moaned in surprise.

"See? Your body is producing slick. It's opening up for me even more. Do you feel it?"

Sam's body shook. Sure enough, he felt his ass tingling with a hunger he'd never felt before. He could feel the oddly shaped tentacle more than ever as it moved through him. Then it slid down, almost completely out of his ass. His soaking wet hole stretched wide around each rivet, back and forth, until the tentacle came to a stop. Just as Sam's ass began aching to be filled again, the tentacle reentered him. Sam's whole body lurched and he shouted in ecstasy.

The Empty made a victorious sound. "Oh yes, I'll bet that feels good. Slick does amazing things to the body. Those lucky Omegas."

It was right, Sam had never felt such pleasure, especially not so soon after an orgasm. The cock like tentacle proceeded to thrust in and out of Sam, fucking him roughly. Sam swore and writhed, his breathing becoming harsh. He felt the Empty taking full advantage of Sam's distraction and began probing him without reservation. Sam felt utterly degraded, and it was bliss.

When the tentacles in Sam's cock started to bob back and forth, fucking the inside of his cock in time with the massive tentacle in his ass, Sam's body froze. Sam was hovering over a second, more powerful orgasm. He tried to buck his hips into the goo, tried to fuck himself on both sets of tentacles skewering him from all sides, but he couldn't move. Finally the tentacle in his ass began to grow in one spot, right over his prostate, and he realized he was being knotted.

The knot pushed against his insides, pressing his prostate into the tentacle sounding him from the other side, and Sam whited out. He came harder than he'd ever come in his life.

The Empty seemed satisfied that its experiment worked. Sam's cum was pouring from his stuffed cock, and the Empty absorbed it right into the goo.

"That's it Sam. I can see all of your memories, you know. Remember college? Remember that Alpha boy. The time he knotted you, a poor, innocent Beta. Remember how you loved it?”

Sam was practically sitting on the goo as it milked his orgasm out of him. It was true, the times Sam experimented with an Alpha had been some of the best sex of his life. He’d never told anyone about it. But this was even better. Sam wasn’t sure how long he was suspended in that orgasmic state, but he knew he never wanted it to end. Beta, Omega, he didn’t care what he was, so long as he had that undulating, goo knot in his body.

“Oh, there we are, Sam. That’s it.”

Sam was finally released from his orgasm, and his body trembled in relief. The hunger in his ass was satiated beyond belief. His entire body throbbed with satisfaction.

“It’s in your blood, isn’t it? Your secrets… they’re all here.”

Sam couldn’t think. It took him a long time to realize what the Empty was even talking about.

“Sam Winchester. Your blood is corrupted. Defiled. Oh, that’s lovely.”

It finally clicked. The demon blood. That’s what the Empty was looking for. Finding it didn’t cause the mass to retreat, however. Instead, it seemed to consume Sam even deeper. He was no longer excreting slick, but the knot was still pulsing against his prostate and the cock was still writhing inside of him.

Sam wasn’t sure how long it was before he started to feel another orgasm begin to build up in his core. The Empty was completely engrossed in its discovery and didn’t seem like it was doing it on purpose.

Sam tried to get it's attention, but he couldn’t make a sound. He could only attempt to calm himself, but it was useless. Every erogenous zone was being stimulated, even ones he never knew he had. He tried to curl his toes and pull his arms down, but he only made the goo absorb him further. His nipples had become incredibly sensitive. The goo prodded and stroked them, making pleasure seep down Sam’s body. Sam felt the goo hold his arms steady as it toyed with his nipples, swirling around and rubbing the centers. After several long minutes of this pleasure torture, Sam’s orgasm burst from him like fireworks. He gasped helplessly as he came into the goo for a third time. Still, the Empty paid him no mind.

Sam fell into a kind of trance while his body continued to be probed by the goo. The next orgasm was more like a compulsive jerk. Sam whined suddenly and cum leaked out of his cock. It seeped out around the tentacles and his hole throbbed.

Sam had never experienced anything like this. He was completely helpless, forced to ride the goo into orgasm after orgasm as the Empty completely ignored him.

Finally the Empty spoke to him.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying this, Sam. You see, this can be a kind of torture for some, but I knew you were different. I knew you were special. It’s all here, in your blood. I can taste it.”

Sam was hovering over another orgasm, barely able to listen to the voice in his head.

“Are you ready now, Sam? Or would you like to orgasm again? I can make you do it from in here. From the inside. I can pull it from your atoms.”

Sam was tearing up. He couldn’t respond, but the Empty could feel Sam’s cock leak precum at the question.

“Very good, Sam. Very good…”

Sam suddenly felt his body begin to tingle. It was unlike anything he’d felt so far. The mass around and inside his body wasn’t causing it. It seemed to radiate through his every nerve. Sam stopped breathing for a moment, completely overwhelmed, immobilized. It was like orgasming in slow motion. His whole body tightened. Every tentacle was caressing him slowly, undulating throughout his body. Sam nearly hyperventilated. His orgasm finally reached its crescendo and ecstasy burst from deep within him.

Sam didn’t know how long it lasted. He was lost, drowning in bliss. Nothing else existed but his body. Not a drop of cum left him, but he came harder than he ever had in his life.

When it finally began to recede, Sam felt like he was shrinking. He realized the tentacles were pulling out of him. It was an odd sensation, although Sam only felt it distantly. His body was vibrating through space and time, unaffected by anything. As the tentacles receded from him completely, he felt the ground rise up beneath his back. His body became empty, yet he was still full of the ringing, vibrating bliss. The goo around him swirled and retreated.

Sam could finally see his own body. The goo hadn’t left a mark. He was nude, and his chest was heaving. He felt oddly distant from himself. He dropped his head back on the ground and just lie there, listening to the ringing in his ears

Then he saw someone kneeling down in front of him. The Empty Sam smiled at him darkly. Sam could see the blackness gleaming in its familiar eyes.

“Oh Sam, you did so, so well. You truly are special.”

Sam eyed himself, unable to speak.

“Relax now. You may rest for a moment. As long as you are quiet.”

Sam nodded, seeing no issue with that. He could barely move let alone make noise.

“Good. Good,” The Empty Sam put his hands on Sam’s knees. “Now, because you were so good, I’d like to offer you something.”

Sam watched hazily as his twin neared his face.

“Because I like you, Sam, I’d like to help you. I can purge you. Clean your blood. Remove every last molecule of demonic influence. After all these years, wouldn’t that be nice? Hm? You could be normal. Human. Like your brother.”

Sam’s orgasm-flooded brain realized the Empty was saying something crucial, and his thoughts began slowly coming back to life. Sam’s brows came together, fighting through the bliss clinging to his every muscle.

“I could… purify you, Sam Winchester. No longer the freak. The boy with the demon blood.” The Empty neared Sam still, breathing over him.

Sam realized that the Empty Sam didn’t smell like anything. His breath wasn’t warm on Sam’s lips. It reminded him of how the goo tasted—like endless nothing.

“In exchange, you come back to me once in a while. Give me information. I’ll still let you and your angel go. In fact, I’ll never bother him again.”

Sam stared hard at himself, his eyes tracing every familiar and unfamiliar line mirrored on the Empty’s face. Years ago, Sam would have jumped at this chance just as readily as he had agreed to let the Empty ‘in’. But now he hesitated. He looked over his naked body, observing every scar and faded bullet wound.

“No,” Sam said.

The Empty’s smile twitched.

Sam looked up at him. “No. Not even if I didn’t have to spy for you in return.”

The Empty frowned, but Sam’s resolve was unshakable once again.

“You want to keep the mutation?”

Sam considered it. “Yeah, I do. I don’t know what version of myself I’d be without it. I don’t know that Sam. And I’m good with who I am.” Sam could see the Empty’s patience waning, but he decided to press his luck anyway. “And if you really just learned what ‘makes me special’, then you would’ve already known that.”

The Empty Sam glowered at him. It seemed to consider him deeply for a moment. Then, in the blink of an eye, the Empty dissolved into goo and melded into the void around them.

Sam looked around in surprise. He was alone. The Empty had gone.

Sam noticed a pile of folded clothes a few feet away. He got up, checked his surroundings, then dressed quickly. His small victory was already fading and he was beginning to worry. The Empty didn’t seem happy with him. Was it really going to just let himself and Castiel go?

“Sam?”

Sam spun around at the familiar voice. Castiel was approaching from the darkness. He looked disheveled, but otherwise unharmed.

“What are you doing here, how did—?”

“No time, Cas, we gotta go.” Sam hurried over to him.

As Sam reached out to grab hold of Castiel, a third figure emerged. Sam had been dreading this. The Empty Sam stalked out of the shadows. Castiel withdrew his angel blade.

“No need, Castiel,” The Empty said cooly. “Sam had already ensured your freedom. Until next time, Sam Winchester.” The Empty’s black eyes gave Sam a deep, unnerving stare, then the Empty snapped its fingers and vanished.

 Sam blinked and the darkness surrounding them was gone. He and Castiel were in the bunker. Sound and light returned, temporarily blinding their senses. It was windy outside and the several lamps were lit at the library table, giving the cavernous room a cozy glow.

Castiel looked around wildly, his blade still held aloft. He rounded quickly on Sam.

“What did you do?” Castiel demanded. “What deal did you make?”

A crash sounded from the hallway and Dean ran into the library holding a shotgun.

“Sam? Cas?”

Relief swept over Sam and he couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay! Everything’s okay. The plan worked.”

“What plan?” Castiel demanded. “What did you two do?”

“Nothing!” Sam assured him, “Nothing. Death wanted to help. No deal, no trades, nothing.” He lied.

The three of them exchanged drawn out glances, then Cas and Dean slowly lowered their weapons. Dean strode over and hugged both of them in turn. Castiel was astounded by his own rescue, and even more so when Death arrived moments later.

“Everything work out?” She asked.

At last Sam told everyone what happened, albeit an extremely abridged version. He told them the Empty wanted to know what made Sam special and offered Castiel’s freedom for a look inside Sam’s head. Sam agreed, the Empty got its information, whatever it was, then it released them both.

For a moment Sam was worried Dean wasn’t buying it, but when Sam finished Dean immediately began worrying about the Empty’s interest in Sam. Dean and Castiel began speculating, but Death didn’t say a word. Her gaze was locked on Sam, and Sam had a sinking feeling that she somehow knew every intimate detail of Sam’s ‘deal’. Still, with her work done she departed, leaving the trio in peace.

 It was only later that Sam revealed to Dean, and Dean alone, what the Empty thought made Sam special. Then he told him that the Empty offered to ‘purify’ him. Dean was curious about Sam’s decision to decline, but in the end he agreed it was for the best.

“Who knows what kind of repercussions that could have?” Dean said seriously. “Besides, I like you better as a freak.”

Sam stared at him. “Seriously?”

Dean nodded. “You bet. I wouldn’t exchange you for any other Sam in any other universe, even the universe where everyone gets regular hair cuts.”

Sam grinned.

[the-dark-kings]

Who Are You Gonna Be? Agency & Identity of Penny

Living in the world of The Magicians, a lot of batshit crazy things keep happening to the questers. They often get thrown into or manipulated into a lot of shitty situations where the only good outcome leads to even shittier results. With all that misery in mind, Penny highlights the importance of choice to his students. 

“When I got to Brakebills I thought I’d die before I’d turn 30. That’s all anyone ever told me. Travelers die. And bad shit has happened to me, but not to you. Not yet, anyway. You still get a choice about your path.” 

The continuation of Penny’s storyline in 5x09, and his role as a mentor to Plum, takes them back in time to Brakebills in the 90’s and 20’s. The changes in the 90’s aren’t that notable, aside from wardrobe and Professor Fogg’s demeanor and hair. But the difference in attitude towards Penny and Plum in the 20’s, due to unconcealed casual racism and sexism, actually hinders them from returning to the present. 

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a story with people of color traveling back in time, where the racist attitudes are actually acknowledged—for laughs, making jokes about heavy themes. But it’s also done in a very realistic way, showcasing these daily (and more overt) aggressions against people of color, then to have these characters actually respond to the aggressions in different manners: being exasperated by the bullshit, wanting to go against it, swallowing down the bitter, vile bullshit so you can achieve your goals in a white-dominated world, getting the upper hand (albeit with the help of another white person), and choosing to be the bigger person. All of this, the jokes, and the realistic portrayal of racism and sexism, is on par with how The Magicians tackles serious themes. 

The display of backward thinking is at its funniest, most realistic, and most intersectional, when Hyman ignores Plum’s call-out, and asks Penny whether Plum was given permission to use irony. 

When Penny and Plum accidentally change the past, they have to take matters in their own hands to ensure Brakebill’s resident-pervert Hyman helps future-Penny to save all of magic. In doing so, they face a moral dilemma.

Without informing Penny, Plum steals professor Sato’s stasis charm, which freezes the wearer in time. Now there’s a choice. Do they let Hyman die, or will they risk the future to do the right thing, and save another human being (shitty or not)? Not only is Plum a student and mentee of Penny’s, but she also serves as a foil to him. 

“Bringing you my troubles has cocked things up enough already. I don't wanna make things worse.”

“Well, you are the third Chatwin I've met. First one was The Beast, who basically tortured me when I was a kid, but his sister Jane, she did everything she could to stop him. She changed time. She was incredible. So family curse? Far as I'm concerned, the scales are even. You could tip it either way.”

Choosing to save Hyman isn’t truly about whether pervert-ghost deserves to live or die—even though Penny addresses the changes Hyman will go through after a century of living on the astral plane—but about the kind of people Penny and Plum want to be. This is especially significant after seeing them deal with the casual racism and sexism, and tolerate Hyman’s existence because they need him. 

Penny has become more desensitized after living through his misery. He is willing to let history repeat itself, but it’s Plum’s hopefulness (still unaffected by hardship, though we’re aware of her family’s troubles) and her compelling nature that convince Penny to save Hyman. 

Not only does Plum save Hyman, she also reminds Penny of who he used to be, and unknowingly gives them the missing piece of the puzzle to return to the present.

“I guess having your shit break changes a person.” 

“So what kinda person is the new Penny gonna be?” 

Quentin’s Welter award broke and became a new thing when Penny dropped it, and functions as the totem they need to travel back. It’s a full-circle to the start of the episode, and a wonderful reminder of Quentin’s legacy, even with Penny who was not as close to him as others. A literal thing, but also a metaphor!

Although the episode ends with Penny and Plum being stuck inside a room, there’s the recurrence of the theme of agency and identity. Penny is left with the question of who he is going to be. He answers it by keeping Hyman alive. 

A lot of what’s happened to Penny has been out of his control. After all the loss he’s suffered in timeline 23, after being tricked into a position at Brakebills, after losing his traveling gifts, after the falling out with Julia, he needed the reminder. Even after all that, Penny gets to choose his own path too. 

I look forward to seeing where it’ll lead. 

[glassprism]

Hi, I was wondering what your opinion of ALW's Phantom is in general? I took a step back from listening to cast recordings on repeat and realised my least favourite bit of the show (though very necessary!!) is the Phantom himself (understandably a bit of a 'nice guy') and I think i skip MotN the most. Do you have any more radical opinions of Phantom?

Oh yeah, I definitely have some radical opinions. “‘Music of the Night’ bores me" is right up there, but so is stuff like, “Erik is not my favorite character”, “Susan Kay’s Phantom is a hot mess”, “Phantom is more about growth and redemption than it is about sex”, and my perennial favorite, “Ramin Karimloo, Sierra Boggess, and Hadley Fraser are not the best ever Phantom, Christine, and Raoul.”

Anyway, I think in comparison to, say, the original conception of the character in Leroux’s novel, ALW!Phantom is much more romantic and sympathetic, certainly more handsome and overtly sensual. I don’t necessarily dislike the change; I think it was needed for the show to become a global success. Obsession, forbidden love, and a brooding bad boy with just enough of a tragic backstory to be sympathetic, and who just so happens to be kind of attractive (He must be ugly! But not that ugly), is widely appealing and includes some very common tropes and themes. Going more widely into the rest of the musical, Christine is more of an ingenue, Raoul more of the typical hero, the tone more high romance than suspense and mystery. Again, this is working on tropes that are pretty common in melodramas and romances, and made to contrast the changes in the Phantom’s character, which makes them necessary to a certain extent.

But in many ways it is also an over-simplification of the character as originally written. Leroux’s Phantom is all at once uglier, crazier, deadlier, and sadder, evoking more complicated feelings in the reader. “Brooding bad boy with an ugly face” doesn’t begin to cover Leroux’s Phantom. Leroux’s Phantom is also a fascinating series of contrasts: sexual not because of wavy arm movements but because of his mind and creativity (procreate - get it? Because that requires sex?), yet with the decidedly innocent and non-sexual dream of having a little cottage and taking Christine out for a walk; his music symbolic of life (again, procreate), yet he has the appearance of a skeleton, symbolic of death; a murderer who ends up sobbing at Christine’s feet; and a man steeped in death and horror but who still has the potential for good. Christine is much stronger and less naive than in the musical, while Raoul is correspondingly more youthful and emotional.

It also started the trend of making the Phantom more “heroic” in later adaptations. In ALW’s musical, the Phantom’s past as an assassin is glossed over and his threat at the end is limited to killing Raoul (which makes the conflict much more personal and emotional, but also lowers the stakes). In the 2004 film, even the Phantom’s past in Persia is omitted and the film seems to emphasize that, yeah, he kills people, but some of those people were bad and cruel and perverted so is it really all that terrible? And by Love Never Dies we’ve hit a Phantom who can do all manner of awful things and show almost no remorse, yet the narrative wants the audience to root for him.

But it is what it is, and more than 30 years into the musical’s overall run, it’s too late to really stop and change things. I don’t know if ALW!Phantom is my favorite interpretation of the character, but it is the one I knew best, and for many (including myself) the musical was their first introduction to the guy and the story. At the end of the day, it’s just one version among many, albeit a very influential one, and while I’m not a fan of some of the trends it started, I still find it fun to compare and contrast all these differing perceptions of the character and story!

[dashorchid6-blog]

How Sex Conflicts Can Affect the Mental Illness

The entire subject of sex has too long been covered in riddle and dread sustained by numbness and misconception. Different feelings of trepidation of humankind have been dissipated by comprehension. We have discovered that numerous sicknesses are brought about by microorganisms and infections and not detestable spirits. Therefore we never again feel a nonsensical fear of malady however attempt to control it by detachment, immunization, and chemotherapy. In the event that sexual issues were comparatively comprehended and straightforwardly considered by all, the sexual feelings of trepidation and clashes so common in our human advancement would vanish. Maybe the best snag to all around solid sexual mentalities is the way that albeit numerous guardians understand the estimation of sex instruction they feel insufficient and poorly arranged to offer direction to their youngsters. They are as yet dependent with restraints, humiliation, and an inclination that sex is unclean. Thus the youngster assembles autonomously a mutilated, unfortunate gathering of falsehood and misinterpretations. Legitimately there is no motivation behind why the psycho-sexual advancement of the individual ought to be respected from an alternate perspective from other substantial capacities. At each phase of improvement certain signs show up for which the youngster ought to be readied. He is more hurt by nervousness and dread of things he doesn't comprehend concerning sex than by conceivable untimely guilty pleasure. The rash treatment of sex interest in youthful youngsters may have enduring impacts. A large number of the hindrances that counteract an ordinary, sound reaction in youths toward individuals from the contrary sex have their beginning in such early experiences. A profound situated dread of sex may prompt constraints that make the young lady or kid contract inside a shell of save that they can't clarify Years of maladjustment and despondency may result from a couple of snapshots of botch. The best protect against the improvement of sex strife sick youth is a battle of sound sex instruction for the two guardians and youngsters, the core value for guardians ought to be trustworthiness and a demeanor of easygoing candor. It isn't important to endeavor a full dialog of science in one sitting, for such genuineness and overemphasis is as extraordinary as complete refusal to talk about the theme. In answer to the kid's inquiries concerning different things it isn't standard to plunk down and give him a full address regarding each matter. A straightforward, fair solution to his inquiry is all that is required, and in spite of the fact that the first inquiry might be trailed by others for elaboration, the subject is before long dropped and the energetic personality pursues its common course to different things. The youngster's advantage may seem first in inquiries regarding his very own beginning and if the appropriate responses are provided without passionate presentation or concern the kid acknowledges them matter-of-truthfully. These recommendations may appear glaringly evident to us yet it is astounding what number of the kids who go under perception at the center are absolutely uninformed of the logical basics of sex. Singular Problems Complicated Different kinds of enthusiastic responses, just a couple of which have been examined, are normally usable in creating the side effects displayed by a given person. This is all around shown by the accompanying case report: The patient was a young fellow in school, who went to the specialist with the accompanying protests. For a long time he has attempted futile "to deal with himself" and has turned out to be altogether debilitated and about "pushed beyond his limits." He has had mastoid, sinus, and tonsil contaminations which he supposes have influenced his psyche. Throughout the previous three years he has been strongly despondent and has made no companions, since "individuals disdain him." He says that he is a physical defeatist and is "rationally tormented by negative behavior patterns." Ideas go through his mind with the goal that he can't rest. Now and again he has felt that individuals were perusing his musings and watching him in the city; and once in a while he accepts he is going crazy and has set out to end it all. This young fellow's adolescence was despondent, owing both to awful neighborhood conditions and to the contradiction of his folks. During the majority of their wedded life his folks were kept together more by money related and religious contemplations than by any respect for one another. At last, the dad chose that the main way out of the trouble was to separate the home. Unfit to talk it over sensibly with the patient's mom, and so as to maintain a strategic distance from an excruciating scene, he sent the family to another city, where he had orchestrated a home for them. He additionally given that the mother get a specific aggregate of cash every month for the help of herself and the two young men. Now the dad dropped good and gone, as he went to another state to restore himself in business. The kid's initial social contacts were shocking. He had a few delayed diseases, which influenced him physically to such a degree, that for a period he was unfit to contend with different young men in physical things. Moving into another network made this doubly hard. He was harassed unmercifully by different young men. At last, he went under the mastery of a kid who was living in a similar flat, a kid to some degree more seasoned, rather dumb, yet very much grew physically. The last accepted a kind of defensive frame of mind toward the patient. It was from this kid the patient had his first sex guidance. He was instructed to stroke off and in the meantime informed that it would hurt him physically. He admitted his first experience to his mom, who was sickened and stunned. She disclosed to him this was just an affirmation of her conviction that he took after his dad in his Weaknesses. She disclosed to him that his dad had dependably been exotic and awed the kid with her appall for masturbation and with her conviction that it was an extraordinary sin. He made a goals to stop, broke the goals, made another, and with each endeavor turned out to be increasingly more persuaded that he was unfit to battle this malevolence. He felt that he should overcome it so as to demonstrate to himself and his mom that he was not a powerless character, wicked ordinarily, and so forth. It progressed toward becoming to him a kind of image of his entire battle against the possibility of underhandedness. In the event that he could vanquish this thing, it would imply that he could overcome the shortcoming he had acquired from his dad, he would recover the regard and friendship of his mom and have the option to contend with his more youthful sibling for her respect. His thought regarding masturbation added to his troubles with different young men. He felt that not exclusively was he physically disabled by the diseases which he had and his ensuing ponderousness yet in addition that he was not approach ethically to the next young men in his gathering. He got notification from some of them that one could generally tell a pervert by the pimples all over and the failure to look at a man without flinching. He turned out to be much progressively unsure and built up a dread that his propensity would be found. Subsequently, he abstained from gathering different young men and remained at home a lot, ignoring physical exercise and diversion. About this time there were in the area a few domineering jerks. They rushed to perceive the patient's mentality, and on a couple of events waylaid him in transit from school, provoking him to battle. He was startled and ran. On the main event when he put up a light since he couldn't escape, he was seriously pounded by the two young men. This persuaded him that he was a physical defeatist and added to his effectively developing loathing with himself. In his college courses, this kid had appeared uncanny capacity to select bits of data which would in general affirm certain things which stressed him. He got the hang of something of the organic hypothesis of heredity and was fortified in the conviction that he had acquired his dad's shortcoming of character. He picked up something of logical determinism, deciphering it to imply that man is not the slightest bit a free specialist, and that it is difficult to build up one's determination in the event that one doesn't as of now have it. He knew about the shades of malice of the supposed "feeling of inadequacy" and having discovered a word under which he could total up his issues, he was like never before awed by the size of them Although he made decent evaluations, accomplishment in this was of little incentive to him, truth be told, to go about as a pay for different disappointments. He in this manner lost intrigue and started to disregard his investigations. Over everything he required that acknowledgment, companionship, social contact, which his own sentiments kept him from getting. It was found at the beginning that any basic clarification and counsel would not be' of any incentive to the patient. He had ahead had such clarifications from different able personnel counsels. What was required was an intensive passionate re-teaching. It is clear from the record of the patient's life that his issues were profound situated and included such essential relations as that of the patient toward his family, toward religion, and toward the issue of sex. The patient was bizarrely wise and agreeable all through the method. He was seen in any event three or multiple times each week; and in spite of the fact that there have been times when he demonstrated extraordinary gloom; in general his advancement has been stamped. At present this kid is dealing with the family circumstance well. He is never again bad tempered, unruly, and withdrawn at home. He has had the option to make a few profitable associates on the grounds. He is presently very ready to put forth a concentrated effort reliably to his work, and his evaluations have improved. He has picked a calling and, despite the fact that he isn't yet prepared to enter his expert preparing, he is exceedingly intrigued by it and had completed a lot of outside perusing on related subjects. He has tackled the sex issue palatably and isn't jerking off or doing any surprising measure of fantasizing about sex, things. findomme trusts himself a weakling.