#and partly incoherent

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

It's never going to happen bc I don't have the skill or the determination or the simple understanding to actually do it but lately I've been thinking about potential video essays on...I'm not even sure. Autistic joy? Trans joy? The sheer unique joy of being me and of being a human who thinks and feels and how that's different but the same as so many other people. Like I'll legit start plotting out scripts in my head for how I would explain it to people (which I do alot for special interests and such but rarely to explain Myself) and a big part of me would love to just. Talk. About how it feels to be Me. But I'm also very unlikely to do that lol

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

STOPP Merlin's worried and slightly panicked "No" when he hurries to say that he doesn’t know any spells after Gaius asks him 😭😭 (first episode, at around 13 minutes in).

(also like 30 second later when he looks SO PLEASED and grateful when Gaius offers him a sandwhich!!! AHHHHHHH).

edit: sorry I'm not done wanting to say something about this. I just think the smile is so sweet. he doesn't take acts of kindness for granted! morgana said he's a lover (and she was right) but he's also a cherisher :,)

[phanagoria]

whenever i get too in my head about my various hypochondriac fixations or general doomerism I tell myself these are the product of demonic attacks and while that is a scary thought in itself I feel it grounds me and gives me some mental fortitude. like fuck you, i know I'm not really dying, stop trying to convince me i am. i see right through you

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[aromantyczno-liryczna]

Wrapped is out, which song did you listen to the most?

It's sooooo good, it had me hooked for like a week

[commander-damneron]

Okay, this threw up so many red flag that I'm having to make an actual reblog since I don't want to write an entire fucking essay over about 20 replies.

First off, I grew up in that same community. Or at least, I'm assuming it's the same one, since no one, to my knowledge, has ever called it "the Irish Catholic community of Scotland". Most people just consider it the Scottish Catholic community. Which usually acknowledges that there's a lot of Irish influence and the vast majority of Scottish Catholics are of Irish immigrant descent, and when I say "descent" I mean within the past few generations. For context, when I was growing up, I was considered to be reeeaaally Scottish by the other Catholic kids because my last fully Irish ancestors were about 4 generations back. There's a lot of Irish grandparents and great-grandparents among Scottish Catholics my age. So I suppose the way she describes it isn't wrong, it's just deeply fuckin weird. I guess we can't blame her for twisting her words around like that though, I get that she doesn't want to lump herself in with us filthy Scots.

Which does bring me to the other thing this flagged up in my brain. Because describing Scottish Catholics like that conveniently cuts out the parts of the community that aren't Irish or of Irish descent. I know I just said a lot of Scottish Catholics I grew up with are, but that's because at the time I started primary school, the majority were. My mum went to high school with a lot of other parents of kids in my P1 Catholic primary school class. While I never went to that high school, by the time I stopped going to church at around 13, that ubiquitous Scots/Irish landscape had changed, because Scotland had a large influx of Polish Catholics immigrants.

To be clear, I am in no way saying that's a bad thing. I sat through my fair share of my grandparents complaining about all these Polish coming in to church and now they're even having a separate Polish mass some weeks and all the usual xenophobia, and going from confused (I was 8 and thought they were very nice) to angry (I was 13 and my grandparents were full of shit). The Polish priest who was the first to start holding mass in Polish in our church, and who I was an altar server for for about 4 years, was the loveliest wee man you could ever meet.

What I am saying is that it it's suspicious to me use a term to describe Catholics in Scotland that so clearly excludes that large part of the community, especially as someone on the east coast, which I'm assuming Laura is, given that she's apparently shortlisted for Livingston. To be clear, this matters because of Scottish Catholicism's Irish roots and also because Scottish Catholicism is a bit weird. They majority of Irish immigrants settled on the west coast, since that's where they arrived, and is why Catholics on the west coast and especially in Glasgow are so... let's say loud and leave it at that. That's where my grandparents are from and where my mum spent her early years. Over time, some of them moved east with their families, as did my grandparents, and they've been here ever since, up to and including me being born here. The most common pattern among kids in my P1 class was "Irish great-grandparents/grandparents moved to Glasgow, Glaswegian grandparents/parents moved here". Similarly, as far as I personally witnessed, Polish immigrants did something similar, in that they often settled near to where they arrived. The ferry arrived in Rosyth, back when we still had passenger ferries between Scotland and mainland Europe. A lot of flights landed in Edinburgh. By the time I left the church, there was a huge Polish community on the east coast of Scotland, which was also notably larger than its west coast counterpart.

All this is to say that I fully do not believe that Laura McConnell can be a Catholic living on the east coast of Scotland and only be familiar with Scots/Irish Catholics. She just can't. I grew up a half hours drive from the constituency she's running for, and, again, we had such a large and thriving Polish community that we ran mass in Polish. So I can't help but find it suspicious that she notably excludes them here, especially because it'd be very easy to use them to throw other Scots under the bus. I've already spoken about the xenophobia against them in my own family, and they weren't the only ones with those opinions in our church, I imagine the rest of the country was at peast similar. I'm not saying outright that this was an active choice in how she phrased an already ridiculous tweet, but I am saying that if one of her political stances is somewhere in the realm of "hard on (EU) immigration", I wouldn't exactly be surprised

Labour candidate Laura McConnell is unionist because apparently the UK has long been a defender of Irish Catholics???

And she doesn’t trust those nasty Scots from Scotland (where she is a candidate).

[lemonturquoise]

Midnight Antics

Sylus x Reader

Luke and Kieran swallowed hard, their nerves frayed as they faced their boss’s anger. The stern look in Sylus’s eyes was a clear sign of his disappointment, and the tension in the air was almost palpable. Although they were partly responsible for letting you go out with your friends, their main concern was the lateness of the hour. It was already midnight, and you still hadn't returned. Their anxiety had mounted with each unanswered call, making the waiting seem endless. When Sylus came down the stairs, his stern expression only heightened their dread.

Suddenly, the main door burst open with a loud crash. “Sylus!” You stumbled into the house, your movements unsteady as you clung to him. Your disheveled appearance and slurred speech made it evident you were quite drunk. Luke and Kieran let out a collective sigh of relief, their tension easing as they saw you finally home safe. "I miss you” you mumbled, your voice thick with intoxication. Sylus, trying to maintain his composure, gently but firmly grabbed your chin to make you look at him. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. Your gaze was unfocused as you struggled to respond. “I… hmm… went out with my friends” you replied with a giggly hiccup. Sylus’s irritation deepened. “And you didn’t even bother to let me know?” His tone was sharp, and his grip tightened slightly. “Ouch!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand away with a wince. “I told Luke and Kieran about it and thought you weren’t coming home tonight” you added, your laughter fading into another hiccup. Sylus lifted you into his arms and carried you to your room.

He threw you on the bed, and you swayed slightly, trying to steady yourself. “I need to change” you said, your voice slightly slurred. As you struggled to change out of your party clothes and into something more comfortable, Sylus watched with a mix of exasperation and concern. Your attempts were clumsy and slow, revealing just how drunk you were. After you managed to change, you stood on the bed, trying to balance as you almost reached Sylus's height. The sight of you struggling to stay upright while trying to look him in the eye softened his irritation. You started pinching both of his cheeks with a playful grin. “Come on, don’t be mad.” you laughed, though your laughter was somewhat incoherent. “You’ve surely had a lot to drink, huh?” Sylus tried to hold your hands to stop you from pinching his cheeks. “Sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow.” he said in a cold tone.

As he walked to the door to leave, he heard the soft sound of crying. He turned around and saw you lying on the bed, tears streaming down your face. Your sobs were muffled, and Sylus felt a pang of guilt. He sighed deeply and approached you. “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice softer now. “You’re mad and you don’t love me anymore.” your voice breaking with emotion. Sylus looked puzzled, but then his lips curved into a faint smile. He sat down beside you, his earlier frustration wearing away. “I’m not mad. Just don’t do it again.” he said, gently patting your back. “Really?” you asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Yeah, now go to sleep.” he reassured you. You suddenly threw yourself at him in a tight hug, nearly making him lose his balance. As you clung to him, Sylus found your state and the way you misinterpreted his feelings both warm and cute.

He was about to say something but was cut off by your playful pinching of his cheeks once more. Sylus managed to disentangle himself from your embrace with a tired smile. Despite the late hour and his earlier frustration, he found your antics charming. “Alright, enough.” he said with a small affectionate smile. “I’m going to my office for a bit. We’ll talk things through in the morning. Go to sleep now, kitten. I love you, okay?” as he kissed your forehead.

He settled you back into the bed, your crying subsiding as you relaxed into the blankets. “Goodnight, Sylus. I love you too.” you murmured, your voice now soft and content. Sylus left the room and headed back to his office, feeling a mix of relief and lingering fondness.

[anticanonsposts]

y/n's feral week

hi this is just a little sm about y/n being horny as hell and König eating it up

nsfw under the cut so MDNI!!!!

König keeps track of your cycle on a calendar... 

Partly to be a good boyfriend but also for his own benefit. 

Your cycle is a very interesting thing. Because obviously there are parts of it that make you feel gross, bloated, bleeding, etc. But what people often forget is that a menstrual cycle is 28 days and for some people there are ups and downs throughout. 

For you specifically, you had about one and a half to two weeks when you go absolutely feral. 

During this time, you jump him at any opportunity, you send sexy pictures throughout the day, you’re on him the moment you are home from work. (Obviously with consent of course) his dick does not know a moment of peace. 

He fears for the safety of his balls during this time, with you constantly emptying them. Bro gets so sore when this happens, and always knows once it starts you will drag every. Single. Drop. of cum out of him. (he fucking loves it tho, whenever you go nuts and just use his body for hours on end). 

Usually you can go for several rounds, but during this time you are unbelievable. As soon as König thinks you are on your last round, you whip out 3 more on the poor man. And it's not even like you are completely in control. He is not the only one blubbering and whimpering incoherently. When you guys are several rounds in, it's basically just you endlessly riding his dick until he’s under you seeing stars and you can barely keep yourself upright. Whining his name over and over again while he stares up at you half lidded in complete awe. 

Watching you bounce up and down on his completely spent dick, your tits in his face, your face flushed, working your tired body against him is quite literally a glimpse into heaven for him. 

At the end of this time period, his balls feel an overwhelming sense of relief. And he is just amazed at how 180 your libido can be. One day you are jumping at him at every opportunity, multiple times a day. And the next you are bundled up in your bed, bloated and upset, wanting him as a giant, human heating pad rather than a sex toy. 

This is just one of the many reasons he loves you. 

p.s. : pls pls pls request things!!!!!

[star1ight0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Warm Hands". Period comfort!

I died today exams are coming up and my body decided that I must suffer, endometriosis is no joke. PERIOD COMFORT.

Katsuki was never one for comfort, partly because he never really got it himself so giving it was like standing in cold water. The first time you and Katsuki were together during your period you kept to yourself not wanting to bother him with your mood swings.

He quickly caught on blowing it off as you having an off week. The second time around he was a little more observant noticing how you got more upset over simple work and how you seemed to always have a stomach ache in class.

One Ill fated day you ran out of pads quickly running to Momo giving her a knowing look, she handed you her bag as you ran off. That was only the start of your shitty day. The pills you took to kill your cramps had worn off so now you're suffering in class. Things took a turn for the worse after lunch when whatever the cafeteria food seemed to kill your stomach.

Back in class holding your stomach you left for the bathroom holding your stomach as your lunch betrayed you. After a few minutes of suffering on the bathroom floor, apparently Aizawa felt the need to send Momo to check on you. She helped you up and to recovery girl, not that she could do much but let you rest.

After class Katsuki made his way to the nurses office, seeing you curled in a ball with a bottle of pain killers next to you "The hell happened to you?" He spoke in a rather mean tone but you could still feel the sincerity of his words "Cramps" you said sitting up wrapping your hands around his waist. After a few minutes you grab his hand and get up.

He walks you back to your dorm letting you lean most of your body weight on him most the walk there. Not having any food in your system you felt your body weaken using what little energy you had to lay down. Katsuki watches you curl in a ball a soft yet concerning look still ligers. "I'll make you some soup. Don't die while I'm gone" he says gruffly placing a kiss on your head

When he returns he has a tray with soup, some warm tea and chocolate? You look up at him a bit confused "Why the chocolate?" You say still slightly dazed. "Im not a complete moron.. plus I ran into Momo and she told me" he says the second half is almost incoherent.

You look up at him with a smile holding his rather warm hands to your cold ones. The blissful moment is rudely interrupted by the feeling of a cramp in your lower stomach. Clenching your stomach holding back the tears that had been compiled caused by the many cramps and stress of the day.

A slight groan manages to escape your lips as you feel the side if you bed sink in next to you. Not saying anything you feel your boyfriend pull you towards him. "Where does it hurt" he says avoiding your slightly confused gaze you place his hands on your lower stomach leaning into his touch.

One main up side of Katsuki's quirk was his body radiated more heat then the average person, more so in his hands. "Thank you" you say slowly dozing off.

When you awake you feel your boyfriend's hands still wrapped around you. You walk to the bathroom taking care of yourself. When you come back Katsuki is still asleep so you crawl back on the bed laying in his lap.

The day continues with one similar to the one before.

Sorry this one was a little weird and shorter than I wanted. I'm tired, sick and sleepy but wanted to write this.

Requests are open!

[puripurin]

— Dance Partner!Yan, who was the embodiment of child star when he was 9 with his flexibility and incredible dance skills at such a young age, made him a little— scratch that, a massive little shit from the numerous praises he was showered with. That was until you stepped foot into the studio he was practicing at with your parents.

You, back then as a 9 year old child, didn't come from a wealthy family, but that didn't stop your parents from saving up until they could afford 2 months of dance practice lessons. It wasn't cheap either as the dance studio became popular from just him alone, but it was worth it for your safety as a child.

Almost immediately, he was infatuated with you. Talking with you, helping you, and just being overly friendly towards you. There was no doubt he was never going to let you go, even as a 9 year old. That's why he volunteered (well closer to asking his parents to threaten his dance coach) to be your one and olny dance partner.

You were ecstatic until you realized that you only had a week left of your dance lessons. Of course, you were sad and kind of embarrassed, but you wanted your parents to spend the money on other things other than something so frivolous, so you never said anything.

That first day when he found out that you weren't coming back was a nightmare. He was screaming and crying for you to come back, and he even lost his voice, so he resorted to isolating himself.

When you eventually came back later that day because of the frantic calls that your parents had gotten, he held on to you tight for hours and was only babbling incoherent sentences. From that day onwards, his parents were paying for you to go to the dance studio so that something like that never happens. Which leads you to the current day him.

Dance Partner! Yan was heavily affected by that incident, so now you and him were together for almost everything. Sleeping, bathing, cooking, and, obviously, dance performances. He always knows where you are, and you always know where he is.

He thinks that you are his one and only and will die on that hill forever. He's even made sure that you and him lost your virginity to one another.

Along with never allowing anyone to be your dance partner. If there was a new person who hadn't been informed of your relationship with one another and insisted on talking to you, his touchiness blows through the roof. He'll start groping you and making you flushed more obviously to deter that person away.

"Now, now, stop getting feisty. You don't think I'm tired of making sure people know that you are mine?"

Awoop, art jumscare that is partly finished. Ofc its Cecil and Clear. Some parts look bad, but idc. Im not planning for art to be my main hobbie, and i rarely draw.

Also, here's some more images? Imagines?? Ummm, whichever one is the corect one.

Also another character added to my ever so slightly increasing roster of ocs. I was gonna write the the other charas but this was siting in my head rent free like, I let you come and live her for free and I don't even charge you rent?? The disrespect i just underwent.

Anyways, it was originally going to be a dance instructor slowly getting possessvie over you and only teaching you lewd dances then it actually became dance partner yan. So un yeah wwoop.

Noy preoofread

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chocolate-Covered Strawberries

Rating: Mature

Warning: Vinnie being a munch..oral (fem receiving), reader has some thicc thighs MDNI!!

I repeat MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!

Category: F/M

Fandom: Vinnie hacker...

Relationships: Vinnie Hacker x black f reader

Summary: Vinnie being a munch before his stream...

---

---

Vinnie’s POV

It’s not often I get the luxury of waking up before her, but when I do, I make the most of it. The early morning light spills through the blinds, casting a soft glow on her smooth brown skin. She’s curled up on her side, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Her hair is freshly done—a crown of thick, shiny braids that she got done yesterday. She looks like a goddess.

But that’s not why I’m awake. No, I’ve been staring at her thick thighs peeking out from under the covers for the past five minutes. Those thighs that drive me insane every single time. I swallow hard, knowing I have a full day ahead of me—a 24-hour stream I promised my fans—but before I let the day steal me away from her, I have to make this moment ours.

I shift carefully, peeling the blankets off her without waking her. She stirs, mumbling something incoherent, and I freeze. Once I’m sure she’s still asleep, I get to work, kissing the inside of her thighs and trailing upward.

“Mmm... Vinnie?” Her voice is groggy, but there’s a hint of amusement laced in her tone.

“Morning, baby,” I mumble against her skin.

“Vinnie, what are you—” Her words cut off into a soft gasp as I slide her legs apart gently.

“Just let me take care of you,” I whisper, already lost in her scent, her warmth.

She moans softly, and I swear, it’s the best sound in the world. I take my time, savoring every second, every taste, every reaction. She tries to push my head away at one point, half-heartedly, but I grip her thighs firmly, holding her in place.

“Vinnie, you’re such a—”

“A munch?” I finish for her, grinning against her.

Her laughter is breathy and light. “Yes. A damn munch.”

I don’t argue. She’s not wrong. I keep going until she’s trembling beneath me, her hands clawing at my shoulders and back. She leaves marks—I know she does—but I can’t bring myself to care. She tastes like chocolate-covered strawberries, and I tell her as much when she finally catches her breath.

“You’re insane,” she says, panting as she pulls the covers back over her.

“Insanely in love with you,” I counter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her braids smell like coconut oil and heaven.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” she mutters, but I catch the small smile tugging at her lips.

Fast forward two hours later, and I’m sitting in front of my PC, logging into my stream. I decided to stream shirtless today—partly because it’s comfortable, but mostly because she stole my shirt after I showered. Seeing her tiny frame swallowed up in my oversized shirt did things to me, but I had a schedule to keep.

“Yo, what’s up, chat?” I greet my viewers, running a hand through my hair. Comments flood in immediately, the chat scrolling so fast I can barely keep up.

“Bro, why are you shirtless?”

“Vinnie, what happened to your back??”

“Why are your lips so swollen???”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Man, y’all are nosy today.”

The questions keep coming, though.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Did you fall or something?”

I glance over at her sitting on the couch behind me, still wearing my shirt, her thick thighs on full display. She’s scrolling through her phone, pretending not to notice me staring.

“Nah,” I say, smirking. “No fight. No fall. Just... let’s call it ‘relationship perks.’”

Chat explodes.

“WHAT???”

“VINNIE EXPLAIN.”

“PERKS???”

She looks up from her phone and arches an eyebrow at me. “Relationship perks, huh?”

“What?” I shoot back, grinning. “It’s true.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, and that only makes me laugh harder.

About halfway through the stream, I’m taking a break to grab water when she wanders into the kitchen. She’s still wearing my shirt, and it’s slipping off one shoulder, exposing her soft, brown skin. She’s so tiny—barely reaching my chest, but she packs enough attitude for someone twice her size.

“Hey,” I call out, pulling her into my arms before she can escape.

“Vinnie, you’re live,” she says, swatting at my hands, though she doesn’t pull away.

“They can wait,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “God, your thighs drive me insane, you know that?”

Her cheeks flush, and she smacks my chest lightly. “Shut up!”

“What?” I tease, spinning her around and planting her on the counter. “It’s true. You’re so beautiful, baby. I can’t get enough of you.”

She bites her lip, trying to hide her smile, but I catch it anyway. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“And you’re lucky I love you,” I shoot back, leaning in to kiss her again.

By the end of the stream, the chat is still buzzing with questions about my lips, my back, and my overall mood. I ignore most of them, but when someone asks why I’m grinning so much, I can’t help but answer.

“Because life’s good,” I say simply. “And my girl’s even better.”

She throws a pillow at me from across the room, and I laugh so hard I almost fall out of my chair.

Life really is good.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[inactiveobeymeblog]

What about overstimulating barbatos to dumbification? That kinda sound nice !!

⚠️NSFW⚠️

OH HELL YES I can't stop thinking about it now (what have you done)

But just imagine pushing him up against the wall and watching him get all flustered like "😳"

But then in the bedroom, you push him onto the bed, start roughly making out with him and begin unbuttoning his uniform.

After ruffling him up, you lean back and admire the pure work of art you've created.

Barbatos is panting, his hair a mess, his chest rising, which is partly exposed now, his face red with desire, and his eyes totally fixated on yours. Gods, if this doesn't awaken something in you, he'd be surprised, because in a matter of seconds, you have him on his hands and knees, his bare ass in the air.

But when it comes to fucking him dumb, you're relentless. You're not giving him time to breathe. He's moaning, screaming, and his eyes are all the way back in his head while his mouth is open wide, whimpering and moaning your name repeatedly.

God its so hot.

You'd tell him to count how many times you've pushed inside but he'd always say something different each time. He'd turn into a incoherent, babbling mess underneath you.

And by morning, he's not walking straight for nearly a month.

[theorphicangel]

𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

no warnings. just soft for this man

The room is still; nothing but the pitch black night and the sound of heavy snores surrounding your four walls.

You suddenly find yourself awake and with an uncomfortable twist of your head, your eyes squint at the bloodshot-red digits of your bedside alarm which reads 4:24 am.

The sun hasn’t come up yet.

But you’ll wait. Just like it always waits for you.

A stream of moonlight falls upon your bedroom floor, the curtains not fully shut. Normally this would result in the immediate urge to shut them properly. But right now you don’t feel that urge.

Probably because there’s a heavy weight across your waist which prevents you from moving. Miguel’s arm wrapped snugly around you, keeping your body close to his. You can feel his chest rise and fall, a soothing rhythm throughout the night.

With help from the sole source of light in the room, you can just about make an outline of Miguel’s face. His snores are slightly muffled by his pillow as he sleeps on his stomach. Physically, he’s close to you; your face almost touching his, his thigh practically smothering your right leg and the gentle caress of his fingertips on your waist.

Yet, you can sense the distance between the two of you. One of you is dreaming and the other isn’t.

Nine times out of ten, he’s always been the one who wakes before you. Many times before have you woken to an empty bed; Miguel’s excuse was that he was feeling restless, instead preferring to get started on breakfast while he waits for you to awake. It’s a rare sight to actually see him by your side in the mornings.

Which is partly why you don’t hesitate to grasp this opportunity with both hands, studying him like your favorite art piece at the local museum.

You begin to Imprint his features into your mind or at least as much as you can in the limited lighting: his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones stand out to you as well as the curve of his nose and the length of his lashes. You begin to study the way his dark brown locks fall across his forehead, unstyled and messy and fluffy – just the way you like it.

You notice how all the faint lines of stress seem to melt away as he succumbs to slumber, his brows relaxed and lips parted. The corners of your lips upturn at the thought of teasing him for his slight drooling or even better yet his sleep talking. It’s only a few incoherent mumbles here and there but you’ll still tease him nonetheless.

He’ll deny it of course, claiming you have no proof, a banter that you’ll begin later whilst you sit on the counter and watch him make breakfast for the two of you. You may not always be a morning person but it’s moments like those which motivate you to get up and out of bed the most.

Gently, you bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your touch is soft, careful not to disturb him from his sleep. You’re not sure how much he’s been getting recently. As your palm makes contact with his skin, you can feel your heart swell. A gooey, sticky sort of emotion sticking between the gaps of your ribcage – a large part of you thinks it’s love but it’s too early to tell.

How would he react, you think, if you did tell him that you loved him?

From afar or from the perspective of a stranger, Miguel’s personality seems to be stoic. He’s someone who takes his work and craft seriously, seeming to have no speciality for jokes or games.

At least that’s what it looks like on the outside.

For years he’s built up these walls which seemed to be impenetrable and unrelenting. To others it was a sign to keep their distance, a warning to stay away but to you it was a sign of someone who was desperate to be loved. To be loved and held by someone in this lifetime even if it was only temporary.

Like a shadow you slipped in through the cracks, transitioning from something which he initially thought would be temporary into something that seems worthwhile.

Just like the grip he has around your waist in this current moment you can tell that he’s scared you’ll disappear. Now that he’s found you he really doesn’t want to let you go.

You won’t tell him yet, you think. You won’t express your sudden realization of wanting to be around him all time, wanting to learn everything about him, wanting to be indulged in every single thought that he has, even the weird, stupid ones.

You want to continue your late night conversations that run until 4am but only feel like five minutes. You want to continue feeling his body relax in your arms each and every time you surprise him with a hug from behind. You want to feel like home for him as he does for you.

You want to tell him this and more but a small injection of anxiety seems to prevent the words from forming on your tongue. It’s a sworn secret kept between yourself and the moon.

And you think it’ll stay a secret for a little longer, just until you figure out a way to find out if he feels something similar, just until the sun comes up again.

tysm for reading!! reblogs are very much appreciated :)

[lollyposp]

okay im only slightly going insane right now about how MUCH i adore the way agatha is being portrayed in agatha all along. she's this awesome mix of horrible and sympathetic BUT not in the way that excuses everything she does. like, the other witches dislike her for good reason and even when agatha is nice to them or they realise she's got her own issues too like, that doesn't change what she's done in the past to get her reputation.

but ALSO it's so obvious that 90% or something of Agatha's personality is either a facade or an exaggeration of her bitterness because after everything we know of that's happened to her ("i can be good" "no you cannot", her son dying and rio's obvious involvement in that) it's like. how can she love. how can she trust when those she loved made her feel betrayed, or she lost them, or even both.

i think the first clue that a lot of her personality is a facade was the whole "just blast me" situation, because to me it felt like "well yeah Agatha's clearly nasty but how much of that is because she needs to annoy people into trying to kill her so she can grab their magic?" but I hadn't quite realised that there could be more to it than that

but episode 4 had SO MANY examples. i mean, Agatha's entire "no fucks given" attitude just fizzles out when the teen is dying and i feel like even the other witches picked up on it, like jen was clearly stunned by Agatha's grief as well as by Teen's condition. and then her sitting with Teen until he woke up, not even taking her eyes off him but as soon as he wakes up she pretends she just Happened to check on him Just as he woke up and that she didn't stay there the entire time.

and don't even GET ME STARTED on everything else. the scene at the fire where she very clearly struggled through having a positive interaction with the other witches?? and also the whole "she is my scar" but if i think too much about that i will actually go insane.

the scene that REALLY hasn't left my head all day is the scene where rio tells agatha that Teen isn't hers. ALL THE PROPS to kathryn hahn here she's an INCREDIBLE actress, but the way agatha just says NOTHING and slowly puts on a smile....😦 i was watching the episode with my housemates and the only thing i could say to them was "i literally saw the moment she put her act back on". because for all that agatha is so brash and loud, and no matter how much she might seek conflict with others, she runs away from all her emotional pain because it's too much for her to bear. because how do you even move on from the woman you loved being at least partly complicit in your son's death? whether agatha really DID trade him for the dark hold and regretted it immediately or whether the rumour IS just a rumour and nick and the dark hold aren't connected at all, RIO still is connected to either of those ideas.

(honestly as it stands right now im in whatever camp believes he WAS traded for the darkhold, but agatha somehow didn't realise he would be traded until after it was too late, because i feel like it's what explains her actions in WV and her hallucination the most. also it makes rio's actions all the more painful to agatha because it would have been a mistake she didn't mean to make, and rio would not budge even with that knowledge and OUCH. but that's neither here nor there)

honestly this whole incoherent essay was just to say that i love Agatha's character. i love that the question surrounding her isn't really "is she good or evil?" or even "can she be good?". i feel like it's clear there IS a good person in agatha but because she's ignored it for so long (some of that is probably due to the darkhold) the question kind of becomes "does it matter that she's got good inside her if she refuses to show it?". she's so firmly in the morally grey camp that while i do kind of want her to have a redemption arc and to have a whole found family thing go on, i honestly don't see it happening and i also at the same time DON'T want her to be redeemed when she's so interesting because she's this person who clearly has the capacity to be good and chooses not to out of pride and fear of being vulnerable and all the trauma she's accumulated.

oh i completely forgot to mention that im also obsessed with the sound booth scene???? i honestly can't figure out if she's just shit stirring when she projects her and rio's conversation for the fun of it, or if it's like a fucked up agatha way of trying to protect her new coven by giving them reasons to distrust rio and be wary of her, specifically because she thinks rio will betray her/betray them and reap them. I can't figure it out. it might even be both.

anyway live laugh love agatha

[springwitch8]

hots for teacher (part 2) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later? (part 2: what happens)

warnings: smut, intensely NSFW, praise kink, age gap, squirting, d/s vibes, inexperienced!reader, minors and men please don't touch this post

notes: ask and you shall receive, beauties! thank you for all the love on part 1, it's kinda surreal to be writing my own fics but also super liberating. any feedback is welcome. idk when i'll write again but i may or may not have another little nsfw draft with a more... punishing... interpretation of mel so we'll see! also, feel free to send me asks because i'm lonely. this one goes out to whoever said melissa schemmenti loves sluts, 'cause yeah she does.

the car ride back to melissa's place felt like it would never end. you crossed your legs when you first got into the passenger seat--partly out of habit and partly to get some friction on your aching core--and were quickly reprimanded.

"tsk tsk, baby. guess i'll have to teach you manners, too. keep those pretty thighs apart for me, all the way home. you're gonna wait patiently until i get my hands on you," melissa scolded.

you whined incoherently, and she responded with a dangerous laugh. the trip was short but unbearable. she had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other drew lazy patterns on your inner thigh. you squirmed and writhed, even moaned quietly, but she remained nonchalant.

at one point, when her fingers drew oh-so close to where you needed them most, your thighs snapped shut of their own accord.

"c'mon, legs open," was all she said in response. she tried to act casual, but you could tell from her excited half-smile that she was enjoying this game more than she let on.

as soon as you got in the door, she was on you. you barely had the focus to take in your surroundings as she lavished you with kisses, working her way across your lips and face before burying herself in your neck. her house was cozy and tastefully decorated with gentle lighting. in the soft glow, her slightly disheveled hair and lustful eyes were a sight you'd never forget.

"is there anyone--oh!" you squealed as her fingers began to trace circles on your nipples through your dress. "is there anyone else here?"

"sensitive, huh?" she teased, smirking down at you. "and no, it's just me tonight."

before you had time to consider what that last word implied, she picked you up and effortlessly whisked you to her bedroom. you were dazzled by the sight of her private space--it was simple yet beautiful, adorned with shades of green and twinkling lights. you didn't expect this level of whimsy from her, and it somehow made her even sexier.

she laid you on the bed carefully, reverently. "god, look at you." she whispered, sending shivers down your spine as she positioned herself on top of you and returned to your lips.

by now you were painfully needy from all her teasing, and you just needed her to fuck you senseless. you tried to convey that with your impatient noises, but it seemed the older woman had other plans. she pulled away from your lips to take in your flushed, desperate face.

"soon, sweetheart, soon. i know you're so worked up, but i plan to make this last."

you hummed in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the buttons of her shirt. you thought maybe if you got her a bit more riled up, she would be less inclined to take her time.

melissa groaned, feeling your delicate fingers ghost over her chest, but shook her head in disapproval. she removed your hands from her shirt, grabbing your wrists with surprising force. "i'm not taking my clothes off yet. i'm in charge, and you need to learn patience."

you gave her your best pout, but you knew she wouldn't budge. this was about power, not patience. she wanted to be clothed, composed and in control while you lay naked and vulnerable underneath her.

she started to pull at the fabric of your dress. you lifted your hips, and in one fluid motion, she slipped it over your head and off of you. it was an expert move, and you shivered at the idea that she had done this many times before.

when she saw your body, she paused for a moment, her mouth slightly open and her pupils dilated. "no bra?" she asked under her breath, not looking for an answer. "you're so soft in my hands..." she mused as her hands massaged your breasts. her fingers moved to pinch and rub over your nipples.

you moaned, bucking your hips upward and seeking more contact. she took the hint and directed her attention to your core.

"nice panties, by the way," she said with a cocky laugh, tugging playfully at the soaked pink lace. "who knew little miss gothic had a colorful side?"

"please, mel, no more teasing, i need you so bad," was all you could manage.

"okay, baby, let's get these off ya." she hooked her fingers through your panties and you lifted your hips, allowing her to drag them off. she folded them neatly and tucked them into her front pocket. something cutesy to remind her of you, wet and pliant under her touch.

"mmm, such a messy girl. you must feel so embarrassed, all spread out and naked for me while i'm fully clothed, playin' with you."

you could only whimper and whine, helplessly turned on by her words but pinned to the bed and unable to move. she cooed at you and took pity, moving down your body to get closer to your core.

she placed her hands once again on the insides of your thighs, gently pulling them apart and revealing your glistening pussy. her breath stuttered upon seeing the wetness covering your core and thighs.

"jesus, hon, you're dripping. you're just aching for me, aren't ya? need me to make you feel good?"

"yes!" you finally exclaimed, regaining your voice. "yes, please, melissa, please touch me, i need you," you begged.

"well, since you asked so nicely..." she gave you a smirk and trailed a finger between your puffy lips, gathering the wetness there.

by this point you were writhing all over the bed, so she had to pin your legs down with her knees. neither of you minded, though. you enjoyed feeling completely at her mercy, and she enjoyed watching you squirm under her.

finally, after an eternity of torture, she gave in, slipping a finger into you with ease and rubbing gentle circles over your clit.

"so tight, fuck," she muttered to herself as she began to move inside you, transfixed by the feeling of you around her.

"feels so good, ohhh..." you mewled as her finger quickly found a rhythm, pumping forcefully and curling at your most sensitive spots.

"you're taking me so well, baby, my brave girl," she soothed, relishing in her ability to draw such pathetic sounds from you. "can you handle one more?"

you nodded frantically, almost too lost in the haze of pleasure to hear her.

she grinned and pushed another finger inside you, making you cry out. you were relatively inexperienced, so the stretch was a bit painful at first, but you were soon overcome by the bliss of feeling so full.

"that's new, huh? poor baby, can barely take two fingers," her thrusts got rougher, as if she was trying to break you. "don't whine now, you wanted this."

you were overwhelmed with pleasure and the slight pain of the intrusion. her fingers were long, nimble and skilled, and she seemed to know all the right spots and rhythms to make you see stars. her fingers stroked your clit with more pressure now, making you shake and moan uncontrollably. it was almost too much. you wanted to scream, but you could only produce pathetic little whimpers of "ah, ah, ah!"

she was clearly aware of what she was doing, and she revelled in your pleasure. she would ease up, return to a gentler pace, and then thrust hard into your g-spot just to hear your cries and gasps. she longed to see you lose control.

"that's a good girl, keep takin' my fingers just like that. you're close, aren't you baby? let's see how long you can last against me," she said, her voice deep and her smile mischievous. there was a competitive edge to her words, like making you fall apart was some kind of victory to her.

suddenly she pulled away completely, and you nearly sobbed. your hips bucked up into nothing. your helpless whimpers were music to the older woman's ears, and she snickered to herself as she moved down your body.

for a moment, there was silence. you stared at her, silently pleading for her touch. she cocked her head at you and raised an eyebrow, silently asking you: are you ready? you nodded intently. you weren't sure what she was going to do to you, but you sure as hell wanted to find out.

before you even had the chance to brace yourself, she was thrusting two fingers roughly inside you again, rubbing hard at that spongy spot. for the final blow, melissa leaned down and attached her lips to your clit, sucking harshly.

"not yet, sweetheart. stay with me," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she felt your walls flutter and clench around her.

with her free hand, she reached up and pressed softly on your lower abdomen. between that, the punishing thrusts, and the hot pressure on your clit, you couldn't take it anymore. the sensations overwhelmed you. the world went blank, and all you could feel was warmth. you swam through oceans of white-hot ecstasy, riding wave after wave of pleasure. and melissa was right there, coaxing you through heaven's gates.

melissa's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your outer thighs, bringing you back down to earth. "come back to me," she whispered sweetly. you opened your eyes.

"there she is," she said, her eyes sparkling with relief.

she gave you a giddy smile and you noticed the wetness all over her face... and fingers... and sheets. you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

melissa must have picked up on this, as she took hold of your hand and reassured you. "don't be embarrassed, angel. that was probably the hottest thing i've ever seen." she laid down next to you as she spoke.

you hummed and buried your face in the crook of her neck. she was warm and smelled like cinnamon.

"did you know you could do that, hon?" she asked.

"yeah," you giggled, still dazed. "but i didn't know you could do that."

"i'm fulla surprises, kid," she laughed, stroking your hair. "let me run us a bath, and then we'll see what kind of surprises you've got in you."

she carried you bridal-style to the bathtub, and you relaxed into the bliss. feeling the warmth of her arms around your frame. drowning in her.

[beneaththebloodylake]

yeah capitalism and economics isnt really addressed at all, its all about the nobility, i suppose maybe in the yuumori universe the industrial revolution hasnt started yet, though they do have technology and stuff. but like you said, if they go on from this point to there, thered be that sort of class inequality developing instead. i dunno, maybe itll be brought up in part two of the manga, surely thatll have to be about the same theme of inequality at least a bit

as for the violence, in the manga the guy on the noactic is some random person. i think the impression i got is that they let him die instead of intervening but ot hadnt been in the priginal plan. also alberts bio family werent good people, but neither did they actually murder anyone, and in the manga their servents died in the fire too. though that is when theyre all still kids. and youre right that he definitely tries to avoid innocent people dying as much as possible, i think the idea is that sometimes its unavoidable if he wants to acheive his plans.

which shows i think, similar to the rochefort stuff (as completely inaccurate to actual history as it is i think it makes more sense to view it through the lense of yuumori as irrelevent to the real worl situation) that william prioritises the collective good of society over that of the individual, whether thats himself or other people. i think the jack the ripper case shows both that he still has limits though over how far hell go, but also that he wont accept a system that sacrifices some parts of society in favour of others. which is a bit of a contradiction, but i think thats part of his character, like how he believes he has to die, and then by the end he does the same sort of stuff without killing people

the collective good of society thing is sort of similar to socialism, though also considering the series is from japan, and this part of asia is generally considered to have more collectivist thinking, even when it isnt very socialist (for example in the way buisiness is treated). though im still not really familiar with japanese political thinking at all. the fact it was made in japan and not the uk or somewhere else definitely has a big part in how its all portrayed though i think

but anyway, william clearly sees social cohesion as so important, hes not willing to risk the chaos and potential negative consequences of a revolution (in the late 19th c he wouldve had the british french and american revolutions, maybe not others, but hed be smart enough to know even without those that a revolutions probably not going to go well, and he himself is proof that violence generally leads to more violence, his plan being to kill himself to end that cycle). i suppose communism definitely sees social cohesion as important, but definitely more so in stalinism than marxism as a way to control the population, which isnt exactly what williams after. and communism also sees the bourgeoisie as the enemy, i think the idea is to get rid of them and make them workers instead? whereas william doesnt really seem to want to get rid of the existence of the nobility completely. which is partly why i think i wouldnt consider him far left revolutionary, more like centre left, possibly even more moderate if he was in todays society not victorian times. like he doesnt seem to want to overturn society completely. his methods are extreme, but even there theres a lot of restraint with what he isnt willing to do

Was William from Moriarty the Patriot socialist?

During the manga and the anime he very clearly believed that the class system is a curse upon the British empire, that change must happen and that it is extremely unfair for the 2%, the upper classes, the Bourgeois be spending all their life in luxury whole the lower class, the Proletariat work all day to feed their families.

Although it is true that that way of thinking can be found in socialism, there are some things that he seems to disagree with in that ideology. In the Jack the Ripper arc, William finds out that there is no Jack the Ripper, an organization is making a villain to try and stir up a revolution between the Proletariat and the Bourgeois.

That, coincidently is the whole idea of Socialism, Communism and Marxism, a Proletariat revolution. He is against that. If he wanted a Proletariat revolution, he would just let that happen, but he didn't.

He tried to stop that from happening. William doesn't completely agree with Socialism because Socialism, Communism, Marxism ect is really violent. Innocent lives will be lost. But wouldn't that backfire with his final plan? He started killing people and setting fires to become a common enemy.

There is a big difference between the revolution and what he did. His plan, was making him a common enemy, just like Maximilien Robespierre, so that the two classes could put aside those differences. While a revolution wants one class against eachother, he wanted all of the people together.

That I believe is the biggest difference. He doesn't want to eat the rich like socialist want, he doesn't believe if someone is rich he is inherently evil. After all, people are born into wealth, just like people are born into homelessness.

So in conclusion, no. He isn't a socialist or communist. He believes in some ideas of Socialism but he despises the violence of the revolution socialism wants. The red in his eyes isn't for the Soviet Flag (fortunately since that would be time inaccurate)

But that's just a theory,

An anime theory

Thanks for reading.

It feels so good to rant about communism in anime.