#because now they can both be read on their own (at least that’s what they say although i dk how i feel about that)

[thewitchblue]

"Get your hands off that, Richard John Grayson!"

You stole your potion back while swatting his curious hand away. You sternly say,

"This will liquefy your bones. What if you tripped?"

You were about to continue your worried rant, but Dick cringed at the words liquefied bones. You decided he's had enough of a punishment. He'll forever be cursed with the knowledge you can liquefy bones.

You sighed. You had not anticipated Tim's siblings to be so... grabby, so to speak. They don't leave anything magical alone. Jason has been caught reading a "spell book" (he didn't know it was a baking book with cute Halloween themed baked goods, but you kept that knowledge between the two of you), Dick has tampered with your potions, Damian had read all your dark witchcraft books, even Cass has meddled by touching your hex powder. Tim is the only good one, as expected.

"Can't you leave my potions alone? Do you not remember what happened last time? You had to live with backwards joints for a week while I made a remedy."

Dick rubbed his elbows subconsciously. How could he forget? He had to learn how to fight like a contortionist instead of an acrobat.

You sighed. The wedding is in a couple of hours, but you've been running everywhere trying to control Bruce's borderline feral children for months now.

"Tt. Remember when Todd tripped and became a pile of glitter?"

You frowned at Damian. Jason has been a lot better since then. He's still covered in glitter six months later. You noticed an empty beaker to Damian's left and immediately asked in a warning tone,

"Damian, what did you drink?"

He was holding his hands behind his back too innocently. You narrowed your eyes at him. He retained his innocent act by saying,

"Nothing. Why do you ask, ummi?"

You raised your eyebrows at him. Yeah, right. His legs are starting to fuse together.

"I don't know, maybe because your legs are turning reptilian."

Damian, now caught, began to beg,

"Ummi, help me. I don't want to miss the wedding."

You almost laughed as you walked to your bookcase and pulled out the right spell book. You looked at Damian and then at his now merged legs. You grimaced as you said,

"Anguis mutationem."

Damian hissed in pain as his legs split in two again. You winced. The bones had fused then. They were cracked in half like a christmas cracker. You said sternly,

"Nobody is allowed in the magic room until they can prove they can be responsible."

You ushered them all out of the room as you put up spells. Nobody is allowed in except Jason and Tim, as they are the only two to respect magic. Not even Bruce is allowed in.

Once satisfied with your wards and spells, you left the room. You need to get ready with your girls.

You had no idea why Bruce insisted on a normal wedding, but you humoured him. You allowed the girls to fuss over you like the wedding means something more than a lavish party. You left Bruce to do all the planning, who then left it all to Alfred, who handed it right back to Bruce with a fatherly glare, so then Bruce pawned it off to the girls, who then pawned it off to Dick because he's the oldest. Steph said with a grin,

"You're so beautiful."

You sighed. You look like a swan, in your opinion. You told Tim to order you whatever because you didn't care. In your eyes, you and Bruce are already married, so why bother with a wedding? You both signed the contract to merge your souls together.

Maybe that is why you don't care. Bruce's soul is moody and broods more than speaks. Like a broody hen trying to awkwardly engulf your own soul in the weirdest hug ever. His very essence was nestled alongside yours.

Tim also didn't care. He knew getting you to care about the wedding would be like giving a feral cat a bath: it just won't happen. You cared for Bruce, deeply at that, but you can't care about silly traditions like weddings.

"Can I at least set up runes to keep out criminals?"

You had asked Bruce the night prior. He countered with raised eyebrows,

"You can do that?"

You nodded like that wasn't a game changer for Gotham as a whole. Maybe you could reverse some of the curses on Gotham.

"Yeah, of course. Runes are picky when it comes to interpreting what does and doesn't count, but I can easily do that."

Tim wanted to help, to your delight. He made sure all the runes were correct as you set them down. He was even double-checking the designs in the book to you and reading the runes as you placed them. You taught him basic witchcraft as a kid, but he shined when it came to runes. It's like learning a language, and you helped him become fluent.

Within the hour, you had placed a long list of runes all over where the guests will be and around the alter currently set up.

Now you're here in all your swan glory. Everybody already walked down the aisle, but you, and suddenly you were anxious. Your runes covered everything, and your wards protected every innocent bystander from harms way. Why were you nervous?

"Are you well, my dear?"

Alfred asked at your side. You weren't, but you nodded. You hesitated but slowly walked down the aisle.

You acted almost as if you were trying to approach a cornered animal with every tentative step forward.

The entire family looked wonderful together, despite none of them looking uniformed. Nothing looked like it matched, but you loved the chaos of everything.

If you didn't know better, you'd think the wedding was circus themed with all the bright saturated colours and the cake Dick insisted on designing after Jason baked the tiers.

Jason, at the time, sighed heavily but allowed it and immediately regretted the decision when the clown sprinkles came out from behind Dick's back. Dick thought he did a pretty good job, but Jason winced when he saw it. Bruce would have been furious if it hadn't surprisingly fit.

Damian set up the decorations, and it showed. Everything was set up in a way that nothing could be used as a weapon, and there was nowhere to hide. When questioned by Bruce about the odd arrangement, Damian had said he would be the only weapon allowed. Bruce didn't bother questioning him further.

Bruce's colleagues showed up to the wedding in civilian clothes as well. Clark and Diana were ecstatic to see Bruce find love despite his loner nature.

Oliver was surprised Bruce would ever marry someone, especially a civilian. What else is the Bat hiding from him? That you're a witch? Ha! Bruce hates magic. He would never date, let alone marry a witch.

Diana fell in love with you immediately and told Bruce to marry you before she does. Bruce, evidently, took that as a threat and married you magically that night.

Martian Manhunter is the only one who knows about your witch background, and that's solely because he accidentally read your mind when he met you. He knew Bruce had the tendency to chase after women who were generally unobtainable, so it was unsurprising to him.

Hal was the last to know about a wedding happening. He has no idea Bruce was even in a relationship. Who is crazy enough to marry Batman? The stoic Batman revealed nothing.

Clark was the one to let it slip, and Bruce gave him the silent treatment for weeks. Bruce even hid his heartbeat from Clark, which caused a panicked Superman to go on a hunt for the stealthy Knight. How does he do that? WHY does he do that? He knows Clark will panic. He knows Clark likes listening to his heartbeat to make sure he's alive and relatively safe.

"The League can leave my relationship alone."

Bruce had grumbled as they pestered him. He was reluctant to invite them to the wedding at all. He had hoped they would leave him alone, and Diana would stop threatening him if he brought you to the watch tower. He was wrong. He was forced into inviting them all. With a combination of Tim and the League pestering him to marry you, he conceded to pushing the wedding along faster than he would have liked.

Tim was about to cry when he saw you walking down the aisle. You are his mother, and he was so happy to see you permanently join the family.

You smiled fondly at your family. You raised Tim, but you felt like you became their mum, too. Who knew you'd become a mother of eight?

[bloatedandalone04]

Smile - Blurb

WC: 800 | Warnings: fluff, swearing, can be read as an add on to this fic.

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | RIP TikTok (I say as I still have it)

While you promised your boyfriend that you’d chill out on the more intense pranks and trends you saw going around on TikTok, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging in the occasional harmless one. 

He was just too easy. The most perfect, unsuspecting victim. 

Drew was sorting through the clothing that was left over in the laundry basket when you walked into the room, a mischievous smile on your face. Both you and Drew fucking hated putting the laundry away, and so it just sat in the basket, barely folded but clean, tucked away in the corner of the room. You and he picked at it through the week until there was hardly anything left in it, and when you and he couldn’t tell if what was left in it was dirty or clean, that’s when one of you finally put the remnants away. 

When Drew turned and caught your eye, taking in the faint smirk on your lips, one of his own formed as he tried to smooth out a wrinkled shirt. “Hey, babe,” he greeted you, his eyes flickering from yours to your phone that was held in your hands as you stepped towards him. “What’s up?”

You grinned and watched as he re-folded a pair of your jeans. “Nothing,” you answered, moving closer to him until you were standing in front of him. Drew eyed your phone warily, his brows pressed together as he realized that you were once again up to no good and trying to get a reaction out of him for whatever new prank that had caught your attention this week.

At least he was aware of this one and not totally oblivious to it like he usually is when you pull pranks on him, the ones that required you to hide your phone so he wasn’t able to catch on. 

But that fucking smirk of yours never failed to put him on edge. And rightfully so. 

He turned his focus back to sorting through the basket that was nearly empty when you decided to progress whatever it was that you were up to. 

“Hey, baby?” you hummed, reaching up to grab his face in your hand, your fingers  and thumb softly digging into his cheeks as you turned his head so he was looking back at you. Drew was already smiling, purely out of instinct from having you near him, when you added, “Smile if you want to break up.”

You pointed your phone directly at him as his eyes widened and he tried to force the smile off his face, but you were laughing and had caught him off guard so fast, he was fighting a losing battle already. 

“Okay, wait-” he tried, but you let out an exaggerated gasp as his lips curved upwards out of habit. “No, wait, baby.” he rasped, reaching for you when you stepped away from him with a poorly hidden laugh. 

“You want to break up?” you questioned, knowing damn well that you were practically forcing him to smile. He couldn’t help himself around you. You made him happy, you were one of the funniest people he knew, of course he was going to smile or laugh when you randomly say something like that. 

“No,” he answered, ducking out of frame of your phone as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You know I don’t, I just need a sec, okay?” he said, holding back another smile as he buried his face against your neck. 

“You’re still smiling!” you whined, trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he just held you tighter. 

“Because I wasn’t expecting that,” he replied, pressing a series of fast kisses to your cheek and jaw as you struggled to lift your hand that was holding your phone. “We’re not breaking up, babe. That wasn’t fair, I didn’t know you were going to say that.”

He was whining now as you pulled away and pointed your phone at him again. “Okay, try again,” you offered, and he stood up straight, his lips pressing into a straight line as he looked at you. He was ready for it this time. “Smile if you want to break up.”

Drew’s mouth stayed completely still, his eyes gazing into yours past the camera. Even as you held eye contact with him, he didn’t budge at all, and you smiled up at him. 

“Aw,” you cooed, moving closer to him as his hands instantly found their home on your waist, but he still wasn’t smiling. “You can smile now, baby.”

But he shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” 

You laughed because he was right. You were still filming, and he knew better than to give in before you stopped recording. But you knew how to get to him. “Drew,” you cackled, draping one arm around his neck. “I love you.”

And like you expected, his lips trembled a bit as he fought off another growing smile. “Fuck. Okay-”

“I knew it,” you huffed playfully as you ducked out of his arms and walked quickly towards the bedroom door. “I knew it.”

“That’s not fair,” he called after you as he shook his head, bending down to pick up the last remaining shirts in the bottom of the laundry basket. “How am I not supposed to smile when you tell me that?”

[bckwardsfrwards]

could you do dr phosphorus x reader relationship headcanons on a alien reader

Absolutely! Thanks for the ask :D

These are for a GN reader! Headcanons below the cut sorry for the long wait I have a lot of projects I'm working on at the moment!

At first he'd be a bit weary, You being from an entirely different planet and all. But he'd be quick to warm up to you once he realized you weren't a real threat to him. (Not that much is)

He'd crack stupid jokes with you most of which you don't understand. But his genuine attempts to make you laugh slowly start to work. And when you reference something from your homeworld he's equally puzzled. You both laugh anyways putting the cultural difference aside.

He often seeks you out since you more than tolerate his presence. He was so used to being alone or disregarded that he easily latches onto your genuine attention.

You often find yourselves telling stories from your past, some pleasant but most not. You sympathize with the doctor and all he has lost.

"Courting" with Doctor Phosphorus is a little strange to say the least. You're unused to Earth's unspoken societal rules and rituals. So when he is openly being flirtatious you're a little oblivious to it. You can't see his eyes and you don't understand the meaning of prolonged eye contact, so when you finally figure out his intentions of romancing you you're a little embarrassed at your obliviousness.

Actually dating the doctor is an interesting experience for the both of you. You've never been with an earthling and he's never even seen an alien before you. But you quickly catch on to what he likes.

You learn Phosphorus hasn't known a friendly touch in 15 years and without thinking too much you pull him into an embrace. He's a bit shocked when you pull back and you're completely unharmed. Casual touches quickly become one of your favorite things. Tracing the outline of his bones over his translucent skin.

You can see through him both literally and figuratively. He's not as good at hiding his emotions as he thinks. He seeks you out often just for the comfort of your presence. Whether it's sitting together in companionable silence or just holding hands, feeling the heat radiate from him.

You learn that it's not as hard to read Phosphorus as you originally thought. The way the flames on his head grow a little hotter and burn a little brighter when he's upset. How after a particularly draining mission he'll be more needy for your touch than normal.

He has no shame when it comes to your relationship. Often joking openly with the other commandos about it. Holding your hand in the back of the transport car. Trying his damnedest not to let you out of his sight. He's overly cautious and for good reason, he's terrified of losing you.

You can hold your own in a fight but whenever you find yourself injured he's gentle with you. Attentive and overly cautious making sure that your wounds are tended to. He tells you it's because he was an actual doctor once but you can tell it's just an excuse to worry over you.

As snarky and sarcastic as he is, he is also very genuine and caring. He tries to put your needs before his own whenever he can. Deflecting and claiming he doesn't need to be doted on. But you do anyway, you show him the same gentleness and affection that he so clearly craves and he melts into it.

You show him love he hasn't known in this body and he isn't sure how to handle it. He's torn between giving in and staying reserved. But he lets you in, lets himself be vulnerable and cared for.

That's all for now, maybe I'll do a part 2 and include NSFW headcanons :)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I haven't seen the London special—and I don't want to—but I've read the plot and something just occurred to me.

Why did Bunnyx need Ladybug's help? Why couldn't Bunnyx have figured things out and fixed the timeline herself? I know only the 14-year-old Bunnyx was left, but that gives her ample time to do SOMETHING.

According to Marinette, she believes that the Rabbit Miraculous is actually the most powerful of all the miraculouses. That means a whole lot of responsibility, which she gave to Alix when she let her keep the Rabbit Miraculous PERMANENTLY.

So, why didn't Alix just fix the timelines herself? She was the Present Alix, which means nothing has happened to her at the moment. She could've brainstormed her way into figuring out what happened, who it is, and stopped them herself.

I don't know. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like if you give someone a miraculous that YOU YOURSELF BELIEVE IS THE MOST POWERFUL MIRACULOUS, YOU'D GIVE IT TO SOMEONE WHO CAN ACTUALLY WORK BY THEMSELVES???

And it's not like I'm saying Alix can't ask for help, but it just feels like her first thought was: "I gotta get Ladybug!" And not "Oh my God, the timelines are changing, I have to figure out who it is!"

If Alix is going to run to Ladybug every time the timeline changes, why give her the responsibility of making sure nothing happens to the timeline in the first place??? If it's going to be like that, Ladybug might as well have just kept the Rabbit Miraculous herself, since it seems like she'll be the one shouldering the job anyway.

The show's obsession with making Marinette do everything herself has created massive flaws in the narrative and makes a ton of characters look bad - or at least poorly suited to their hero role - because they generally default to only doing what Marinette tells them to do. The show will even go out of its way to punish characters when they take initiative. If your name isn't Marinette, then initiative is always, always punished. And if your name is Marinette? Then it depends on the writers' mercurial whims and not anything even remotely resembling logic.

Alya suffers the the initiative = bad curse all the time like in Optigami where she decides to take the turtle to the day's fight even though she was only told to take the fox and the bee:

Rena Rouge: Mirage! (an illusion of Ladybug is created) And voila! A cool little Ladybug illusion to keep Style Queen busy while I'll… (Rena Rouge looks at the Turtle Miraculous container on the Miracle Box and takes the Miraculous) Longg: Did the guardian ask you to do that? Rena Rouge: Just a precaution.

This should have been Alya's moment to shine. A moment where she took initiative and it paid off, showing Marinette that she could trust others to make their own calls. Instead, this choice is painted as Alya being blinded by her love for Nino and leads to Shadow Moth almost getting the turtle because he just so happened to make a perfect clone of Nino and Alya unknowingly gave the clone the turtle. (Why does this show love evil twins so much? This is basically a the same plot as the season four final. Get a new gimmick! This one is just dumb.)

Even more annoyingly, the one who unmasks sentiNino isn't his girlfriend, it's Ladybug even though the thing that exposes sentiNino is something unique to Nino and Alya:

Ladybug: I guess it was only here to help repair everything. (looks confused when she sees her compact mirror) (Sentinino gives Alya a simple hi-five) (Ladybug remembers Alya and Nino's special hi-five in a flashback) Ladybug: (looks at both of them with curious look) We're gonna have to be a lot more careful now. Shadow Moth knows the identities of some of the people I have given a miraculous and apparently he's decided to use this information. (looks at Sentinino) Isn't that right, Shadow Moth? (Alya becomes shocked, and Sentinino panicks as he got exposed) Ladybug: I'm sorry Alya, you better move away from him. This isn't Nino, it's a Sentimonster. Alya: Huh? (gasps)

It's Alya and Nino's special handshake!!! Alya should be the one to figure it out, not Ladybug!!! Writers, stop this! Let Marinette have competent allies! She's not suddenly less cool if other people are useful! Also, stop making love a bad thing! Alya and Marinette both suffer every time they're open with their love interest and I hate it. Whatever happened to romantic love being a good thing?

Anyway, all of the Optigami nonsense leads to an ending that makes zero sense:

Alya: Shadow Moth almost unmasked you because of me. I should have never taken the Turtle Miraculous. Marinette: It's true, you did make a mistake, and that's why I'm gonna have to make a difficult decision. The most important thing is to learn from our mistakes. And today, I learned that I need an ally who can replace me in case something happens to me one day. (hands Alya the Fox Miraculous) From now on, you will keep the Miraculous of the Fox with you, and I'm gonna tell you everything I know.

This ending does not fit the episode in the slightest. Why does Alya's failure make her promotion material? How was the turtle even a failure when it would have been fine if that was really Nino? How was anyone supposed to tell that wasn't Nino when the peacock is so stupidly overpowered? It's so dumb!

This episode should have been Alya earning her promotion by being awesome, taking initiative, and noticing things Marinette didn't. What is the point of having a reporter who never notices things? Why does Marinette decide to give Alya secret knowledge and a full-time miraculous in an episode that was all about Shadow Moth almost winning because he knows the temp heroes' identities? Why does nothing about this show make sense? Writers, what are you doing???

The saddest thing about this Marinette-first approach is that it's not even making Marinette look good. This goes beyond the asinine "Marinette must always be wrong" rule. The problem here is that the narrative has made many of the secondary characters feel incredibly important. As a result, the audience naturally expects those characters to have important roles. When those character are then denied the roles that they should have, the audience gets angry and the anger usually gets directed at Marinette. For many viewers, it feels like she's hogging the spotlight and denying herself help even thought those things are poorly thought-out choices made by the writers and not intentional flaws that are meant to be part of Marinette's character.

I know one person whose favorite character is Alix, Alya is one of mine, and a huge portion of the fandom loves Adrien. All characters who should have been allowed to shine, but who got shoved to the side in favor of Marinette. The casual watcher is not going to blame the writing for that. They're going to get mad at Marinette because she's basically the avatar of the bad writing, forced to do the most asinine things so that she maintains the spotlight even if it's slowly killing her character while making every other character look pathetic and/or ineffectual.

[dunmeshistash]

ive always wondered if milsiril's overprotectiveness of kabru was less because of infantilisation (although she def like all elves has that problem) and more so out of guilt. she was a captain of the canaries during the Utaya incident I believe and she witnessed what happened and she couldn't stop it. and she left the canaries because of it and took in the kid who was the Only survivor, raised him in extreme comfort so he'd never see the horrors again and didn't want him anywhere near the dungeons! like i think learning self defense for defenses sake would have made her hesitant but she would have obliged but because it was specifically for the dungeons she was so against it. also like he must have had a rough few years dealing with that trauma as well which doubled her protectiveness

I believe it's a mixture of both, I don't think you can really take away the guilt (actually unsure if that's the best word to describe it) nor the race relations from how Milsiril sees Kabru.

I am the Milsiril apologist ™ but the fact she see's Kabru as a child even now is a big part of their relationship, she's a mother that can't grow up (both for being an elf and for her own issues) and that has to cope with her children outgrowing her fast

Putting a read more cause as usual when it's about Milsiril I talk too much

We can see in every way Milsiril acts that she sees Kabru at most as a toddler during his time with her, she's hand feeding him, has him in a room full of toys and talks about him like he's a cute baby.

I think people are too mean about this side of Milsiril tbh. I think it makes her interesting and it's clear (to me at least) that she does her best to provide for her children even if she doesn't truly understands them. Even in that first interaction with Kabru where she's trying to hand feed him they were *already* training with swords beforehand.

Milsiril also talks to Kabru in a way that kinda seems to expect him to understand more than what a small child would like we can see in the AB extra

So her infantilization doesn't extend to underestimating him at least, rather I think that's how she shows affection (which is still bad 😭)

Anyway, about her trauma with the dungeon and guilt (or maybe shame? Fear?), I do think that was one of the motivations for her to take Kabru in as I said in this post (beware I am a Milsiril apologist and I am VERY biased in seeing her in a more positive light, doesn't mean it's true) but I think that side of her manifests in her sudden switches from crybaby mom to ruthless master

Milsiril is very emotionally unstable from what we can see, she's really trying to convince Kabru not to go into dungeons and when tears don't work she switches into training him so hard he'll give up on his own. I've seen people call this her "true colors" or say she was using "crocodile tears" but in my opnion both the tears and the threat are genuine, I don't think it's a planned switch but rather the fact she's unstable to begin with, both the crybaby mom and the scary swords master are her true self.

Anyway! I think both guilt and infantilization are intertwined in her love towards Kabru, I've said this before but she's a flawed caretaker in a world where she does not have the resources to become a better one. She's traumatized she's depressed and she's an elf, but she's the only one (that we know) willing to at least *try* to treat the people she cares for the correct way. If it wasn't for Milsiril Kabru would have been raised by elves like Rin was (and we know that went very bad, they traumatized her), and Mithrun might not have received the proper rehab he needed to go back into the canaries (He might have managed but we see Milsiril put in the effort to help him cope besides being the one to tell him about Utaya)

That is all to say: Milsiril is still flawed!! It's part of what I love about her, and it's the reason so many people dislike her too. I'm saying this cause sometimes when I go on my Milsiril rants I get asks putting down Kabru to raise her up and that's like, very uncomfortable lmao. Even if she did her best he still was the one that to deal with all of her shortfallings while being raised and he's still the one responsible for getting to where he is, she just made is easier than it could have been.

Disclaimer as is usual for my Milsiril posts: I'm a Milsiril fan, my interpretations of her are very charitable because I often see people being way too uncharitable about her. Please read the original material and make up your own interpretation, this posts only contain what I think it's relevant for my point not an objective view of the whole. I've also already made several posts about her and I don't want to keep repeating myself so if you think I glossed over something important that's probably why.

Edit: thinking more about it, maybe rather than feeling guilty herself she might blame "elves" as a whole for the failure in Utaya, it does say she left it "in disgust". It's not that clear how she feels about it.

I still think it's shared trauma though, I don't think it's possible for Milsiril to not have been affected by what happened there and I think it's part of why she doesn't want Kabru to go to dungeons again. But her way to cope is to turn away from it (and blaming "elves" might be part of how she copes) while Kabru's is to face it so it doesn't happen again

[jewell-tones]

Hi!!! I just saw ur post about one shot requests n I'd love to see a bit of Soda n Dallas antics!! Can be just them goofing around n getting up to trouble :D or a bit of light Curtis Brother angst or fluff!! (sorry if it's a bit too general!! lemme know if you would like more specifics!!)

Saddle Up, It’s Time to Cheer Up! (Pt.1)

𝐎𝐑- Even Dallas Winston is worried about a heart broken Sodapop Curtis.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐀/𝐍: Heyy guys!!! So fun fact this is the fic I’ve ever posted! I couldn’t really decide between the two options so I kinda opted for both! This is canon divergent, so Johnny and Dallas live. I’ll with start writing pt. 2 PRONTO!! Happy reading!!

————————————————————————

He’d never admit to it, but Dallas sure felt awful for poor old Sodapop.

The girl Soda worshiped and raved about had up and left him and didn’t even have the guts to tell him to his face. Not only that, but the broad had two-timed him and ended up pregnant. Though Dallas felt bad for him, he still thought this breakdown was Soda's own damn fault. The situation was completely avoidable, but he just got too enamored by these girls. Dal’s old girl Sylvia wasn’t anything other than a good time to him, so when she started cheating while he was in the cooler, he just up and left. No grief, no regrets, and definitely no tears. Dallas made sure not to get attached, because why would he? Those broads never stayed. Even if a relationship works out, it never ends well. It’s like getting a dog. You just get them to love, then wait for them to run away or die. Dallas knew that, he had always known that. Soda hadn’t. Curtis just loved until his little heart broke.

He was like a Prince Charming to these damn girls. Dinner, flowers, chocolate, the whole nine yards. Soda didn’t even expect anything in return because he just loved loving her. To him, being romantic was the reward in itself. He was willing to do anything. Hell, when Sandy had first told Soda that she was pregnant, he had offered to marry her and take care of the baby- even if it wasn’t his. He was willing to love her anyway. It made Dallas sick. If it had been him, he would have told the broad to go fuck herself and spit on her shoes. It was like Sodapop had no survival skills. It’s Eat or be eaten, and that boy was letting her eat him alive.

Ever since Sandy left, Soda was half the man he used to be. Soda was the guy who brightened up a room. He was handsome so every girl swooned to him and all the guys liked him. Curtis wasn’t like Dallas at all. He was warm and caring. He knew how to comfort people. Dallas never knew how to do that. It wasn’t in his nature to make someone feel better. He was uncomfortable around crying people and hated having to deal with it. But, soda wasn’t like that. He knew how to make someone’s day better. Maybe that’s why Dallas felt so bad. Soda was always helping and loving everyone else but nobody returned the favor. He was just a ball of sunshine, but not anymore. Now left was a pitiful boy who couldn’t stand to do anything. When the gang went out to cause some trouble, soda stayed behind. He didn’t like to party anymore, didn’t like to wrestle. All he did was work then go home and watch TV. His eyes were always red from crying and baggy from lack of sleep. To say the least, the whole gang was worried badly. Dallas had never seen him like this before, and it almost scared him. Sure he and Soda weren’t the closest in the gang, but that was still his buddy. But with his “emotional intelligence”, Dal thought of himself as no use.

What made things worse, Dallas thought, was that Steve was always hanging out with his girl Evie. It used to be that Sandy and Evie would hang out together with Soda and Steve. The four were together everywhere you went. But Sandy was gone now, and Steve and Evie were still a thing. Steve still invited Soda out while he was with Evie. So when Soda hung out with him, instead of forgetting about his loss, he was constantly reminded of it. He was like a third wheel that was heading straight off the road.

One night, the Curtis house was full, as per usual. Darry had cooked up a small meal that was good enough to fill up the stomach. Dal, Johnny, and Pony were all betting on cigarettes in a game of

Poker. Steve and Two-bit were arm wrestling in the living room. Soda was watching TV, with those lifeless eyes that hadn’t gone away in weeks. Sure he was smiling and talking to everyone as usual, but something behind those eyes gave the impression he was in pain.

“Goddamnit Dallas” sighed a frustrated Ponyboy, “this is the third time in a row you’ve won.” “I’ve got luck you’ve never seen kid” Dallas grinned as he pushed the pile of cancer sticks closer to him. “I think he’s cheating, what do you think Johnny?” Pony whispered over to the boy beside him. “I don’t know man, he is pretty lucky” answered a defeated Johnny. Dallas got up stuffing cigs in his pocket “Well I think I’m gonna go smoke some of my earnings” he boasted. In the living room, Steve and two’s competition had turned into them rolling around on the floor with Matthews in a chokehold. Steve finally let him go after it seemed that his face was going blue. “You win this time fucker” fumed the upset loser. “That’s right, I always win! I’m getting you next soda!” He exclaimed. Soda just lightly scoffed and didn’t say a word back, making Steve look back in disappointment. Dallas walked towards the door “Anyone else wanna smoke?” He questioned. “Sure I’ll go” Steve answered, “you wanna go soda?” He looked back at his friend “You haven’t moved off that couch in like an hour” he teased, getting up to hit his friend's shoulder. Soda gave a small grin and scratched his chin “No, I’m good. The shows just getting interesting”. Steve just stared then walked towards the door “Well I tried” he shrugged and continued out the door with Dallas.

The two boys went outside on the front porch. Dallas handed Randle a stick and got out a lighter sparking his own then Steve’s. The younger boy sat down the porch stairs and exhaled the smoke. Dallas took a draw from his own and leaned against the framing. “ I didn’t think you smoked a whole lot Randle” he questioned. “ I don’t, I just… well I don’t know man, I needed one” he took another long hard draw and sighed. “ I just don’t understand” he shook his head “I’ve tried to help him, I’ve really tried. Soda just won’t get out of this funk” he looked back a Dallas. “It’s like no matter what you do, he just won’t take it. It’s like he wants to be miserable!” He confided, “ I just don’t know what to do anymore”. Dallas looked at Steve slightly surprised. He guessed that he hadn’t thought about how frustrating this must be for Steve. To see your best friend self loathe over a girl who didn’t care for him like he cared for her. To never wanna hang out no matter how hard you try. “I know man, he needs to get on his feet” Dally commented. “I mean the last time I saw him this upset was when he lost Mickey” Steve added. Dallas raised his eyebrows in agreement. He had forgotten about that. God he loved that stupid horse, he thought. You would’ve thought someone had died when they sold that thing. He’d never seen a kid so upset. That was something else Soda had loved as much as he could, horses. He was a good rider. He used to ride them in rodeos until Darry made him stop. Ever since Dal had started being a jockey at the horse tracks, he had begged Winston to let him see their horses. He and Steve would come to see the races to supposedly watch Dallas ride, but he was sure it was just so Soda could see the horses. His eyes would light up when he saw them, like a kid seeing Santa Claus in the mall. He always asked Dallas to let him see them up close in the stables, but Dal didn’t want to get in trouble with Track for bringing someone back there, so he always declined. Man did he love horses. He looked at Steve and tossed his cigarette on the ground to put it out, “Yeah I don’t know what I’d do if was you”

But then he thought of it. He thought of exactly what he’d do.

For once in his life, Dallas Winston knew how to cheer someone up.

[kitalphahart]

Stardew Bachelor/ette headcanons

Some may actually be canon? Or quasi-canon. Keep in mind that my character is like me in the aspect of not choosing any of them to marry. I might do Krobus as a roommate, but that's about it

Leah: was the newest arrival until the farmer showed up. Wasn't looking for a relationship after the whole fiasco with Kel, and generally keeps to herself. Is somewhat closr to Robin due to both working with wood, albeit in different ways, and Elliot for being the only other person in the town who doesn't have a connection to someone who is or was part of it. As a result, she's a stranger to lost the townsfolk

Maru: would be an anxious wreck if she weren't medicated. Tried to get close to her half-brother all the time as a kid, but slowly stopped as he kept pushing her away. She does wish they could connect, though she doesn't know how or where to start. She enjoys working with Harvey, but outside work she can't really stand him. Would call him a weenie if she used that sort of language

Haley: is materialistic because that's how her parents spoiled her to hide their not-that-great parenting. Secretly she wishes she wasn't like that, but feels she can't truly change it. Besides, she occasionally gets pretty clothes from her parents and she can't not wear them, even if only once. Even if they are the wrong size, which they usually are. Got into photography due to her sister gifting her a cheap Polaroid camera

Emily: is into mysticism out of spite against her parents. Makes her own clothes out of spite as well. She hates her parents, but would never say so. Sandy is an ex, the two realized they are better as friends than dating, which is why they're still on good terms. Some people don't believe they broke up, and if the Farmer marries her, Sandy makes them a throuple. She doesn't like Clint but gets the feeling that if she rejects him he'll go psycho stalker

Abigail: is actually really good at using a sword. Marlon has given her lessons in secret, and sees her as an excellent apprentice. If only her father wasn't such a--. Forced by her mother to take flute lessons at first, but ended up enjoying them. If she crosses paths with the Farmer heading to the mines, she wants to join. Even if the monsters do scare her. Once she dyed her hair purple, not only did it not fade, nothing else sticks. Even stripping the color has it come back the next morning

Penny: wants a large family with someone loyal to her so she can raise her kids right, not the way she was raised. An excellent teacher for young kids, the main thing holding her back from being properly educated and certified to teach is her mother's drinking habits. She wishes she lived somewhere she could feel pride, but instead has the short stick and has to make do. She took up reading to get away from her negligent father and later abusive mother. Educating others was the next step in her mind, and she's doing what she can with what she has. The war doesn't make getting new textbooks easy, however

Sam: does not know how to act now that his dad is back. He's been Man of the House for so long, and now he's not. Focused on making a band and his guitar to compensate. Is actually good at composing music, but his aimless wandering for band type and music keeps him from getting anywhere. He ends up making music for kid's shows because he gets some variety, at least. Is aware that Vincent looks up to him and tries to be a good role model. Barring the skateboarding. He's toned it down a lot since his brother was born, but he's not above stunts

Sebastian: pushed his half-sister away first out of anger that him mom remarried, then because she's a girl and cooties, and now doesn't know how to fix the rift. Has depression, but it shows as isolation. He's seen how Shane gets and does not want to be like that. Better to stay in his room all day. A natural night owl, he chafes at daytime hours. His mom doesn't understand, and his step-father certainly won't. Speaking of, the two only interact as necessary. Sebby does not like him, and made it clear as a kid, pushing him away like he did Maru. This rift he feels is far too late to fix, and doesn't care (he claims) to fix it

Elliott: he has fallen for Leah, but won't admit it. Not after hearing about her ex and how they affected her. While he loves the idea of being the knight in shining armor rescuing her, he's too shy to do so. Even so, he is striking up a friendship with her because her sculptures are beautiful to him, and give him ideas for his novel. He does wish he could buy one, though. Or be gifted one. Is close to Willy as well. Proximity helps, but he's also fascinated by the stories the fisher has to tell. Even if some have been repeated and exaggerated over retellings

Harvey: actually had a hard time keeping up with a lot of stuff in his clinic until he hired Maru. He knows she's the reason the place stays afloat, and does all he can to keep her. In a professional manner, he loves her. In a personal manner, he has respect for her, but does not see her as a potential romantic interest. Has a late girlfriend who died from an incurable disease back in high school, motivating him to become a doctor after his fear of heights and bad eyes kept him from aviation. He won't ever admit it, but he's happy where he's at. Even if his diet is shit. Takes pride in his 'stashe

Shane: despite being Jas' godfather, he forgets about her a lot, especially when drunk. Losing his friends aka her parents, an injury keeping him from remaining in sports, and losing his dreams turned him to drinking to cope, and now he's in a rut he can't get out of. Not without help, anyway. Marnie is worried about him, and also concerned as to how he got her white and brown chickens to start popping out blue ones. What's next, pink chickens??? Constantly has stubble because the doesn't remember to shave. Or he does but since he uses an electric razor, forgets to plug it in, turn it on, or otherwise have it operate

Alex: knows he washed up, won't admit to it. His primary reason for not actually going pro and only bragging about it is because he doesn't want to leave his grandparents behind to find for themselves. He misses his mother every day, though he believes he cannot admit to it. He is a man, after all. Men don't miss people. Or cry. Under his manly man persona is a sensitive man, in touch with his emotions, but he doesn't want to admit that

Krobus: learned to talk from Gil after being found as an orphaned shadow beast. While he's reconnected to his people, he still feels different from them, having been raised by a human. He got his name after his kin discovered his upbringing, hoping that he can bring peace to their kind, as not all shadow beasts are monsters. Sadly, too many are interested in fighting to make things work

[someone-will-remember-us]

It would have been easier for Caroline Darian if her father, Dominique Pelicot, were an unremitting bastard: an absent or distant dad, a man who battered her mother, took no interest in his kids or just soured every family occasion. Then the daughter of France’s most notorious mass rapist could consign him to Hell without a backward glance.

But for both Darian and — it would seem from this account — her mother, Gisèle, it is the ambiguities that magnify their pain. This slim book comprises the diary that Darian, now 45, kept in the weeks after the police revealed that Pelicot had been drugging Gisèle and pimping her out to strangers for ten years. Yet amid her revulsion at his limitless depravity are sweet reveries. There is her father taking her to dance classes; urging her to the summit as they cycle mountain roads in Provence; putting Barry White on the car stereo as she and her brothers cram on the back seat for family holidays; singing beautifully at her wedding and making the perfect speech at Gisèle’s 50th birthday, calling her “my one, my all”.

After their father’s crimes were revealed, Darian and her brothers, David and Florian, packed up the rented house in Mazan, where their parents retired and the rapists came, in just two days. Everything was jettisoned: furniture, photographs and her father’s paintings, including a female nude entitled Under My Thumb, which Darian personally destroyed. Gisèle left for a new life with just two suitcases and her dog.

Harder to discard are the idyllic summers, Pelicot teaching his grandson to swim, and drinks and board games on the terrace. When you discover your father drugged and photographed you naked and may have raped you too (which he has always denied), where do you file the innocent memories?

This quandary divides Caroline and her mother. Darian describes Gisèle as a “medieval queen” whose “innate elegance extends even to refusing to say a bad word about our father”. Gisèle, who lost her own mother aged nine, maintains an outer serenity. Darian, who is more visceral and volatile, collapsed after the news and was admitted briefly to a mental ward. She was aghast when her mother fretted that her father would be cold in prison, and took him a bag of warm clothes, or when she declared: “I want to remember the good times.” Gisèle was trying to reconcile two warring thoughts: that her husband is a monster and that she once loved him deeply. Otherwise, one supposes, she would have to junk her entire life.

Pelicot’s crimes hit his family like a cluster bomb, a central explosion containing a multitude of smaller blasts. How can Darian tell her young son that the grandfather he texted before every football match is dead to him now? How will she forgive her mother for refusing to countenance — because the thought might have tipped Gisèle into insanity — that Pelicot raped her too?

All families are strange, but quirks read as normal when you’re a child. Now with open eyes Darian sees that her comfortable middle-class upbringing was a façade, that it was only her mother’s middle management job, which came with a five-bedroom company house near Paris, that kept them afloat. Her father, an electrician who dabbled in property, set up companies that always failed.

Papers her brothers discovered reveal that Pelicot defaulted on huge loans that he took out mainly in his wife’s name. Gisèle let him handle all admin, never wondering why he always rushed to gather up the post. Besides being raped 200 times by at least 73 men and left with four STDs, she faced bankruptcy too.

Darian sees what she missed as a girl: that this wasn’t a close marriage, but a coercive one, and her father manipulated Gisèle under the guise of loving protector. They all believed him during those ten years when her mother suffered blackouts and memory loss — a side-effect of the pills he fed her — that it was her grandchildren who had tired her out.

Now moments that seemed inconsequential loom large. Darian recalls her father angrily hauling her mother off her feet by her blouse, coming home from school aged 14 to find bailiffs had taken all their furniture including beloved heirlooms, and her father helping himself to cash she had made from summer jobs, saying it was his right.

Pelicot starts to come into focus: a grifter, an amoral chancer, someone who always had secrets. The most powerful memory Darian dredges up is of her mother’s old friend Pascale coming to the house to say that Pelicot had propositioned her. “Your husband isn’t the man you’ve always taken him to be,” she warned. Pelicot threatened to beat up Pascale, and Gisèle never spoke to her again.

Finally we learn the probable source of Pelicot’s character. His own father was a terrible man: a caretaker at a rehabilitation centre, he was a big, leather-jacketed bully, a lazy tyrant who took Dominique out of school at 13 to bring in a wage. Within weeks of his wife dying he made their foster daughter, who was 30 years his junior and had severe learning difficulties, his new spouse. Darian notes that this poor girl ripped out her own hair and needed permission to change the TV channel. There is a whiff of Fred West here, yet Darian’s parents sent her to stay with them every summer holiday until she was old enough to complain.

Darian has written this book to launch her campaign against “chemical submission”, the use of drugs within controlling relationships, which is seldom picked up by police. This account does not include the four-month trial that ended with 51 men including Pelicot convicted of rape. Nor does it mention Pelicot’s earlier crimes: an attempted rape in Paris in the 1990s that Pelicot has admitted to and a rape-murder he has denied, for which he will soon stand trial. “I’m convinced we still have more to discover about my father,” Darian says darkly, and the French police, who are checking his DNA against decades of cold cases, would agree.

But this book, although fragmentary and brief, is the story of how families can absorb horrible deeds and not merely function, but seem outwardly happy. Pelicot’s sons put up with him, although he was always cadging money after another failed scheme. His youngest child, Florian, still came to family parties after his girlfriend walked in on Pelicot in the daytime, his office door wide open, masturbating at his laptop. The last text Darian’s husband sent to Pelicot was a jolly message about the Tour de France. For the sake of family harmony, or for their mother, or because he could turn on the charm, they seem to have tolerated him as a bit of a rogue.

Yet all the while Pelicot was defiling everyone — his wife, his daughter, his sons’ wives (whom he filmed naked with spy cameras) — and violating everywhere they felt safe, raping Gisèle in her marital bed, at Darian’s home and at her beloved holiday cottage on the Île de Ré. And still three years ahead of them loomed the public ordeal of the trial, which Darian will cover in a future book. But what we have here is a primal scream of shock and disbelief. She may never call Dominique Pelicot “Dad” again, but the horror is that is who he remains.

(archive)

[wisegirl25]

A Guide To Revolution

It’s now or never (repost because you need this rn)

First things first, educate yourself. Read up on those who are currently in power, on similar historical events, leftist political ideologies, etc.

Make sure you find credible sources.

The next thing is to educate those around you, find your community, find other people who are willing to take action in the same way you are and radicalize the ones who aren't sure yet.

Remember, uneducated and ignorant is what they want you to be. Knowledge is power for a reason.

One of the biggest issues with starting revolution is that the masses don't know the power that we hold

Next, organize. Find your local punk scene, anarchists, environmentalists, they're often the first ones willing to take radical action. Start with smaller initiatives and expand from there. Get everyone you know involved

Remind them that this is about more than just them, this is about your future.

I'm not american, otherwise this is exactly what I would be doing, but I send you my support in the form of knowledge

Remember that you have a right to bear arms reason. The lack of gun control is a bad thing, but you can use it to your advantage.

Get connected locally and build mutual aid support networks. You do what you can. If you’re a doctor, provide people with medical help, a seamstress, fix people’s clothing for them, etc.

And if you need help, it goes both ways. Mutual aid.

Do not feed into the economy, help each other instead. Cut out all large corporations that aren’t absolutely necessary, find local alternatives.

You can't start a revolution unless you're educated, healthy, and willing to take risks.

Remember, for a revolution to be successful at least 3.5% of the population needs to be engaged in active resistance

Don’t be a narc. See someone stealing from a Walmart? Look the other way. Someone vandalizing a government building? Look the other way. Doing recreational drugs (safely)? Look the other way. Someone is undocumented? Look the other way.

Have solidarity with your fellow humans, it’s us vs the rich.

Mass civil disobedience can take many forms

Refusal to follow certain laws

Evading taxes entirely

Mass blockages of government buildings and facilities (can also take be storming and taking over)

And on the more extreme end, revolution often requires the assassination or detainment of prominent figures

They don't care about you, take your lives into your own hands

[sroloc--elbisivni]

apropos of specifics the thing I'm always prepared to rant about is that I almost never see eunuchs engaged with in fiction in a way that understands how the institution actually worked.* Varys in Game of Thrones is an example of the type, where eunuch characters are often evil and always singular, when the thing is that when eunuchs appeared historically they were as part of a class of eunuchs because pre-sterilization of surgical tools castration is not a procedure that is regularly survived unless it's being done at enough of a rate that someone has a regular job doing it. this is both 'accumulating enough experience to do it in a way that gives at LEAST a 50% survival rate' and 'having a high enough demand for it that there are enough boys being castrated to make 50% survival worth it.'

Eunuchs were in demand, is the thing--most of my reading has involved the Byzantine and Ottoman methods with a smattering of info on the outgrowth from this to castratti (which were an early modern to modern thing, the Catholic church's relationship to castration is fascinating considering that in a lot of ways the priesthood replaced the social and political functions filled by eunuchs elsewhere). there's a good (academic) book by Kathryn Ringrose on eunuchs and the Byzantine empire and it's titled 'The Perfect Servant' because that's what they were considered to be. Eunuchs were cut off from the fundamental old age support system of most of human history, ie having biological family, and they were physically marked as being close to systems of wealth and power, because there was a demand for them, because they were considered the ideal servant, because they had nowhere else to go--

I'm going in circles. let me start smaller.

you are a ten year old boy from a poor family. you are made subject to extremely personal and extremely painful violence. if you live through it--BIG if--you are physically marked as an outsider for the rest of your life. you cannot have a 'normal' life. you can be taken to an imperial court where you all of a sudden have access to centers of wealth and power in a way you never had before. because you are considered to be the tool of the state, completely loyal to the state, and therefore it is possible for you to rise to a level of power most ten year old boys from poor families will never know the existence of. and you will suffer specific health problems for the rest of your life, related to the torture you were subjected to as a ten your old.

the thing is, under the Ottomans and under most of the Byzantines, castration was not legal. and eunuchs still served in the imperial palace. and for more than half of those eighteen centuries of history, to be a eunuch was to be enslaved. and to be physically marked as being enslaved. there was a big legal reform under the Byzantines that dictated that any slave who was castrated was automatically freed (ONCE AGAIN, IF THEY LIVED CAVEAT) to try and disincentivize people from castrating boys. and YET. they still demanded them.

under the Ottomans it was illegal to enslave Muslims and it was illegal to castrate. so of course a business thrived right outside the borders of the empire (in what's now Southern Egypt and Northern Sudan in particular) kidnapping or purchasing boys, castrating them, and enslaving the survivors, often selling them directly to the imperial palace or other similarly high positions of wealth and status because they were the only places that could afford enslaved boys that had survived castration.

it was LUCRATIVE. we have records of families signing their own sons up for this because it was such a direct shortcut to wealth. and the other wack ass family dynamic that comes into it is that eunuchs were a huge part of the household of the imperial family. there's a bit of an orientalist fantasy about the 'eunuch guarding the harem' and the way it's presented implies that the castration was for the purpose of guarding the harem but that's backwards. you don't castrate guys to guard your harem you have the castrated guys guard your harem because they're already around.

and i say 'guys' but the thing that got me interested in eunuchs was actually a leapfrog from queer history because i ran across examples taken from the Acta Sanctorum of monks who had been assumed to be eunuchs who had been discovered on their death to have female anatomy. so we have evidence that people took advantage of this socially-understood role that was excluded from normal gender presentation to conceal or justify gender variant traits.

and i say excluded because it was violent! it was a denial of masculinity to people who otherwise would have participated in some form of it, but eunuchs were still understood to be, even if just grammatically, men! but in many crucial ways they also weren't and this is where I start to get incoherent and wave my hands about how the sex and gender binaries are constructed and enforced via forcible exclusion and the acknowledgement of other categories existing even as they are denied certain types of personhood and where people ask me what the point is and i just go 'i don't KNOW but don't you just want to THINK ABOUT IT????'

and for the most part no people don't want to think about it. eunuchs are wildly understudied in Anglophone scholarship, which kind of makes me froth at the mouth because the proximity of the institution of eunuchs to imperial power structures--byzantine, ottoman, chinese, mughal--means that we have so manyyyyyyyyy records. the thing traditional history studies have demanded. AND YET.

catches breath. anyway. the catholic church disapproved of castration for most of its history and you needed an exemption from the pope if you wanted to be a priest and you had to prove the castration wasn't your fault. physical perfection situation. and for all my curiosity about eunuchs and gnashing of teeth at the lack of research i have taken my own formal research in completely different directions. i will stop here because i have a normal amount of information and opinions about eunuchs and can be relied upon to discuss other things.

*the exception to most fictional depictions of eunuchs i've seen is Elizabeth Bear's Pillars of the Sky fantasy series where the order of wizards is made of eunuchs, male and female, and the eunuchdom is a prerequisite to doing magic. it's not at all historically accurate but god dammit it's INTERESTING and takes into account the class-of-persons thing.

come closer. i have a normal amount of information and opinions about eunuchs and can be relied upon to discuss other things.

[sysig]

Special Counseling (Patreon)

[andromedasummer]

i ended up having a like. 30 minute conversation with some of those "freedom convoy" people. was at the bus stop. they were wearing trump hats. i ended up roped into the conversation because i was so taken aback at seeing one in public i was just. staring at it. ive never felt more depressed about someone elses life and beliefs than when i talked to them.

[sylhea-raemi]

Airi playing an important role in the story but also the fact that she's the only proof of oda kazuha and saito tooru's existance on earth is wow

[titsthedamnseason]

this is the first time since the announcement that this thought is even occurring to me and i already don’t even know if i like it but should kbr just have kept going with the like us series?

[celestialmancer]

⛈️ //

[6toru]

𝑾𝑯𝒀 𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑨 𝑻𝑶𝒀 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬? — gojo satoru.

imagine gojo fucking you with the dildo you bought to prepare yourself for his big dick 🧎‍♀️

cw. 18+ content mdni, dildo fucking & explicit language | wc. 2.2k

author's note. another one of my works from my previous blog ! happy reading <3

The first time you stumbled across 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 freshly out of the shower, all naked and bare, the first thing your eyes caught sight of was that obscene baguette of a cock hanging between his legs. By then, you were convinced that he wasn't going to fit – at least, not easily. Your thesis was later proven to be correct when you had your first time with the ivory-haired male; tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you cried out in sheer pain. Of course, your boyfriend stopped his actions, making it his top priority to ensure your comfort and wellbeing. Since then, he didn't make any more advances – offering only his mouth and fingers for your pleasure, despite your many pleas telling him that you're ready.

It had been nearly a month now, and you had finally taken matters into your own hands. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. While Satoru was off on a mission, you stared intently at the laptop screen, scrolling through the myriad of sex toys that are put on sale. What better way is there to stop your lovely boyfriend from holding himself back any longer than to buy a dildo to prepare yourself for him? Undeniably the mere image of his twitching cock being held down by the confines of his boxers and trousers made your mouth water. Eventually, after a couple minutes, you click on checkout.

It’s the next day, and your boyfriend is still away for a mission, and you find yourself staring at the box sitting in front of your door in surprise — honestly, you had expected it to come in a week. But then again, you’re back to business. Rushing back inside your abode, you plop the box down onto the kitchen table, tearing the cardboard with a scissor in nimble movements. Lo and behold, the extra large rainbow dildo rests upon the palms of your hands.

Blushing, you stare down at the lewd toy and you gulp.

You plop yourself back onto the comfort of your soft mattress; the freshly washed dildo and the small bottle of lube splayed out across the bed. at this point, you were already bare – your bra being the only garment left on your body. Leaning back on the mattress, your back makes contact with the soft and gentle plush of your pillow. You stretch your legs wide open and lick a thin stripe of saliva against your finger, rubbing it against your folds. A hitched breath escapes from your lips as you align the tip of the dildo with your aching hole. God, you desperately wish it's your boyfriend instead.

All you can think about is Satoru; his body above yours, his eyes staring lovingly into yours as his soft lips graze against your own. You shut your eyes closed, softly biting onto your lip as you press the large tip against your entrance —

“Guess who’s home~” The door suddenly opens and in barges your boyfriend, and as if the angels had sent him a message because of how much you have missed him, he finally returns from his week long mission. However within seconds, you both jumped in surprise — despite wearing his blindfold, you could tell by the way his mouth was agape that his eyes were ogling at the sight of a dildo pressed against your slick cunt. “Rainbow?”

As an immediate response, you cross your legs together and tossed the toy to the side; feeling an intense wave of embarrassment wash over your whole entire body. You want to evaporate, you really do. Your face feels undeniably warm, looking at your boyfriend bashfully. “Welcome home, ‘Toru.”

Without any words, Satoru makes long strides to the bed and he presses his lips onto yours, almost greedily; his fingers trails to the back of your head, cupping it as he kisses you deeper. Shortly after, he pulls away from your lips, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips together. you can only look at him, both aroused and embarrassed.

“Were you planning on surprising me with this, my love?” Your boyfriend questions you, tearing the black fabric off his face; revealing his cerulean eyes blown out in arousal. You can barely utter a response, the embarrassment is simply too much for you to bear.

“Can't say that i'm too happy about this, though. Seein' you use a plastic dick instead of my own is making me a lil' jealous, y'know?”

You press a soft kiss against his cheek, looking at the male bashfully, “I'm sorry baby, i just wanted to prepare myself so I can take you better. That’s all.”

As if your words have ignited some sort of flame within him, all signs of fatigue from his mission has evaporated and he pulls you in for another heated kiss. “You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he says in between kisses, “you know that?”

You’re unable to reply, your brain already feeling mushed from the way his lips mold so nicely against yours and his hands brushing against your thighs. You can only hum against his lips, though you’re barely keeping track of what he’s saying. But when you see his hand travel towards the toy, you felt your cheeks heat up even more when he decides to lube it once more upon inspecting it.

“Out of everything, why rainbow?”

“it’s the closest thing to your size,” you reply, your voice soft yet it’s dripping in arousal. “I didn’t want you to keep holding back for my sake.”

Satoru glanced down at the toy and right back at you, grinning cockily. “Cute. I hope you know that this is still pretty small compared to my dick.”

he leans to your ear, playfully slapping the toy against your pussy. “Say, baby. Do you mind if I help you prepare?”

Fuck. How can you say no to that? You nod your head eagerly towards your boyfriend, unable to control your desperation and arousal. Your gaze trails down towards Satoru’s trousers and you could immediately feel your mouth water — the sight of his fat cock restrained by the confines of the tight fabric is a sight you’ve definitely missed seeing.

You softly gasp at the sudden, cool sensation of the lube being sprayed onto your folds and then your eyes rolling back shortly after when he sticks his long and thick finger inside your heat — effortlessly kissing your g-spot with the tips of his thick fingers before pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you.

“you’re already squeezing so tightly around my finger,” Satoru comments, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How are you going to take this dildo, let alone my dick, inside you?”

“I…” you try to find the words to speak, but a shocked squeak merely escaped your throat when he squirted a little bit of lube onto your juicy cunt; the cool liquid making your body jump slightly. Satoru chuckles softly at your reaction, leaning into your face to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “Sorry, hehe, you’re too cute I couldn’t help myself.”

He slides the tip of the dildo along your folds; starting from your clit to down your hole, pushing the tip ever so slightly to elicit a reaction out of you. You shiver slightly at the sensation, thrusting your hips softly against the plastic toy. There's no denying that you feel embarrassment washing over your entire being, yet there's also something awfully arousing about being at his complete submission.

“Try to relax yourself, 'kay baby?” You can hear Satoru's low voice ringing in your ears, dripping in complete arousal. You hum in response, eagerly nodding your head as you await his actions with your lips bitten in anticipation.

“Imagine that it’s my cock fucking you,” satoru says, chuckling deeply, “nice and deep.”

The moment he inserts the tip inside you, your toes immediately curl — your arms scrambling to find solace in his broad and brawny shoulders; your body writhing beneath his as he pushes the toy even deeper, deliciously stretching your velvety walls with his slow movements.

“Shit,” The ivory-haired male lets out a needy groan, his cerulean gaze locked onto your pussy; taking in the pornographic sight of your folds sucking the toy back in each time he pulls away — he’s unable to look away; he wants to see more.

“Baby, you think you take it even deeper?”

The sultry tone in Satoru’s voice sends immediate shocks of arousal straight to your heat, arching your back in delight when he presses his palm against the end of the dildo — pushing it deeper. He grins almost maniacally, relishing in the way you whimper so desperately for him; begging him to use his dick in lieu of a plastic toy.

“S-Satoru… please — I wan’ your cock so badly… Mmh—Oh!”

A loud mewl rips from your throat, your eyes widening as he slams the toy all the way; the head of the rainbow plastic cock planting a kiss on your cervix. You dig your nails deeper into his skin, your lips latching onto his shoulder to mask the desperate moans that threaten to escape your lips. Satoru licks his lips, his jaw clenching at your cute reactions.

He’s tempted, and that's an understatement — he's beyond horny and desperate, yet there's an inkling of curiosity egging him on; wanting to see how you'd react if it was his fat cock instead. He brushes a finger on your face, bringing a strand of hair behind your ear; leaving whispers of praise. After all, you’re taking the dildo so fucking well. He watches, amused, as he pulls the toy back – his eyes glued onto your slick juices coating the ridges before he slams in back inside, laughing almost sadistically when you let out a cry.

It isn't long before he increases his speed, his lips whispering sweet nothings in your ears as he relentlessly fucks the dildo inside your wall, and t's taking everything within him to ignore the ache dwelling in his pants – twitching within the confines of his boxers as he continues to pleasure you.

"F-fuck! 'Toru–mm! Please, baby, I-I'm so fuckin' close please I want your dick so badly – I p-promise i can take it now – Ah!"

Jaws slacked and eyes blown out in lust, he stares keenly at the juices trickling down your gaping hole; your thighs trembling and jumping each and every time he slams the rainbow toy inside you.

"Is that right?" Satoru grunts, licking his lips. He increases the fervour with his thrusts, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he imagines that it's his own cock going in and out of you.

"You're doing so fuckin' good, baby – takin' that toy like a fuckin' champ, yeah? I'll give you my dick right after this. You just have to cum good for me, 'kay?"

His groans comes in tandem with your lewd moans as nears you to your release. He truly revels the way your hips rock frantically against his hands, moaning desperately against his shoulder before you tense on the spot – your juices spraying all over his hand, dampening the bedsheets and a loud cry of his name leaves your trembling lips.

"Mmm... shit." Satoru sighs, staring down at you as he unbuckles his belt with ease, and your eyes snap over to his boxers; your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the humongous bulge as well as the pre-cum that dampened the grey fabric. A delicious sight. He slips out of the garment, almost teasingly and he laughs at the wanton look plastered across your face.

In languid movements, he rubs his giant dick in front of you; relishing in the sight of desperation that is plastered across your face while he teases you. "You've been so hungry for my cock, yeah? You're such a dirty, dirty girl."

"Please, 'Toru." you whimper, you can feel the tears of frustration slowly building up in your eyes. God, you want him so bad. Eventually, he returns to you; reconnecting his lips with yours in an arduous kiss. He leans you back to the mattress, his lips never once leaving yours as he unclasps your bra with one hand in ease. You gasp when you feel his hands immediately grasping at your soft mounds; his fingers rubbing, pulling and twisting at the erect buds.

When you pull away, a thin string of saliva is what was left that connected your lips together and you stare longingly at him through bated breaths — your breathing has gone even faster; your heart pounding against your chest as you watch Satoru align his cock to your needy cunt. It's going to happen now, you thought to yourself, biting your lips.

"Hey, baby. you think you can cum like that again?" He asks as he rubs his fat cock against your drenched folds, eliciting a sweet and needy moan from your lips.

Satoru has long lost his grasp on the remaining control he had on himself. There's a carnal look in his eyes, yet it only makes you all the more excited.

"I want you to cum like that on my dick this time, baby. You think you can give it to me?"

© 6TORU — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.