#and about how no action is without its effect

[unholyglitch404]

I didn’t even realize people did that 😭😭

I could’ve sworn the point of writing was to.. y’know.. write? It’s an annoyance, it’s a struggle.. but that’s what makes it so rewarding. You aren’t doing justice to your plot, your ideas, your characters, your audience, or yourself, that way. There isn’t even a genuine point to it! Like.. you can’t really monetize fanfiction, and it’s a form of “hobby/passion-driven” writing. By having an AI do it you’re dampening the effect or emotions of your story, taking away whatever life it had, and literally defeating the point of passionate writing.

But also.. AI is horrible with writing? Like… in order to effectively convey a story, whether it has a theme or not, you need an understanding of nuance, “why’s”, and creativity… which AI doesn’t have.

Nuance is in every aspect of storytelling and existing. Humans don’t feel in binaries or act in binaries: they can experience multiple emotions at once or contradictory emotions; they can cry when happy and laugh when sad; or actively want to continue a sad experience like a tragic movie or dying relationship. Hell, humans sometimes go out of their way to partake in ‘bad’ experiences: watching mockbusters or reading something that they just don’t fucking like. Characters need conflicting interests and opinions to make the story feel natural and cause the plot to happen, and this often results in a need for nuance: a character, and even the antagonist, can oppose the protagonist without having bad intentions. Take a parent doing what they think is best for their child.. but said parent’s idea of what’s “healthy” and “good for their child” is highly skewed and stuck in traditional values, bigotry, misinformation, or fear. The reason I mention this is because AI, fundamentally, functions in binary. It cannot do nuance because it cannot properly comprehend it. How AI achieves ‘nuance’ is by flip-flopping back and forth, with the antagonist acting completely evil one minute, but then crying and comforting the protagonist the next. This isn’t even mentioning grey morality, or complex opinions about heavy topics like murder, abortion, etc.. Very very few people have “binary” opinions (full yes or full no) on these topics.. and if they do, they’re either lying to themselves, in an echo chamber, haven’t thought of potential issues, or are literal children. AI just can’t really replicate that. There’s nuance in behaviors, thoughts, emotions, actions, and existence, itself.

Similarly, let’s look at creativity for a moment. I don’t mean it in an artistic way.. I’m talking basic things like using objects for unintended purposes. Just a few days ago, I needed a ruler or something to draw a straight-ish line. I ended up using a random arcade card I had lying around, because its edge was straight enough. The reason I mention this is that.. AI algorithmically determines things. This means that, if a character needs a ruler and they don’t have one on hand.. literally none of the characters are going to attempt to use anything else, unless you prompt them to. If you need a doorstop, but don’t have one, you’re likely to use a random object for that purpose.. an AI is going to keep looking for a doorstop. This just makes things unnatural and breaks immersion.

Finally, we need reasons. AI doesn’t do things with a purpose or goal, it just provides an algorithmically selected string of letters that it deems satisfactory enough to the prompt. This means that there isn’t meaning, or purpose, or whatever, to the work. No characters have genuine motivations — they just do things to do things. There’s no symbolism, there’s no playing with carefully selected connotations or messing with how the story feels, there’s no further purpose, there’s no character development, there’s no intentions.. it’s just empty.

AI is literally the antithesis of “passion-fueled writing”, such as fanfiction.. and just sucks at writing, to begin with. This isn’t even talking about morals, where the AI’s dataset comes from, etcetera. If you don’t want to sit there writing a story.. then don’t write a fucking fanfic. Why are you making a fanfic? Just read some, for fucks sake!

no way ppl are using ai to write ao3. what happened to being a tortured writer. what happened to blood on the page. what happened to the ao3 curse. people used to get run over, have their houses burned down, break their entire spines and they still put in the work to finish a chapter. fuck you, using ai. y’all are weak

[bunabi]

Whoever sent me that ask saying the devs contributed nothing but 'abysmal dogshit':

As someone who didn't enjoy her time with DAV for the most part I'm just gonna drop all these here and leave you to ask yourself who was responsible for Veilguard being a major departure from past games and where Bioware would be without people who genuinely care:

It helped that the Dragon Age team was full of veterans, and that over the years they’d developed a fair amount of chemistry as a team. “Muscle memory is incredibly influential at this point,” said Cameron Lee. “Through the hellfire which is game development, [we’re] forged into a unit, in that we know what [everyone’s] thinking and we understand everyone’s expectations and we know what needs to get done and just do it.”

From around the time of Trespasser’s release in 2015 to late 2017, the fourth Dragon Age was developed within an atmosphere that was apparently one of the most positive that some at BioWare had experienced.

“(...) some of the big changes included: 1) laying down a clear vision as early as possible, 2) maintaining regular on-boarding documents and procedures so new team members could get up to speed fast; and 3) a decision-making mentality where “we acknowledged that making the second-best choice was far, far better than not deciding and letting ambiguity stick around while people waited for a decision.

While BioWare’s publisher and parent company, Electronic Arts, tends to give its studios a fair amount of autonomy, there are still mandates to follow. By 2017, EA had not been secret about its desire to make all of its major products into “games as a service,” best defined as games that can be played—and monetized—for months and years after their release. Traditional Dragon Age games did not fit into that category.

By the latter half of 2017, Anthem was in real trouble, and there was concern that it might never be finished unless the studio did something drastic. In October of 2017, not long after veteran Mass Effect director Casey Hudson returned to the studio to take over as general manager, EA and BioWare took that drastic action, canceling Joplin and moving the bulk of its staff, including executive producer Mark Darrah, onto Anthem.

“I actually cannot count the amount of ‘stress casualties’ we had on Mass Effect: Andromeda or Anthem."

How did they manage to ship it in 15 months? The dev mentions working about 90 hours a week for 15 months. Many other devs on the team were also doing so and they think that others were doing 90 hours a week prior to the 15 month mark.

[keeper-of-sparkly-things]

swr wof crossover au

Exactly five people have shown interest so i have taken that as permission to talk about this a little

(All of the art is not mine, its commissioned from my sister who does not have a tumblr, heres her youtube instagram and deviantart if you want to look at more of her stuff)

Anyway this idea spawned in discord when me and my friends were talking about how there are too few mythical creature aus of starwars and especially rebels and so i jokingly mentioned that someone could do a wings if fire au. It has since consumed my brain. Have some thoughts

Spectre 1, Kanan Jarrus

This guy is a leafwing. Thought process was “He’s green. Connected to the living force. And it would be cool” He is an animus, like all jedi will be in this au. He is one of very few pantalan dragons that have ever been an animus. His backstory isn’t that much different in canon, he ends up in the scorpion den with Hera. He also happens to have fairly strong leafspeak, though it doesn't see much combative action in the desert. At the time rebels starts he is about 11 dragon years old, at the time the empire rose he was 6 dragon years old.

Spectre 2 Hera Syndulla

Hera is a silkwing/sandwing hybrid. Since silkwings were almost entirely slaves or something similar in arc 3, and since twi’leks are the most slaves in starwars, i decided to make her a silkwing, and also because shes pretty. However, a friend said she had strong queen Thorn vibes and so now shes a hybrid sandwing who happens to work with the rebellion in the scorpion den. She has regular silk and also a tail barb, though it is smaller than other sandwings, but its still just as dangerous. Around the time rebels starts she is a little less than ten dragon years old, when the empire rose she was almost 5.

Spectre 3 Chopper

He is actually a little animus enchanted wooden octopus. Basically a while ago an animus decided animus’s were too powerful and purposefully nerfed the entire system, including things like you can enchant living things including the spellcaster, as such, animated carvings and such became fairly common, as they were technically nit alive but could still move as if they were. Think Blob from darkstalker except chopper has the side effect of being much more violent since he was separated from his creator. Hera found him in some ruins during the clone wars. No one knows how old he is.

Spectre 4 Garazeb Orrelios

This guy is just a normal icewing because theres a sad lack of purple icewings in wof canon. And also icewings and nightwings have had a rivalry since forever (i know that was supposed to be fixed in arc two but i needed a reason for a nightwing king to be willing to wipe of a large chunk of a tribe and palpatine in nothing without his ability to hold grudges over things he wasn’t even alive for that dont matter anymore) in this au he is still a captain of a guard, but it isn’t The royal guard (since theres only ten dragon tribes but hundreds of starwars species so we cant just entirely eliminate one dragon tribe with it being a much bigger problem than just the lasat) It is the biggest city besides the one where the royal family lives, and a lot of lesser nobility and a fair chunk of the icewing army, including where they train the new recruits is there. After it gets destroyed (there were Rumors that the nobility of the city were in league with rebellion, so if course the empire decided to go to the extreme and kill literally everyone who lived there) Zeb then goes into hiding in the Scorpion Den, thinking the desert would be the last place they would look for a reputable icewing, and there he meets kanan and hera. They recruit him by fighting imperials together and saving him from death by dehydration. He would have been 20 when the empire rose and 25 by the start of rebels. (@kanerallels has actually made this fic of him meeting kanan and hera go check it out if you haven’t please)

Spectre 5 Sabine Wren

Shes a rainwing. In Darkstalker and in the guide to a dragon world, they are mentioned to be widely feared assassins. Queen Glory wanted the rainwings to not be useless in a fight so she taught some of them to fight. The group that learned to fight took it too far and became the mandalorians, and sabine having been a bounty hunter at some point in canon, and also liking to express herself through her outward appearance, this is what i landed on. All her armor is enchanted by kanan to blend in with her scales when shes trying to be stealthy. This is what eventually persuaded her to join them. She was 1 when the empire rose and is 6 when rebels starts.

Spectre 6 Ezra Bridger

He is a silkwing hivewing hybrid. In the books these tribes seem to be more purposefully agricultural than the other tribes, being the only ones (i think) that have gardens for food instead of decoration, and they also have greenhouses, and lothal is a farming planet. Pantala is also a good out of the way grassland that doesn’t immediately have the attention of the empire, which is very convenient for him since he’s basically the most illegal person to ever exist. Unregistered child (illegal under the empire) who is also a hybrid (also illegal) descendent of a flamesilk (illegal when unregulated) and an animus (illegal period under the empire) and happens to have both abilities(because hes my favorite and i can do whatever i want), as well as a tail barb meant for paralyzing others, though both his flamesilk and his tail barb are significantly weaker than the average because of hybrid genetics. (His tail can barely paralyze tiny dragonets and prey and doesn’t work on bigger things without enhancement, and unless he purposely uses his hottest silk its not hot enough to actually burn most dragons) his parents did work with the rebellion on pantala, but because an emergency they traveled to pyrrhia and brought ezra with them because he was to dangerous to leave alone but were attacked and imprisoned halfway across the ocean, leaving ezra alone, and being like 2 years old at the time, lost his sense of direction and wandered to pyrrhia instead of pantala (bridges were built at some point connecting the continents by the islands) it should be known that he has no idea hes an animus at this point and thinks hes just really good at disguises and everyone else is just very dumb, when in reality hes like enchanting a poncho to make him look like a non hybrid and other accessories to make him look different by accident. He eventually wanders over to the scorpion den and causes a LOT of chaos which led to the ghost crew finding and adopting him. He was born on the first empire day and was about 4.5 years old when rebels starts. (If you want some angst he grows his wings right after malachor and kanan completely misses it)

[rocaillefox]

ppl reading repent harlequin said the ticktockman bc of the blorbo poll.... my influence hehehe

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[dykedvonte]

you make really good points, I think I used the term karmic wrong sorry. I think of it more as not how I personally think he deserved all that happened to him (which thinking back os exactly what karma means, I messed up sorry), but as his fate being directly tied/parallel to anyas. I handnt noticed the toxicity of jimmy and curlys relationship, from the first playthrough I watched and the first interactions I had w fandom I saw so many ppl just. dismiss the terror Anya went through and focus too much on him as the "ultimate victim" and that just didn't sit well w me. I really dislike seeing ppl go "oh well nothing could've been done" I think it's much more complex than that. also I forgot to mention in the last ask that I really appreciate you bringing the point that this game isn't just about the harm of patriarchy but also very very critical to capitalism, I haven't seen too many ppl touch on this. I hadn't thought too deeply about how it makes "he deserved to become disabled as punishment" come up and I agree that's really messed up. I'll try watching a playthrough again with all of this in mind. but either way thanks! I really appreciate your answer 🫶🏼

I guess this is just part of being in a fandom like this. I've noticed a lot of people don't actually see posts outside of their curated view. So some people only get like anya posting or jimmy or curly and it can make it seem like that is what is saturating the conversation.

I mainly just follow the general tags and look for anything new because I'm like obsessed but I know some are only looking for what they want or believe to be the case and can get weird about other ideas.

Sorry if I came off mean its just a last few of the asks have been like circular conversations like this and its not draining per say but seeing all the nuance and details get overlooked to fit a straightforward and basic narrative really sucks cause there's a lot to explore character and theme wise.

[giantkillerjack]

Favorite part about Death Note is that Light gets the Note and IMMEDIATELY becomes a serial killer fascist with a god complex.

No build-up, no Fall From Grace, no slow corruption of a good boy gradually becoming a monster. Just-- SPEED RUN STRATS. And I love that for him.

Tbh, I think there are a lot of folks (especially boys) from my high school days who would have immediately become monsters if given the power of life and death over every person around them.

It's kind of like how when people have apparently casual ableist beliefs, and you push them to elaborate on that just a little bit, they'll often end up openly saying stuff like "well, some people are just too disabled to be worth the resources it takes to support them." - Which is... eugenics. It's just eugenics, justified by the myth of scarcity. Now these folks almost certainly won't call it eugenics, or even think of it that way. But that doesn't make it NOT a core belief of the Nazis.

In a similar way, Light seems like a nice and well-adjusted boy with strong beliefs. No harm in that.

But to paraphrase Lindsay Ellis in her analysis of the Game of Thrones ending, "Power doesn't necessarily corrupt. Power reveals." [I think she was quoting someone else when she said this. It was someone who wrote a biography on LBJ. Whatever. Lindsay said it and she's smart as hell and I recommend her videos.]

And 15 minutes into the Death Note musical, I'm already thinking about how so many beliefs "casually" held by well-adjusted, nice people immediately reveal their monstrousness when talked through to their natural conclusion.

And I wonder how many of those people, given the power of life and death over everyone around them - the power to take their ideas to their natural conclusions - would also immediately reveal how their lack of self-reflection has laid the groundwork for them to become monsters.

[artistchamp]

Here is more information for this AU which I hope will make sense.

Here are the cannon divergence to the final death order [kiyotaka millionth attempt] and why for this AU:

Chapter 1:

Victim:Makoto

Blackened:Sayaka

[I wanted to have cannon divergence here, as I wanted to illustrate the idea that Kiyotaka Action of becoming the mastermind is slowly effecting the outcome. Despite at this point he is given up hope and trying to enforce the rules or the outcomes set by all the previous attempts as mentioned previously.]

[How I feel like this could occur: I wanted choose either Leon or Sayaka to survive chapter 1. Given how the events of that chapter took place in cannon. its more reasonable to say Leon. As Leon was drawn out in a failed murder attempt. So if he wasn't drawn out. Its safe to say he would have a survived and the next person sayaka COULD have gone for is most likely Makoto.]

[How is he drawn out: I want it again to be as a consequence of Kiyotaka. Subtly. Kiyotaka wouldn't show any reaction to the motive videos of chapter 1. (As he has seen this a million times) Leon plans on conforting Kiyotaka on this and draws him out to have a talk himself. They talk in Leon's room while the murder took place]

(This is the best I could think of for that 😭)

Mukuro lives. But is blocked from access to attending the mastermind room.(cut of any information of whats happening)[Unaware of Junko Death and the New master as kiyotaka is acting like Junko to keep the rules and enforce the idea that there is nothing different]

(WHY DOES SHE LIVE- If you play dangaronpa if. It is stated that she was told to do what she did to monokuma by Junko herself. So without Junko telling her this as [she is dead] and Kiyotaka effectively not knowing that Mukuro was told to do this. As you only learn this in the divergence.She lives and doesn't experience spears of gungir]

Chapter 2-

No victim, No culprit

[REASON-Mondo, Chihiro don't die here. For the simple reason the motive. The motive is about secrets. Kiyotaka lack of knowledge on the stole school memories /so any pre indedictors on what the secrets can be. It is extremely unlike he can carry out this motive unless its pre written. This means both Chihiro and Mondo live. As chihiro was never motivate by the secrets to train and become a man]

[The effect- kiyotaka is in disbelief. He doesn't believe what he wished for. (Mondo survival) had finally occurred. He gets caught up with this in chapter 3. Hence he doesn't go when he is drawn out by celeste/Hifumi. However, in the end he believes. Mondo isnt going to live through it]

Chapter 3-

Victims- Hifumi, Yasuhiro [PROTENTIALLY]

Culpurit- Celestia

(Yasuhiro survival in this au is 50/50 for me. As I am very unsure if celestia couldn't get hifumi to kill kiyotaka. She would get him to kill someone else. If she does. The only reasonable person I can think of is Yasuhiro)

Chapter 4-

Victim-Sakura

Culprit- Sakura

Executed: ????? [Most likely alterego]

[WHY IS IT SAME- as stated previously kiyotaka will try and enforce what has previously occurred to his best ability. Though sakura can longer like mukuro have access to the mastermind lair. She probably expresses to Monokuma [Kiyotaka] that she is the traitor/ kiyotaka has lived through this before in one of his attempts and knows she is the traitor]

Kiyotaka knowledge of his previous attempts about alter ego. Will mostly resort in his execution. Though he wouldn't really have a major role in this narrative.

Chapter 5:

"Victim" -Junko

Executed- Kyoko

Same events of Chapter 5 mostly. But instead of mukuro body being used its junkos. Kyoko is executed in this au as there is no makoto to take her place and like cannon alter ego will not save her.

Chapter 6:

Kiyotaka is eventually caught in the last class trial.... I don't know what's give him away. But mukuro being alived helps.. People learn what happened to Kiyotaka and why he is doing this.. [the only people who believe him are Yasuhiro <potentially being alive>, Mondo and Mukuro] as a self punishment for what he has done... the suffering he has caused.. he executes himself.. to finally set himself free of this cycle. Knowing he succeed in saving Mondo and Chihiro, In one cruel turn of events. (I don't know if someone will try and intervene to save him)

Suviours- Leon,Chihiro, Mondo,Aoi,Mukuro,Byakuya, Toko

Possible suviours- Yasuhiro and Kiyotaka

(I hope I didn't miss anyone lol)

This is just the basic structure of this au. There is more to it. I think it would fun to know the final death order and who's survives this. If there's anything fun you think I should add or change please say and I will. In addition, I can do art of this if asked.

Here is a mastermind kiyotaka ishimaru idea:

Kiyotaka is one of few people in the trigger happy havoc cast who wouldn't start as a mastermind under any circumstance. Unless during these Games, he lost all hope. Here is a interesting concept of why: All based on this

This au would involve around these Time machine actually being real. But just like Makoto or us (the player) no matter how many times he restarts the game to try and save his friends. He can't save his friends..He can't save Mondo. This would result in him slowly losing his mind and himself in the process as seen by the game he can't take losing Mondo once. He would lose his mind if he is forced to live through mondo death hundereds of times no matter what he does.

However, as a result of going back hundereds of times. He learns more and more information about the killing game. He eventually learns about Junko and after the sheer amount of times he was put under the despair of losing his friends over and over due to her. He 💀 her and takes her place as the mastermind. As too him there is no point of trying to change anyone's fate anymore and he will live and enforce the rules that the killing game set for him and everyone else.

[I can do art to explain more of this]

[overly-hubristic-mad-scientist]

ok so given everything went well the the Bride’s Reanimation what exactly did Dan decide to do? Because while he did agree to her creation with the agreement that she would be his replacement Meg, she’s not she has a different brain and based on what we saw a different personality what will Dan’s reaction be if she’s not what he originally wanted? Will he get discontent and look for happiness elsewhere like he did with Herbert? Will he resent her for not being Meg? Even if she was similar enough for him there’s no guarantee that she would love him back, which is extremely understandable since he is essentially her parent. What if the Bride just isn’t into Dan at all and just wants a dad? Will he leave? Will he blame her? Will he blame Herbert? Will he just lose it and try to inflict harm (he’s not emotionally stable especially not when it comes to romance) I’m kinda curious to know what will happen

[snekdood]

ik we talk about "karma" in the sense of "whatever you do will come back to bite you", but in a more realistic sense it just means action. every action has a reaction, etc. which is why its incorrect to blame your god/gods for the way you're mistreated in life bc 1. everyone has free-will and 2. they dont have control over the wheel of karma (at least not in hinduism), so when you're mistreated, you shouldn't ask "what have I done to accrue karma in the form of mistreatment" you should ask "why do these people suck so much", lol. it's not your god/gods punishing you, its other people exercising their free will and choosing to use it in a way that makes them suck as human beings 🤷 dont let people get off the hook by blaming the gods or some sort of nebulous "karma" you cant pin down, blame the people for being pieces of shits, dont let them think they're not actors in this and are just dutifully mistreating you on behalf of the laws of karma, bc they aren't, thats not how karma fucking works.

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

[fozmeadows]

there is no ethical consumption under capitalism

Years ago now, I remember seeing the rape prevention advice so frequently given to young women - things like dressing sensibly, not going out late, never being alone, always watching your drink - reframed as meaning, essentially, "make sure he rapes the other girl." This struck a powerful chord with me, because it cuts right to the heart of the matter: that telling someone how to lower their own chances of victimhood doesn't stop perpetrators from existing. Instead, it treats the existence of perpetrators as a foregone conclusion, such that the only thing anyone can do is try, by their own actions, to be a less appealing or more difficult victim.

And the thing is, ever since the assassination of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson, I've kept on thinking about how, in this day and age, CEOs of big companies often have an equal or greater impact on the day to day lives of regular people than our elected officials, and yet we have almost no legal way to redress any grievances against them - even when their actions, as in the case of Thompson's stewardship of UHC, arguably see them perpetrating manslaughter at scale through tactics like claims denial. That this is a real, recurring thing that happens makes the American healthcare insurance industry a particularly pernicious example, but it's far from being the only one. Because the original premise of the free market - the idea that we effectively "vote" for or against businesses with our dollars, thereby causing them to sink or swim on their individual merits - is utterly broken, and has been for decades, assuming it was ever true at all. In this age of megacorporations and global supply chains, the vast majority of people are dependent on corporations for necessities such as gas, electricity, internet access, water, food, housing and medical care, which means the consumer base is, to all intents and purposes, a captive market. We might not have to buy a specific brand, but we have to buy a brand, and as businesses are constantly competing with one another to bring in profits, not just for the company and its workers, but for C-suites and shareholders - profits that increasingly come at the expense of workers and consumers alike - the greediest, most inhumane corporations set the financial yardstick against which all others are then, of necessity, measured. Which means that, while businesses are not obliged to be greedy and inhumane in order to exist, overwhelmingly, they become greedy and humane in order to compete, because capitalism encourages it, and because there are precious few legal restrictions to stop them from doing so. At the same time, a handful of megacorporations own so many market-dominating brands that, without both significant personal wealth and the time and resources to find viable alternatives, it's all but impossible to avoid them, while the ubiquity of the global supply chain means that, even if you can keep track of which company owns which brand, it's much, much harder to establish which suppliers provide the components that are used in the products bearing their labels. Consider, for instance, how many mainstream American brands are functionally run on sweatshop labour in other parts of the world: places where these big corporations have outsourced their workforce to skirt the already minimal labour and wage protections they'd be obliged to adhere to in the US, all to produce (say) electronics whose elevated sticker price passes a profit on to the company, but without resulting in higher wages for either the sweatshop workers overseas or the American employees selling the products in branded US stores.

When basically every major electronics corporation is engaged in similar business practices, there is no "vote" our money can bring that causes the industry itself to be better regulated - and as wealthy, powerful lobbyists from these industries continue to pay exorbitant sums of money to politicians to keep government regulation at a minimum, even our actual votes can do little to effect any sort of change. But even in those rare instances where new regulations are passed, for multinational corporations, laws passed in one country overwhelmingly don't prevent them from acting abusively overseas, exploiting more desperate populations and cash-poor governments to the same greedy, inhumane ends. And where the ultimate legal penalty for proven transgressions is, more often than not, a fine - which is to say, a fee; which is to say, an amount which, while astronomical by the standards of regular people, still frequently costs the company less than the profits earned through their unethical practices, and which is paid from corporate coffers rather than the bank accounts of the CEOs who made the decisions - big corporations are, in essence, free to act as badly as they can afford to; which is to say, very. Contrary to the promise of the free market, therefore, we as consumers cannot meaningfully "vote" with our dollars in a way that causes "good" businesses to rise to the top, because everything is too interconnected. Our choices under global capitalism are meaningless, because there is no other system we can financially support that stands in opposition to it, and while there are still small businesses and companies who try to operate ethically, both their comparative smallness and their interdependent reliance on the global supply chain means that, even if we feel better about our choices, we're not exerting any meaningful pressure on the system we're trying to change. Which means that, under the free market, trying to be an ethical consumer is functionally equivalent to a young woman dressing modestly, not going out alone and minding her drink at parties in order to avoid being raped. We're not preventing corporate predation or sending a message to corporate predators: we're just making sure they screw other worker, the other consumer, the other guy.

All of which is to say: while I'd prefer not to live in a world where shooting someone dead in the street is considered a valid means of redressing grievances, what the murder of Brian Thompson has shown is that, if you provide no meaningful recourse for justice against abusive, exploitative members of the 1%, then violence done to those people will have the feel of justice, because it fills the void left by the lack of consequences for their actions. It's the same reason why people had little sympathy for the jackass OceanGate CEO who killed himself in his imploding sub, or anyone whose yacht has been attacked by orcas - it's just intensified here, because where the OceanGate CEO was felled by hubris and the yachts were random casualties, whoever killed Thomspon did so deliberately, because of what he did. It was direct action against a man whose policies very arguably constituted manslaughter at scale; a crime which ought to be a crime, but which has, to date, been permitted under the law. And if the law wouldn't stop him, can anyone be surprised that someone might act outside the law in retaliation - or that regular people would cheer for them when they did?

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader

「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」

— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.

— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!

the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.

in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.

red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,

( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),

and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.

"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.

"nnno. m'not going with you."

"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"

"i already told you... i have a husband..."

your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."

archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?

"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.

definitely not your husband.

idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.

then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.

"night, this husband of yours loves you."

strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?

that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.

and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.

you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"

childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."

you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."

the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.

there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.

childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."

"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"

"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.

panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"

"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."

he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.

"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.

as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.

"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."

ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.

it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.

like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.

it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?

"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.

ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.

"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.

"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"

your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"

"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."

"i don wanna."

"..."

"just... one drop?"

"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."

"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"

ah. "...what's his name?"

"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."

"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.

"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."

just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.

"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."

(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds

tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima

[weirdmageddon]

i was thinking about this since i posted earlier about us needing to address the trend of gen z men being pulled into alt-right pipelines might have contributed to the outcome of this election.

i think contrapoints is really smart, and from what i’ve seen, has been way more effective at getting people out of harmful ideological pipelines than i’ve seen from the majority of leftists online who instead berate and drive a greater wedge of antipathy (though i understand why! and it can be very hard to have empathy for the people who see you as a threat). that antipathy makes the right more radicalized because they don’t feel like they can talk about anything without the “crazy lefties” who won’t even engage with them. where did these issues come from?

what i’ve noticed, and i’m even guilty of this, is that people don’t interact with groups of people whom they refuse talk to, which makes realities more hypothetical in the minds of their opponent since they aren’t open to seeing reality from their perspective. this is true on both sides. from what i’ve observed, it seems to originate from hypothetical perception of the opponent, but when people treat those perceptions as though they are real, it becomes real with their actions, which then makes the antipathy justified to someone. again, on both sides.

what makes contrapoints so successful at breaking this down is that is that she creates these socratic dialogue skits that represent real people and ideologies, has a sense of humor, isn’t afraid to discuss these things, reframes how we see these things by introducing nuance to both sides. she’s a leftist, but she also knows how to engage without ripening division, of meeting someone halfway and being completely humble about it. she is able to soften extremes.

she is able to get into the mind of people who aren’t aligned with her views, understand the nuance and rationales from a realistic perspective, breaking down a big block of “this is all bad” into “ok, some of this makes sense…”, what this does is create a space for self-reflection that doesn’t feel ham-fisted (which could otherwise cause people to double down on their beliefs instead of opening up to other perspectives outside of their bubble). while also being entertaining and well-produced on top of it.

what she is doing is creating these scenarios and socratic discussions that SHOULD be happening in real life but aren’t in this polarized social climate.

i graduated from new college of florida this spring, the small liberal arts college that was in headlines across the country for ron desantis’s board of trustees hostile takeover and exodus of professors.

new students and student athletes from conservative walks of life were being basically incentivized to go there who were taught to fear the lgbt boogeyman growing up in their conservative communities. but once they actually interacted with lgbt students there, many of them they felt like they understood them, and they weren’t as bad as they were told they would be. new college of florida was also famous for getting derek black (child of the man who created stormfront, and godchild of the kkk grand wizard david duke) out of white nationalism. their peers at NCF called them out but also interacted with them, invited them to dinner. black wrote a book about it.

now of course some people are too far gone and you shouldn’t waste your time with them, like derek’s family for example. but i also think a lot of people who voted for trump are not informed, are operating off of emotion and knee-jerk mentality because it’s easier than thinking, and they are not seeing the discussions that need to be had to change their mind because fuckin…nobody is doing them.

and we feel this visceral disgust to people of the opposing party because of its associations. i just want to know how it happened and how we got to be like this. i think social media is partly to blame and also the algorithms that take people down dangerous pipelines and sharpen them, insulate them.

i myself understand the vitriol you might have for anyone that voted for trump. i feel so disappointed that half the people of this country voted against our collective benefit. and i’ve seen a lot of sentiment from the left today saying “every single person who voted for trump is dead to me. i disowned you”.

you can see the reality of trump’s demagoguery, and it’s so obvious, but what i want to know is: what do they see? why did they vote for him? emotion and entertainment travel faster and have more reach than reason. and it’s that’s why i think contrapoints’s videos are exemplary at tackling this ideological divide. this is something i’ve been thinking about for months before today and i thought now was a better time than ever to give my two cents on it.

[visionsofmagic]

❝screaming another man’s name while being fucked by him❞

including: zoro, luffy, sanji, shanks [opla versions]

―❛ nsfw, brat!reader, f!reader, possessive behaviour, chocking (kinda), licking, different positions, daddy kink, swearing, pet names, spanking, angry sex, humiliation, begging, fingering, oral > f receiving, marking, claiming, mentions of voyeurism, hair, ‘is all  I suppose. ✸ wc: 2.3k ✸ posted only zoro’s version but didn’t appear on tags, so, I repost that part with others’ parts too. tried to stay in characters. enjoy!

⭑ ZORO

“oohhh - sanji!”

you moaned, not aware of your own moans until he asked, voice deep, sending radiations of danger.

“what did you just say?”

hands on your waist freezing, the pressure still on there yet it doesn’t continue pulling and pushing your body, stopping fucking you - the sudden silence in the room fills up with heavy breathing.

he holds you by the neck, raising your body up, he makes your back touch his bare chest, back arching - his cock twists inside your walls.

“I asked,” he says, warm breaths hitting your ear as his voice reaches every part of your body as if it's a poison - and he is the only cure for it. “what did you fucking say.”

it wasn’t intentional - you didn’t mean to moan another man’s name in the middle of fucking, but, it came as an instinct.

“z-zoro - I - didn’t mean to - aggh -!”

“didn’t mean to what? moaning another man’s name?” he chuckled, far away from entertaining, just pure annoyance. “moaning sanji’s name while my dick inside you, breakin’ you into half, hm?”

you can’t answer, you can’t even comprehend what to do because you don’t understand why you moaned sanji’s name. however, zoro knows you more than you do, and owns every knowledge about the hidden meanings behind your actions, words, and looks - he isn’t dumb, he knows how you close your thigh around sanji whenever he cooks, watching him from the corner of your eyes as you bite your lips without even noticing it.

it is not that zoro doesn’t get jealous, he does and he will prove it right away yet he wants to satisfy you in every way he can - he can see the truth behind the whole thing; you want the full attention that you try to make him angry with all these acts, and you have no idea that you’re doing all that only for him - for zoro so that he can get possessed around you.

he’s a pleaser though, for you, and he will plan your little game, giving what you want.

“maybe I should call him,” he says, and whimpers when your pussy clenches around his length on its own - pure instinct, pure satisfaction. he smirks, pride runs in his veins, he really knows you - each hit point, each desire, everything. he leaves your body, bending it over again, ass getting higher.

he begins to fuck you so slow that you swear you will lose your mind anytime soon as his cock goes out of your horny clit until his tip touches your folds, only to shove it in again with a hard yet effective thrust.

weren’t his hands holding you by the hips, you would hit the wall in front of your face - moaning louder than before, afraid that the crew will hear you as you get fucked by furious zoro.

“ohh, I definitely should call him. wanna make him watch your pretty face as I fuck your hungry pussy for my cock,” he says, thrusting faster each passing time, making your hands grip the sleeves under you. “would you like that?” he asks, balls hitting every right spot of your ass cheeks, thrust begins to mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“ohhh - zoro - zoro -!”

“that’s right baby. roronoa zoro,” he kneels down, abdomen touching your back, dick reaches the end of your pussy, a hand grips your hair, pulling it harshly, “scream my fucking name louder, wanna hear it, wanna everyone hear it as well.”

“‘m sorry, zoro, ‘m so sorry -“

“oh please,” he mocks you, leaving your hair, only to hold you by the neck this time, pushing you onto the mattress lower, cries rush onto your face. soaking, you moan his name over and over again. “you’re not sorry at all. you’re just a slut, aren’t you?” his fingers play with your ass hole, sending a new sense of satisfaction into your body, “a slut only for my cock though,” he whispers into himself, slapping your ass, earning a scream out of your pretty parted lips.

then, he turns you around, and the cock swifts inside you - standing above you, he puts one of his hands beside your head, and the other one grips your neck completely, making you look up to his face - he finds the pace that he knows that will make you see starts.

eyes sparkling with lust as you look at him, half-closed, blurry already, dry tears on the cheeks, chest raising up and down rapidly while his cock fucks your abused clit harder, and deeper. “yes my slut,” he says, possessiveness can be heard through his voice, “look at who’s fucking you right now. not luffy, not that shitty waiter sanji either. just roronoa zoro. who’s fucking you? whose pussy is this? say it.”

“roro - ohhhh, shit - roronoa z-zoro!”

he nods with such pride that he smirks, still furious, but enjoying this so much that he decides to fuck you in every position he can until the whole crew knows you’re getting fucked by him in his damn room, crying only his name. “that’s it my pretty slut, you will never forget it. from now on, I will dig it into your dizzy head so that your legs will open on their own whenever you see me.”

“please, yes, yes, zoro!” going all mindless, you let him do what he wants - after all, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?

“pretty slut. gotta make you know who you belong to.”

⭑ LUFFY

“fuuuck - usopp!” the words - the moan comes out of you without your control, making his head higher up.

“huh? say somethin’ baby?” he asks, not stopping eating you from the back, fingers joined, brows raised, curiously looking at you.

“‘m so sorry, luffy - I - I wasn’t thinking straight- I - ohhh!” you try to say but your words are cut by his fingers scissoring inside you.

“oh,” he says, sounding not surprised but excited, chuckling even as he adds, “I didn’t hear it wrong then. you really moaned his name - while my tongue is deep inside you, fingering this beautiful pussy that I thought clenching because of how good I am fucking you.”

between your loud whimpers mixing with moans, you begin to say how sorry you are. you weren’t aware of it until the moment usopp’s name left your mouth. you knew it was luffy who was making you week on the knees, who’s have your legs wrapped around his bare shoulders, your pussy wide open, hands on his curly hair as you pull them whenever his tongue and fingers reach your g-spot - only he can fuck you like this, you know it! but why you moaned usopp’s name, why you pictured him in your mind beside luffy are the questions you have no answers to.

“I don’t know what happened to me - ohhh - luffy, ‘m so sorry - fuuck!”

both moaning with pleasure and crying with pure guilt, you try to hide your face from luffy, a hand positioned on your half of the face, not looking at him, afraid that you made him upset and disappointed yet luffy is there to prove you wrong when he leaves your pussy, gets up, holding you by the chin as he lowers down, making both of you hit the bed underneath you.

hovering over you, he makes you see his smiling face, lips shining because of your soaking, eyes sparkling.

“oh, pretty baby, look at me,” he says, caressing your chin, “I am not mad. not at all. if you want to bring another man into the bed -“

“no, no - I don’t - I really don’t!” you protest, so shy at the thought. you only want luffy, you know that, and you want to apologize to him for being such a greedy girl, “you’re my one and only luffy. I only want you.”

he chuckles softly, shaking his head, fingers finally finding your aching pussy again, playing with it as he says, “‘s okay. if I am the only one you want, then, let me fuck you that your whole body remember I am the one and only for it.”

he keeps his promises, fucking you until the only thing you have on your mind is him - nothing more, nothing less.

yet he doesn’t leave you without teasing you, giving you wet kisses, markings, and even slaps from here to there - enjoying seeing you all shy yet greedy for him.

⭑ SANJI

“oh yes, yes, yes, right there - so good so good - please more, zoro, please!”

“hm? what?” he asks in a surprised tone, hands stopping playing with your breasts, tongue staying on the hardened nipple without moving, eyes looking up to your confused face from where he stays on - your exposed chest.

he smirks, a bit of jealousy and entertainment at the same time, realizing you have no clue about what you said a second ago, legs push him closer - wanting his cock deep inside your warm walls to start moving again because you can’t understand why he has stopped fucking you.

“oh my beautiful madam,” he teases, “can’t even realize he moaned another man’s name while having my cock warm inside her pussy!”

your eyes widen after you comprehend the words he’s saying.

you swear lowly, hands touch his well-built chest, heat rushing all over your face, and you begin to feel guilt blooming inside your abdomen which has twisted.

“sanji - I am so sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t -“ he cuts you off, right hand finds your neck as long fingers caress your face.

his face so close to yours as he chuckles, “oh, did my pretty lady remember who’s fucking her? not zoro, eh?”

he can’t decide whether he should feel humiliated or amused. yet he doesn’t go hard on you, moving his hips, he earns low moans from you - hands trembling on his chest, the dilemma rises up inside the mind, thoughts about zoro shuts down by sanji, he shoves his dick into you slowly and in one go as if he’s trying to remind you that you’re under him - not zoro’s or any other man’s.

“please, sanji - faster, please!” your please now is filled with his name comes as prays into his ears, the pride increases, giving sanji a chance to play with your cute little mind.

“that’s right baby, sanji - say that again.” his movements become faster, harder.

“sanji, sanji, sanji - aggh, so good -“ with the help of the last decent you have, you moan his name louder and louder, wanna make him prove that you’re mind full of him, giving him the apology he deserves in a way he would like to get; being so noisy that everyone will acknowledge what you’re doing behind the doors.

“would make a mess out of you. you will leave this room barely walking because of me,” his possession is perceivable, burning you alive with the desire for more. hands grip your inner thighs, opening them wider, a painful breath leaves your lungs as you shut your eyes, giving sanji what he wants; devouring you to tame you.

“pretty lady needs a lesson, and I am here to give it.”

⭑ SHANKS

he doesn’t say much, chuckling or laughing would suit him better but he knows you should have known that no one can fuck you like he does when another’s man comes from you - moaning with it instead of saying shank’s name.

holding you from the waist, he takes control of you, not letting you ride him no more, sweats flow from your body into his.

the moment you hear his voice, memories of the past seconds rush to your mind, and you find yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, afraid that he will push you.

contrary to what you expect, shanks moves your hips slowly, forth, and back - his balls feel heavy under you, hair on his lower abdomen makes the pleasure double.

you hold your tears; blurry vision, soaking clit, reddened face, agape mouth - pathetic yet beautiful, he thinks. “daddy’s cock isn’t enough for you, hm, is this the case why you moan another man’s name like that even when you’re,” he takes your chin, making you look down, seeing the mess you’re creating, “cumming onto my cock?”

“it’s not it, shanks!” earn a spank on your ass.

“then what is it princess?” he asks, brows raised, fingers traveling on your body, “am I not fucking you good that you fantasize about another man while bouncing on my lap?”

he lets you say countless sorry words, cries inside his arms, explaining how you didn’t mean to do that, how he’s the only one for you yet he doesn’t seem satisfied, taking a deep breath, raising your body then lowering it down - cock thrusting deep and hard.

throwing your head, you begin to beg for him to forgive you, to fuck you.

“in that case,” he says, putting himself a glass of wine from the small table beside you while still sitting on his favorite chair that he fucks you onto. leaning back, he moves his hand in the air, “fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you can beg for my cock, then, I will forgive you and fuck your greedy pussy princess,”

he watches you going blank for a moment before beginning to bounce on him, moaning from the throat, hands traveling around your body to make a show only for his eyes.

he whimpers lowly, a smirk lightening his attractive face, eyes burning in fire, “give daddy a show. and when you’re done, I will call for him and make him watch as I fuck you good.”

❤💙

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ❦

[sexlapis]

ᝰ.ᐟ i know how much it matters to you.

── .✦ nanami kento x reader

sfw, drabbles, gender neutral!reader, daddy-esque nanami, soft nanami, petnames

⤷ it’s the little things nanami does for you that makes your heart melt…

a/n: if you have a dad just scroll (joke).

masterlist

*

BUTTONS

“Thank you for having us, Mrs Nanami.”

You and Nanami make your way to the door, preparing to leave.

Nanami’s mother had invited you both to a Sunday roast, diligently cooking everything for all three of you. You thanked her highly for her efforts, so much so that she had to force you to sit down and eat.

“Oh! It’s no bother, dear!” She smiles at you warmly, walking you and Nanami to the door. “I love to have my favourite people over.”

Nanami takes your coat of its rack, holding it open for you. “Here.”

“Oh!” You put your arms through the sleeves, feeling your face heat up. Nanami adjusts the coat over your shoulders. “Thanks.”

He then proceeds to crouch down a little and button up your coat, bottom to top. When finished, he smooths out the collar of your coat, tidying up the unruly folds and creases.

Your heart jumps, almost embarrassed by his nurturing actions. “Kento…”

“Hm?”

Mrs Nanami coos. “I knew I raised a gentleman.”

-

HAIR

“How does that feel?”

“Hmmm…it feels good…”

You sit in the bath, legs splayed out as Nanami sits on a stool beside the bathtub, massaging the foamy shampoo into your scalp and effectively cleaning your hair.

He chuckles at the blissed out expression on your face.

“What’re you laughing at?” You ask drowsily, eyes half-lidded from his soothing movements.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Nanami’s eyes twinkle as he smiles down at you, irises of umber and gold illuminated by the setting sun curling in from the bathroom window.

“Alright, tilt your head back for me.”

You do so, and he picks up a plastic tub of a now empty food container, scoops up some water from the bath and pours it over your head, washing away all off the foam. He runs his hand over your head, making sure no shampoo gets onto your face or in your eyes.

“There.” He says, admiring your now shining, sweet-scented hair. Your face is now splattered with droplets and your nose is red. Nanami kisses your cheek. “Good as new.”

-

ROADS

On a very rare weekday off, Nanami decides to take you to the Christmas market. Because it is a weekday, specifically Monday, it is quieter and far less busy than usual, near completely desolate. It makes going from stall to stall, sipping on freshly made, rich hot chocolate, admiring carefully handcrafted wooden sculptures, and observing pigmented paints all the more enjoyable.

“Ooo, Nanami!” You exclaim and point across the street. “That’s the new café I was telling you about! Remember, the one with the pastries and stuff?”

“Oh, right, I remember.” Nanami walks to the edge of the sidewalk, you following along and preparing to cross the street. “Let’s go and take a look.”

Nanami sticks his hand out for you to take while looking both ways on the street.

You stare at it, a little dumbfounded to be honest. You are an adult…you think you can manage crossing the street without any guidance.

He then turns his head your way, raising his eyebrows and glancing down at his outstretched, still empty hand.

“Let’s go, then.”

Sighing, smiling half-heartedly, you take his hand and he walks you across the street safely, both of you still holding hands as you make it to the café.

-

TELEPORTATION

Nanami exhales loudly as he sends he last email of the day, falling into the back of his seat and stretching. He’d been working from home all day, it was now dark outside.

What were you up to?

He leaves his office and walks around the office in search of you. First, the kitchen, and then the living room.

The living room is where he finds you, laying on your stomach with a blanket thrown over you, fast asleep.

Have you been here all day?

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Nanami steps over to you quietly, careful not to wake you up. He removes the blanket from you, pausing when you stir and then curls his arms beneath your knees and behind your back to lift you up.

He carries you upstairs and up to your shared bedroom. He lays you on the bed and puts the thick sheets over your body. You hum, and wiggle around in your sleep to get more comfortable.

His chest warms at your cuteness. Nanami kisses your forehead before getting ready for sleep himself.

*

When you wake up, you’re confused about how you ended up in bed and come to the conclusion that you obviously possess the powers of teleportation.

-

DINNERS

It was that time of year, you and Nanami’s annual Christmas dinner where you invited all of your close friends (just your friends, some things that happen during these type of gatherings should stay between friends only, not family).

After hours of laborious cooking and baking, the dining-room table is filled with succulent, freshly cooked foods, ready and yearning to be devoured.

You thank your friends to attending before you all dig in graciously.

While you’re eating, a considerable sized smear of sauce accumulates at the corner of your mouth unknowingly - until Nanami pauses his eating and points it out.

“You have something…” Nanami tells you, pointing to the corner of his own mouth as reference.

“Hm?” Your mouth is full and you missed what he said.

“You have-here.” Nanami licks his thumb and wipes the sauce away from your mouth, before picking up a napkin and rubbing away the rest of the excess. He squeezes the fat of your food-filled cheeks, cooing at how adorable you look.

“Oh. Thanks!”

You smile at each other. Then you notice it’s very quiet and look at the rest of the table.

All of your friends are staring at you and Nanami in what appears to be confusion.

Shoko speaks. “I…I don’t even have anything to say…”

*

a/n: this was just a little something not a fic ok…nothing serious. just wanted to share my yearning for nanami with everyone else <333