#does this make it obvious I am mentally unwell?

[simones-bluelily]

I think we’re gonna have to kill this guy Leo :(

I used a lot of references. Who’d of thought it was so hard to draw sonics quills? This was the first time I drew Sonic seriously 🥲

[unheavenlyvision]

NEW JOB

pairing: gojo satoru/reader

wc: 7.1k

summary: starting a new job is always hard, especially when you're tasked with a glorified babysitting role for the most powerful sorcerer and his antics, but what happens when you somehow find yourself growing oddly attached to his weird behaviours and teasing nature

a/n; i am obsessing over this 2d man and i cannot be stopped, come near me and i'm infecting you with thoughts of him. anyways! new blog so i can write for jjk hehehhohoh (i wrote this in a single sitting because i'm mentally unwell)

warnings: 18+ only, smut, making out, dry humping, hickeys, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, big dick gojo (duh), creampie, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, nicknames

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Why you were here, you had no clue… well you did, you just wish you didn’t have to be here but being forced to do this was putting it lightly. It’s frustrating because they act like you don’t have your own jobs to handle but now you’re being forced to be Gojo Satoru’s handler as well. This is going to be a much more taxing job than exorcising any curse, why he insisted on pissing off the higher ups is beyond you. Not that you’re completely innocent in those regards, mind you.

You’re sat waiting in Yaga’s office, waiting for a certain someone who treats showing up on time as optional. Looking at the clock behind Yaga, you see it’s bordering on 15 minutes since he was supposed to be here.

You deflate slightly with your quiet sigh, “Do I really need to be h–”

“–Yes,” is the only reply you get out of the man in front of you, eyes unreadable but based on the aura of the room, he’s beyond pissed.

Sinking further into your seat, you murmur about how annoying all of this is, it’s meant for Yaga to hear but he ignores you. Seeing Gojo is going to take years off your life, you’ve crossed paths with him many times in the past few years, he has a bad habit of interrupting your exorcisms, finishing them, and then getting on your nerves.

The door behind you slides open and shut loudly, making your heart lurch inside your chest, while you outwardly fight the urge to flinch. Gojo moves in behind you and leans down, “Didn’t scare you, did I?” There’s an annoying mirth in his tone as he carelessly rounds the seat and sits far too close to you.  

You don’t spare him a glance, “No.”

He smiles at you knowingly but says nothing more, finally addressing Yaga, “What’s up?”

“You’re late,” Yaga takes in a deep breath, fighting the urge to yell at him.

Gojo’s smile grows, his words picked carefully to piss the pair of you off more, “Well, I know that part, I meant why am I being summoned here.”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Why is he only being informed of this now?” You ask, irritated with not only Gojo but the whole damn system. You were told nearly two weeks ago that this was happening, how hadn’t he been told until now.

Yaga looks at you like it should be fairly obvious why they waited and you guess it is, he’s blind-sided this way, he doesn’t have a chance to wriggle out of it when today is the official first day of your new job babysitting Gojo Satoru and his first-year students. Oh, this is just perfect for you and not foreboding at all.

Before you have a chance to speak again, Yaga says, almost like he’s delighting in how inconveniencing this will be for Gojo, that, “You now have a teaching assistant, Gojo. You will be monitored as well as your students and everything will be reported back to me.”

“Ah, a glorified babysitter, how lovely,” Gojo’s smile doesn’t drop but it does look more strained.

Yaga doesn’t take kindly to his tone, “Watch it, this is fully deserved and you know it.”

“I’ve done nothing,” he defends himself.

You scoff slightly at that and Gojo side eyes you, you make an active effort to avoid his gaze though and instead focus on what Yaga is saying, “After that stunt you pulled with faking Itadori’s death recently, you’re lucky to be getting off so easy.”

Gojo jabs his thumb in your direction, “So what’s her punishment for then?”

You finally look at him, “Excuse me?”

“Well, I don’t imagine this is something one signs up for, so what did you do to piss off the higher ups,” his smile is teasing and so is his tone.

You squint at his stupid blindfold before looking back at Yaga, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Yaga coughs at your statement but doesn’t let Gojo’s endless amusement at your suffering continue, “What may or may not have happened is none of your business Gojo–”

“–Ah, so something did happen then,” he elbows at your shoulder and you grumble at him.

Yaga completely ignores Gojo’s antics, “Your only concern is to be accommodating and keep her in the loop.”

He waves a hand easily, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he brushes off the conversation with a sceptical nonchalance. His palms hit his knees as he pulls himself off the seat, “Is that all?”

Yaga pauses, watching him carefully for a moment before acquiescing, “Yes, that’s all, get out.”

“Come on, troublemaker, you have three adorable first years to meet!” his tone is too chipper and you don’t take kindly to his nickname for you but you stand from the seat and bow at Yaga before following behind him.

⸝⸝⸝

You are… uncomfortable, to say the least. The three first years sit in front of you, confused and waiting for some kind of explanation but Gojo just leans against the lectern, amused smile plastered on his face. You’re nervous, children can be so… scary, they were scary when you were their age and now you’re getting stage fright, in front of three people.

Gojo giggles behind you, granting some mercy… his version of mercy anyways, “We have a new addition to the class!”

“She’s… a student?” The one you recognise as Itadori tilts his head in question.

You can hear the glee drip from Gojo’s voice, “Well in some ways–”

“–No.” You cut him off abruptly, “I am… uhm, a teaching assistant… of sorts…”

The girl, very clearly unamused, questions further, “And what are you gonna be doing?”

You freeze up, you do know what you’re meant to be doing but you’re getting shy, you’ve never been good at being put on the spot.

Gojo finally moves from behind the lectern and places a hand on your shoulder, “She’s basically… my babysitter!” He announces, large smile on his face.

The students look… completely not shocked, like they expected something like this to happen at some point.

“I am here to help though! So, if you have questions or want someone to spar against or if Gojo is unavailable and you need help on a mission, I am here to be of service,” you smile lightly, trying to be kind. If you’re going to be here, you want to be of some use.

Itadori nods in thought, “So, are you strong?”

You feel warm in the face at the question, it’s not something you’ve ever been asked really. You think you are, you’re definitely capable but you’re nowhere near Gojo.

While deep in thought, Gojo replies for you, “Yes.” His reply is simple and leaves them all with more questions.

You throw a glance at Gojo before answering for yourself, “I am capable and willing to help.”

⸝⸝⸝

Your first introductions went better than you expected, you quite like them all, even the quiet one who’s always in a bad mood. Things would’ve gone better if Gojo didn’t delight in teasing you in front of them all, it’s embarrassing to be poked and prodded at for some kind of a reaction, you mean, isn’t he meant to be an adult for crying out loud.

It’s only been about a week and a bit into you ‘babysitting’ Gojo and you think he might be attempting to annoying you into quitting but that isn’t an option for you. The kids are sparring on the open field and Gojo is at your side, poking the side of your face with a mischievous smirk plastered on his. He’s been trying and failing to get a reaction out of you for the past 10 minutes.

“Gojo, is there something you want from me, or are you just waiting for me to try and smack you,” Turning your body, you face him completely, your hands on your hips.

He shoves his hand behind his back quickly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just poking your cheek, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sighing you continue, “If you’re trying to annoy me into quitting, you’re going to find that awful difficult, I have to be here.”

“Quite the contrary, I like having you here, troublemaker,” he smiles, leaning against the tree behind him.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you grit out.

He hums lightly, “That’s just cause you’re not used to my love language.”

Raising a brow at him, you ask, “Your love language is being absurdly annoying?”

“Now you’re getting it,” he pokes you directly on your nose and you exhale sharply, twisting your lips to hide any hint of amusement. Turning back to the students you resume ignoring him, which he huffs dejectedly at, “If you’re gonna be watching over me for a while, you may as well get used to talking to me, I think I’m quite enjoyable.”

“Of course you would think that,” you retort.

“Ouch,” he grabs his chest, pretending to be wounded, he pushes off the tree and hangs an arm over both your shoulders, his weight pressing into you, “So… seriously, what did you do?” His head is turned to the side of yours, watching for your reactions.

You’re starting to feel uncomfortable at his proximity but apparently so are the others because Kugisaki turns and points at Gojo, yelling, “Don’t hang off her like that, perv!”

You stifle a laugh at her accusation, as Fushiguro rolls his eyes and grimaces.

Gojo calls out, “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” He wraps both his arms around you and pokes his tongue out at them all.

You’re squished against him and it’s making you hot, “Gojo, if you don’t peel yourself off of me in the next few seconds I’m going to rip out your tongue.”

“I don’t think you would be able to, is the thing though,” he snickers down at you, he does release you though, taking a step back.

You feel beyond annoyed and as much as you know your fist won’t connect, you go to throw a powerful punch at him anyways. It predictably gets stopped by his infinity, never even making it close to his face.

“Oh wow, you tried to punch me!” He exclaims in faux hurt, his hand reaches up to yours and unfurls your fist, instead interlacing your fingers, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack and try and hit me.”

You sigh in defeat, “Gojo, please let go of my hand.”

“Tell me what you did and I just might,” he propositions.

The kids are yelling at Gojo from the field, cursing him out for being weird, which of course, he only finds hilarious.

“Gojo,” he hums at you in acknowledgement, “Do you think if I tried really hard, and willed it to happen, that me kicking you in the balls would connect?”

He pouts at your words, apparently holding out for a different response, “Oh, how you wound me.” He drops your hand with a sigh, “Can’t be that bad, tell meeeee,” he whinges slightly, attempting a new way of annoying you, clearly.

“You’re right, it’s not that bad, but it’s way more fun not to tell you at this point,” you smile brightly at him and his eyes widen in slight shock at the display.

He continues pouting, “Cruel…”

You just shrug at him in response.

⸝⸝⸝

Every time Gojo is around, he is trying to get you to tell him why you were assigned to be his handler. You don’t tell him, you just shrug or smile like you have no idea why, you understand why he likes to tease a bit now, seeing him so upset over something so small does brighten your day just a little bit.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown fond of his company, as well as the three kids. You thought this would be more hellish, and while on some occasions it is, you quite enjoy your day to days now. Filled with his teasing tone and stupid smile, you’re feeling comfortable with them all.

Your only complaint is that, while this is what you’re expected to be doing most of the time, the fact that sorcerers are hard to come by hangs true and you are still sent on solo missions on a whim. It’s only annoying because you’re expected to come and go easily, like fighting off first-grade or high-grade curses isn’t completely taxing.

Today you enter the classroom slightly later than usual, having been absent since the middle of yesterday, you didn’t even have time to sleep, you showered and came straight here. You mumble an offhanded good morning before collapsing into a chair in the corner of the front of the class.

“Look who decided to show back up,” Gojo chirps.

“Mmm, too loud… too much… so early,” you grumble back.

Itadori asks what no one else does, “Where did you go?”

You sigh into the air, “Ah, I had a job, it’s fine though, here now,” you smile lazily.

Gojo scrutinises you from behind his blindfold, he can tell you’re tired, hell, everyone could tell you’re tired. Your head is barely staying up, almost lolling to the side, looking for somewhere to rest so you can sleep.

“Maybe you should go home,” he comments, uncharacteristically serious.

You peek an eye open at him, they had fallen closed, when did they close? “Can’t.” you mutter out, “I’m needed here, so you don’t do anything stupid.”

“You aren’t going to be able to stop me if you’re asleep,” he retorts.

“No but it won’t look as bad if I am at least here,” you cover your mouth as you yawn.

He moves over to your corner and bends down, “If I promise to behave will you go home?”

“Probably not,” you smirk up at him, “I don’t think I’d believe you.”

Kugisaki groans, “Flirt on your own time!”

You bark a laugh at that, the back and forth you have with Gojo is not how you flirt and you imagine it’s not how he does either, “Yeah, Gojo. Go away.” You say, playing into it.

His smile is light as he turns away from you, “Fine but if you complain about a backache later from sleeping in that chair it’s not my fault.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep,” you counter.

⸝⸝⸝

You fell asleep.

You don’t know when exactly it happened, you just know it did… and that you’re embarrassed. When you startle awake in your seat, you can hear the distant noises of the students sparring and the breeze flowing through the – previously – closed windows.

“Hey, you’re up,” Gojo notices from his spot, lazing in the students desks.

You sit up a bit more, “How long–”

“–How long were you asleep?” He finishes for you, “A couple hours.”

“Why are you in here?” You ask, “Why aren’t you with the first-years?”

“The first-years are sparring with the second-years, they’re fine,” he too, sits up more, “I stayed cause I didn’t wanna leave you alone in here.”

You raise a brow at him, “That or you just didn’t wanna actually do your job today.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs easily.

“Mhm, thought so,” standing up completely, you stretch out your limbs, joints aching from sleeping in the chair.

“I didn’t think you would also be doing solo missions while being here,” he comments from behind you.

“Well… you know how shorthanded we are,” you walk over to where he’s sitting, “Plus, me being here is almost as much as a punishment for me as it is for you,” you remind.

“That’s funny, I wouldn’t say I feel punished,” he says it like it means nothing, like his feelings aren’t lingering right under the surface.

Thinking on it, you agree, “I don’t much either, I’ve been having quite a bit of fun actually,” you laugh lightly.

Gojo’s world stands still for a moment, he’s been growing addicted to how you smile, the sound of your laugh. He’s lucky for the blindfold because nearly every time he looks at you he has hearts in his eyes.

Noticing his silent staring, you grow shy, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry for falling asleep, it won’t happen again.”

He recovers quickly, “No it won’t… because next time, you’re going to go home to sleep properly before showing back up here.”

“Whatever you say, Gojo,” you play it off, not taking him seriously.

“Call me Satoru.”

You’re a little shocked, feeling like you misheard him, you clarify, “I’m sorry, what?”

He gets up from where he’s sitting, “We’ve known each other for years now, call me Satoru.”

You don’t know if you should, it feels weird, like letting him into your life more than he already is and that’s a little much for post nap you, “Maybe…”

He chuckles, “Don’t force yourself, just know, you can if you want to…”

You nod at him, suddenly feeling incredibly bashful.

⸝⸝⸝

You’re cleaning… why are you cleaning? Because you somehow got conned into having Gojo over. Its honestly impressive of him, you have no idea how he convinced you to let him into your home. You barely can even recall the conversation, something about movies, he’s somehow got your favourite movie before the DVD or streaming release.

Anyways, now you’re scrabbling around your meagre apartment, attempting to clean it up to a high standard before you have a guest over. You have time, you have enough time to clean the main areas, yourself, your bedroom… wait, your bedroom (?). Brushing off the thought, you continue your tirade, it ends with just enough time for you to make yourself look presentable.

Knocks in the form of a carefree tune are thumped into your door and you know who it is instantly, even his knocking is distinctly him. Tugging your shirt on, you call out, “Just a sec!”

Pausing in front of the door, you smooth yourself out, like you weren’t just running around like an insane person a few minutes ago, and then you open the door. The sight of Gojo is shocking, it wasn’t what you were expecting… you’ve seen him in casual clothes before, but you think you’ve gotten too used to seeing him at the school.

You mumble out, “You look nice.”

His eyes light up behind his glasses, “Why thank you, you look nice as well.” He speaks lowly on his way past you.

You stand stunned for a little, not expecting his compliment to affect you so much. He’s already walked down the hall while you stood staring at where he once was. Closing the door, you start after him, meeting him in the lounge room.

“You ready?” He asks.

You nod your head, waiting for him to show how he accrued the movie.

“Ta da!” He shows the usb stick, presumedly holding the movie.

You sigh at his jovial display of piracy and grab the thumb drive off him. Gojo makes himself comfortable on the couch while you plug it into the tv.

“You have a cute apartment,” he hums, looking around from where he’s sitting.

Grabbing the remote, you switch through the tv’s sources and search for the content on the stick, “Thank you… I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” he affirms.

You flop down next to him on the couch, “We good to start? Or do you have more to say?”

“I always have more to say,” he grins.

“I’ve noticed,” you snark back, beginning the movie anyways.

It starts off good, the movie’s quality isn’t great but it’s good enough to enjoy the content of the film. That is… until the halfway mark and then the quality drops significantly and you can’t even tell what’s happening on screen anymore, everything fuzzy and words mumbled, almost robotic.

You suppress a smile, “Gojo… where did you get the movie?”

“…Online somewhere… I watched the first few minutes and it looked fiiine,” he’s whinging slightly, disappointed in the sudden quality drop.

You can’t help but laugh at his complete dismay, “It’s fine, Gojo, at least I got to see some of it?” You try looking on the bright side, “You’ll just have to buy me a real copy when it comes out.”

“Is that another invitation?” He teases.

You look over to him, “Another? I barely remember giving out this one.”

“That hurts, you know?” He pouts at you.

You can’t help the way your face breaks out in a smile, “It is.” He looks at you confused, “An invitation,” you finish.

His pout breaks into a large smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you liked me.”

“Ah, you’re beginning to grow on me,” you torment lightly.

He nods his head solemnly, “Knew I would.”

You scoff at him, only now realising how close he’s gotten to you, your knees touching, his face so close to your own. You go to look away from him, feeling self-conscious, but his hand reaches up and pulls your face back to continue the intense eye contact.

“If I kiss you right now, will you try and punch me again?” He jokes, trying to relieve the tension.

You find a place inside you that outweighs your anxiety, “Only one way for you to find out.”

He leans in that tiny bit more and captures your lips in his, the kiss tender and gentle, he’s searching, learning. He doesn’t want to scare you away, wanting to kiss you for so long and not willing to ruin it by spooking you now. It took him so long just to work up the courage to get inside your apartment, he doesn’t want you to pull back when you’ve finally stepped towards him.

He parts first, hesitant, if he keeps kissing you, it won’t stay innocent because he really wants to kiss you until you cry.

You repress a whine at the loss of him, “Wait…” You trail off, embarrassed by how badly you want him to keep kissing you.

“Yeah?” He presses, wanting to hear you ask him for it.

“Can… you kiss me again,” you ask, before adding, “please?”

It’s too good to be true, he’s dreaming… but even if that’s the case, he’s sure as hell not wasting this moment, “Anything for you~”

Leaning back in, he kisses you with more fervour, his lips more insistent, desperate. His one hand stays on your face, angling you so he can kiss you deeper, he wants more, more. The other hand reaches for your hip, tugging and pulling at the fat there, groping your skin greedily.

Your moans and whimpers muffle into his mouth, he swallows them down, licking into your mouth, silently asking for more. Which, you give, you think you’d give him the world right now if you could. His kisses are dizzying and full. You’ve not been kissed like this… ever and it’s overwhelming you in an embarrassing way.

Pulling back, you rush out, “Wait wait…”

Gojo freaks a little, “Shit– sorry, was it too much?”

You shake your head, “No, well…maybe, I’ve just… never been kissed like that before, I was feeling dizzy.”

He breathes a sigh of relief before targeting you with a teasing smile, an evil glint in his eyes, “I’m kissing you dumb, huh?”

You feel hot, everywhere, “I–”

Your defence is cut off with this lips back on yours, he’s drunk on your kisses and he’s not going to stop. Knowing that he’s overwhelming you with them only spurs him on, he wants you to be so stupid because of his lips, he thinks he couldn’t want anything more than that right now.

Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer; he lets it happen and falls into you, pressing your back into the couch. On instinct, your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him down into you more, desiring the proximity. His front presses into yours and you both moan into each other.

He trails kisses from your lips to the side of your face, down to your neck, his teeth nipping lightly, sucking into your skin, leaving marks behind, not really caring about how you’ll struggle to cover them tomorrow. You gasp into him and raise your hips, grinding into him without meaning to. The friction has him groaning into the skin of your neck.

His large hand grabs at the thickest part of your thigh, grabbing and pulling your covered cunt closer to his clothed dick. His hips dig down into yours, humping into you and trying to fight off the urge to cum in his pants at the minimal amount of stimulation.

He huffs against your sensitive skin, “Bet you’re so fucking wet, fuck–”

“Gojo–”

He cuts you off, “­–Lemme… lemme touch you more, please.”

You nod at him, eyes glassy from how he kissed you, “Uh huh, do– do whatever you want~”

His hand is immediately leaving your thigh and reaching into the front of your pants, under your panties and through your dripping folds, a shiver running down his back as he groans deeply. He had a feeling you were wet but fuck– he wasn’t expecting this.

You sob a moan into the collar of his shirt where you’ve tucked your head, his fingers glide through your slick, teasing you, lightly grazing your clit.

His tone is light, “So eager~”

“Don’t t–tease, it’s unkind,” you try to chastise him.

He smiles at you, it’s dark but full, as a single finger probes at your entrance, slipping in carefully, aided fully by the amount of slick that gushes from your pussy, “So messy,” he hums, nosing the side of your face, giggling at the whimper you let out.

“Gojo–”

“–I think…” his finger slips to the hilt, pulling back before fucking back in, wet squelching sounding through your small apartment, “…I’ve earned Satoru, when I’m knuckles deep in your pretty, little cunt.”

If you thought you were hot before, you definitely were now, “Satoru, please.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” his cock jerks in his pants at the sound of you finally calling him by his name.

Your small gasps and sighs are setting his skin on fire, a light flush dusting his features, he still wants more from you, he wants to hear it all, he wants to feel it all, he wants to see it all. Deciding he’s had enough of your clothes, he slips his finger from deep in your cunt, which results in the prettiest, wrecked sound coming from you.

“Just a sec, need these off…” he tugs your pants down and off, leaving you in your panties, he hums in thought at you, “…These are cute,” he points out, looking at to the lacy garment decorating your lower half, “Expecting something to happen?”

You shake your head no, not loving the accusation that you planned this, “No, I just… didn’t have anything else…”

“Convenient,” he comments, taking notice of how completely ruined they are, wet from your arousal pooling in them. He pulls the side of them away from your skin, only to let it slap back against you, enjoying the way you squirm under him, “I think I’ll leave these on.”

He continues undressing you though, tugging off your shirt, your bra following along soon after. You feel so exposed compared to his fully dressed form. His cock strains against his pants though, sitting heavy against the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes you salivate but he takes no notice.

“I gotta get my mouth on you, pretty thing,” he murmurs more to himself than you, since you’re not really thinking at this point, only squirming under him and trying to rub your thighs together.

He shuffles down between your legs, spreading them apart further and tossing them over his shoulder. Drawing your panties to the side, he presses his face into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the act makes you jump and whinge out his name, shocked by the completely debauched display.

“Satoru~”

He doesn’t reply, not with words, he mumbles into your pussy and licks a long stipe from your hole to your clit before licking back down. His tongue pushing into your cunt with the desperation of a starved man. His nose presses against your clit and he moves his head side to side slightly, stimulating it.

You moan and whimper into the air, fingers finding purchase in his hair, needing something to tug onto while he eats you out in the messiest way possible. There is no finesse, he’s sloppily making out with your cunt, drinking down all the arousal that leaks from you eagerly.

Your thighs begin shaking beside his head and he holds you tighter, his head moving back and forth quickly, shaking it, trying to force your orgasm from you. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your soft skin and the way he groans so unrestrained into your pussy has you cumming on his face very suddenly.

Your stomach twists as your cunt clenches around Gojo’s tongue, your mind lost in how good you feel. Not registering the sound of your moans or the sounds of his mouth lapping at you in the most lewd manner, it should be embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can’t seem to care when it feels this good.

He’s unrelenting, licking and mouthing at your sensitive pussy until you start twitching away from him and pulling on his hair harshly, wordlessly tell him it’s too much.

“Perfect,” he turns his face to the side and mumbles into your thigh, nipping at the skin, delighting in the way your body jerks, “Got an absolutely perfect cunt.” He says shamelessly.

“Gojo!”

He looks up at you through his lashes, “Ah, back to Gojo now?” he leans up and back onto his knees, tugging his shirt over his head and discarding it with the rest of your clothes, “No worries, I’ll fix that real soon.”

The sound of his belt clinking and zipper undoing brings you out of your thoughts, temporarily disarmed by the sudden exposure of his skin. He doesn’t bother taking them off completely, just shirking them down enough to free his painfully erect cock.

Your gaze gets lost in the sight of his dick, leaking thick globs of precum from the tip down his shaft. His hand tugging lazily at it, spreading his own mess everywhere, slicking it up for you. Wet sounds of his hand languidly fucking his cock makes your skin prick. How he’s going to fit you aren’t sure, the size of him is daunting.

He smiles when you look back in his eyes, “There she is.” He leans down over you, “I know I have a really nice dick but let’s try and stay focused, pretty, hmm?”

It’s condescending and egotistical of him to say but you can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine at his words, “Gojo, you have a massive–”

“–Dick? Yeah I know,” he smiles cheekily at you.

You finish your previous interrupted statement, “I was gonna say ego.”

“Two things can be true at once,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You ready for this?”

“I don’t think I could ever be ready for this,” you retort.

“Way to boost a guys ego,” he chuckles at your comment.

You grab the side of his face, “Not that you need it.” You murmur before pulling him down for another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.

He licks into your mouth straight away; you can taste yourself on his tongue. You feel like you could float away, not knowing how you’ve gone your whole life without being kissed like this. Your thighs are back on either side of his hips again, your need to be filled growing by the second.

Pulling back, he sits up so he can watch himself enter your tight pussy. He’s not denying himself this view, not when he’s imagined it so many times before. He rubs his cock through your folds a few times, relishing in your small jumps and moans. He needs it wet; it needs to be so fucking wet if he even dreams of fucking his cock all the way inside you.

“I’m gonna need you to relax for me and remember to breathe if you wanna take it all,” he says it so seriously, and if you hadn’t seen his dick you would’ve assumed he was just stroking his own ego for the sake of it.

You nod at him, “Got it, now please,” your hips wiggle slightly, enticing him.

“I got ya,” he smirks, pushing forward slightly.

The tip of him is a lot, your cunt stretching to take it, the ache dulled by the absolute messy state of your pussy and the thumb Gojo is pressing into your clit. He intakes a sharp breath at the snug fit of your cunt, his hips jerking forward mindlessly, a groan pulled from deep in him, while you whimper pathetically.

Your breath stutters and you’re struggling, grip on his cock impossibly tight, through gritted teeth, he reminds, “Hey, hey… breathe yeah? You gotta –fuck– you gotta breathe for me, pretty.”

Collecting yourself, you attempt to take deep breaths, they come out stuttered but the punishing grip you had on him eases, “Almost had me fucking cumming, geez…” he laughs lightly at it but he would’ve been beyond embarrassed if he came with only his tip inside of you, he’d never live it down.

“You can –hah– you can move,” you stammer out.

He double checks, “You sure?”

Your eyes are so wet and your voice is wrecked when you add, “Please.”

An evil smile takes its place on his face, “Why were you assigned to work with me?”

“Gojo, not now,” your words break off into a whine, you sound so pathetic, you do not have the upper hand here.

“Mmm? You want me to stuff you full? Tell me the reason,” he leans down slightly, cock slipping just that tiny bit more into you.

Ignoring him, your wrap your legs tighter around his waist and try fucking up onto him, it works for the one second that he lets it and then one of his large hands is reaching down and slamming your hips back into the couch cushions.

“Come on, pretty,” his breath wafts against the side of your face, his lips tickling your ear, “You really gonna waste time being stubborn?”

“You’re the stubborn one,” you argue.

He hums noncommittally, almost like you proved his point for him, “Come on, I can feel you fucking pulsing around me, just tell me what you did~”

“I– I… I didn’t listen to an order on a mission and almost got myself killed,” you pout out, breathing laboured.

He tsks at you, disapproving of your actions, “You really should be more careful,” he kisses beside your ear, “And listen to your seniors more.” It goes without saying that, that includes him. You suspect he’s mostly talking about himself; he has no respect for the current hierarchy.

“Gojo, you said you would–”

He tilts his head at you, “–I did but now knowing how reckless you were, I can’t help but want to punish you a bit more…”

Your waterline fills with tears at the frustration, your pussy fluttering on the barely two inches he has sat inside you, how he’s holding out so well you have no idea because you’re about to fucking cry.

Your voice is embarrassing to even your own ears, “Satoru, please, more.”

“Ah, well when you ask like that, how can I say no?” He’s acting as if he’s taking mercy on you and not like his dick didn’t twitch violently at you using his name again.

Slowly, he pushes into you, stopping every now and again to let you adjust and reminding you to just breathe through it. Something Gojo has realised is, your cunt is so reactive to him, the words he speaks, the hand he has on your hip, the kisses he presses into the side of your head, all of it has you spasming around him and every time you do, it feels like a gut punch to him.

It’s addictive and also world shattering, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to last when he actually starts fucking into you. The little noises you make don’t help either, how on earth is he meant to last more than a minute inside you?

Eventually, he bottoms out, the both of you moaning at the relief, your legs nearly kick at the sensation of how deep inside you he is, “Satoru, move?”

He bites out, “Give me a second.” He’s fighting the primal urge to cum inside you right now.

You whine under him, hips twitching, using the minimal amount of space to grind your pelvis into his. Your pussy stutters around him at the stimulation on your clit and he groans loudly at it, his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.

He forces your hips down and still again, pinning you to the couch with his own, “You’re so impatient. Do you want this to be over now? You want me to cum after only being fully inside you for a minute?”

You shake your head at him, the feral look in his eyes making your stomach do flips, your pussy gushing around him.

He laughs dryly, “Fuck, I can’t do a single thing without turning you on more, huh?”

You look away from him, embarrassment reaching a new pique with that comment, “Not nice, Satoru.”

“Not a bad thing, pretty,” he noses your cheek, realising how he said it harshly without meaning it that way, “Huge compliment, knowing you react this way to me is fucking perfect but it also has me on the edge of finishing prematurely.”

Turning your head back to him, you look him in the eyes and he swears he sees heaven because you have tears trailing down your cheeks and your eyes are blown and wet and he’s gonna finish if he keeps looking at you. So, instead, he leans in and kisses you deep, getting lost in the taste and feel of your mouth.

The small reprieve helps and he begins thrusting his hips back and forth, his cock leaving and entering you with the most obscene noises he’s ever heard. It’s such a fucking mess, leaking out of you, down your thighs and onto your nice couch. And even if he really tried, he couldn’t give a fuck, not when your cunt is so slick and warm and wrapping around him like it was made for him.

The sounds you let out are cute but muffled against his mouth, he settles for swallowing them down but he’d really rather hear them loud and clear. You flutter around him so beautifully, everything you do is perfect to him and you laying here while he shoves you full of his fat cock is no different.

He pulls away from your lips to hear the noises you make for him, “Cute,” he comments offhandedly, not even sure if you hear the contents of his words. He only knows you hear his voice because your cunt clenches down on him at the sound.

You cry out to him, “S’toru~”

“Ah, you’re so fucking close aren’t you,” the smile on his face is huge and wolfish, excited to feel you cum all over him, looking forward to literally nothing else.

You try to verbalise it, “I– mm –mmph–”

“Go on, let yourself gush all over me, wanna fucking feel it, pretty,” his words are sharp against your ear.

His hips increase their pace, slamming down into you more forcefully, his pelvis grinding into your clit harshly. Your eyes cross into the back of your head, neck lolling back bonelessly, choppy, whimpered sounds leave you. Your fingers claw at his biceps, leaving behind angry marks. Gojo’s hands have a death grip on your hips, bruised marks will definitely be left behind in their wake.

A particularly sharp thrust and loud whine from Gojo has you cumming under him, your pussy gripping him tight as your cum leaks from you sloppily, his cock coated in it. Creamy ring left at the base of his cock as he continues thrusting mercilessly.

His abs pull taut, his resolve finally breaking now that he’d finally felt you finish on him, “Where you want it?”

“Inside, please Satoru,” your words are mumbled and breathy.

“Fuuuuuck.”

He’s lucky you said that because your words have him cumming on the spot, thick ropes of his cum being forced deep inside your little cunt. It leaks out around the base of him, even as he presses deep into you, his pelvis tight against yours, riding out his high by grinding into you slightly. The stimulation making your cunt jump around him as he hisses at the slight overstimulation he’s forcing himself into.

You both huff, gasping greedily for air after your intense highs, the room filled with nothing but silence and your haste breaths. Eventually, you both even out and lay there quietly, Gojo pressed against you with his cock still snug inside your pussy.

“Gojo, you’re heavy,” you tell him.

He laughs, “Right, sorry.”

Leaning back, he slowly pulls his dick from you, both hissing at it. His eyes are fixated on the way his cum slips from your hole, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight, obsessing over how hot it is that you took so much of him. He slips your panties back into place, letting them keep his cum inside you.

“You did so good,” he praises you suddenly.

It makes you feel bashful, “So did you…” you mumble out.

A loud laugh results from him, “Thank you,” he says, his eyes crinkled in a large smile.

Gojo cleans the pair of you up, tucking you carefully into your bed and holding you close as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Do you want me to be?” He questions lightly, trying not to expect anything from you.

“…Yes, I’d like it a lot if you stayed, I think.” You admit shyly.

“Then I’ll be here,” he presses himself into you closer, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you.

You don’t think this was in your job description…

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[candlecordyceps]

Ok I’m taking the time to Yap now WARNING FOR ANIME SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED IT!!!

This is just my raw emotional reactions, opinions, and just general interpretations of the last few scenes in the episode.

Starting off, I’m beginning with Shuro confronting Laois for what he did. Shuro seems to be a very high-standing fellow from what I’ve been given so far (as an anime only currently- I will start reading the manga once it finishes releasing I promise). He has guards that are close to him, and I assume he’s rich, and knowing that he will DEFINITELY care a lot more about black magic and laws, because they effect him more due to his (assumed) status. He’s understandably terrified of what this means for Falin. And he confronts Laois by asking him,

“Do you know what you’ve done?” He tells him all the hell that he can go through for it, what FALIN will go through for it, Marcille will go through- but Laois knows.

He’s well aware of the consequences and he was willing to do it anyways. For Falin. For his sister. Because she was willing to risk her life for him and for everyone, everyone followed suit, and the desperation to do so was so powerful they were willing to do what it took. And Laois ALSO knows, that despite what Shuro is doing right now,

He would’ve done the same. Shuro won’t kill him, because he knows he would’ve done anything too. Laois doesn’t GET people. He thought he could trust Shuro to be quiet. At this point it’s pretty obvious to me, especially in the episode with him being clingy and friendly with Shuro, calling him the one of the “only ones to call him a friend”, despite Shuro’s very obvious uncomfortable-disturbed-annoyed attitude toward Laois and general unwellness being unnoticed (until told specifically of it, to which Laois immediately got onto Shuro about his health). Yet, he knows Shuro would’ve done anything too.

Shuro stays his sword, Laois wishes for understanding, Kabru gets a drama boner (I find it funny how into it he is), and the scene changes. And FUCK man.

Laois loves Falin so much, and he knows how much Shuro cares. He cared enough to return. He told him everything because he needs the help, and he’s banking on the care for Falin to be enough to work with him to return her to safety. I’m SOOOO hoping he does help. That he breaks down and the sword falls from Laois’s neck. That even though it goes against a law so potent it could get everyone involved into extremely deep trouble, the bonds he’s made are enough. I don’t know Shuro well enough at all. Lord knows if he’ll even keep it to himself if they get out of the dungeon. But GOD am I not thrilled to figure out more. AND NOW, to the scene that made me scream from my seat multiple times,

Faliiiiiinnnnnnnnn GHHHHHOOOODDDD. When I tell you I GASPED. Watching the hands that we had witnessed painstakingly put together. The hands That two people took the care into fixing and making sure each was in the perfect place- scraping against the floor. Bloody around the sleeves, clawing forward- on a mission for someone she doesn’t actually know. Her mind is warped by the mission of the mage. Put back together just to bleed and be reshaped and melded to something scary and unknown and new-

AND ITS TERRIFYING. LOOK AT HER. JESUS CHRRRIIIIIIIST. Someone so loved and someone they all want to protect is RIGHT THERE, but she’s almost unrecognizable beyond her face, and mentally she’s so incredibly far away.

I can’t imagine the distress in everyone as they realize that they have to fight the exact person they’ve been fighting for. Because there’s no way she is peaceful and there is no way she’ll just “be Falin” without some extreme inbetweens. There’s no way that the mage doesn’t return if/when they succeed. I’m SOO excited to witness them figure it out and try to save her once more.

IF YOU MADE IT HERE THANKS FOR READING ME YAPPING!! This is mainly a little storage for me later when I wanna revisit and figure out what I thought before I knew what happened. Have a nice day/night readers!

[skippyv20]

Skip, Julie here. I worked for 43 years in fantastic jobs. Some as an employee, in HR, and in Senior Management. My employers were very well known Companies or Government. They had sick leave policies where employees from CEO to newest employee were entitled to medical leave and privacy of all medical information.

As a Manager I was aware of some very serious medical issues and we offorded those people complete privacy. Time to heal was dependent on their medical team despite how much they might have been needed in the workplace (perhaps being the only person with authority or highest level skill to deal with something vital).

A couple of these medical issues dealt with very serious surgery plus complications, and convalescence to deal with consequences of how their bodies or lives were changed and the mental processes they had to go through to understand and accept the changes.

Under no circumstances would I have ever thought it necessary to inform the other employees what was happening with the ill employee other than to update the return date. These people worked closely together but knew the value of allowing the one who was ill the time and space to fully recover. My contacting the employee for an update on whether they needed us was their choice to make, not mine or the company.

Princess of Wales is a senior member of a firm and a much loved member of a family. In her case she has a world wide family who care that she has been seriously ill and as family members we just want her to fully recover physically and mentally from her ordeal. We care and I think that says so much about how highly people around the world think of her.

As a senior member of the firm her bosses are aware of her illness and prognosis and have given her sick leave based on medical advice. I know the taxpayers of the UK keep up the mantra of BRF works for us, we pay them. Ok they are shareholders in the Company and they have an interest in ensuring the Company is providing the service they expect from it. The Company is BRF but no Company provides health information on senior employees except the CEO for obvious reasons. The company continues to operate even if a very important senior staff member is unwell.

My personal view is Catherine has been through a major abdominal surgery that has immediate and long term consequences for her. For HER, her husband and her 3 children. She does not owe any of us an explanation or an update. She loves her job and she does it brilliantly. She is totally loyal to King and Queen, her parents, siblings and the Commonwealth. She will never intentionally cause harm to her husbands family members.

People need to give her the same space we would all expect if we were seriously ill. I know people want to know what happened to her but really it is none of our business. Our role is to allow her time to fully heal so she can return to her role in the Company as soon as possible. No doubt she is already working behind the scenes.

I’m sorry this is long winded but I feel for her. 20 years of trying to please everyone yet when she needs some help people turn on her some will be because they are worried others for their own reasons. People need to send a private message of support but otherwise let her heal.

Princess of Wales, Catherine, God bless and keep you and your family fully protected and return you to full health We await your return, with patience, to your essential role for the Monarchy and we look forward to seeing you with your beautiful family vase soon as you feel you are fully recovered.

This is a lovely, thoughtful post Julie…no not too long.  I greatly appreciate the time and your experience you have shared with us.  I am quite proud of the fact that the people that come to this blog, are sensitive and caring and express nothing but support for Catherine and her family.  People are so concerned with “accountability “ these days….people are simply forgetting that behind the public life….is a real life going on, and people are dealing with all the same issues as everyone else.  The old “walk a mile in my shoes” comes to mind!  Thank YOU again Julie!🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[hinamie]

hiii hina <333 ok so now i must know, what are some of your favourite character designs? like, the elements are so compelling and go so well together to form a design that is cohesive and visually appealing. and is there a particular piece of media that just has consistently banging character designs?

OOH OKKOKOK listen. i am no expert i have not been classically trained in fact i have not taken a single char design course but to me, good character design boils down to 2 main elements: a. recognizability and b. visual storytelling and the concept of show, don’t tell. recognizability is where more technical elements like shape language and silhouette come into play. u want an audience to be able to instantly know a character with minimal confusion, and that is made much easier if u have good working knowledge of shapes, colours, and proportions. That’s what /makes/ a good design, but what /SELLS/ that design is the underlying meaning. WHy do characters look the way they do. what can you learn from the way they look. there is undoubtedly a time and a place for designs that are just cute to be cute but if u want to make a lasting impression beyond “oh this character is hot/cute/attractive” u gotta dig deeper.

i am going to yap now smile

i wld b remiss and a liar and a fraud if i did not talk about arcane in regards to character design. fr me arcane is THE media that does not miss with a single one of their designs. this show is fucking stunning points at every character . every single one of them . hand in marriage. u learn SO much about everyone and their roles/personalities/fighting styles just by looking at them not to mention they’re all fucking 10s this show is a bisexual’s nightmARE anyway personal favourites vi and jinx but ths just me being predictable 

vi /looks/ like a fighter the minute u see her. her build her gait everything about her screams this woman will snap me like a twig (pLpslslplpslpslpspl). u see tht she’s rough and brash but one thing i rly find interesting is her hair colour. like fr one its brightness distinguishes her as a main character, but also pink being typically associated with femininity/love/nurture/compassion is SO interesting paired with vi. not only is it kind of subversive bc vi is not traditionally “feminine”, but she does embody all of those traits in that her reason for fighting comes from a place of wanting to nurture and protect. i could talk for hours about vi anyway. hand in marriage,,./.?? hand in marriage pls/?????????

jinx i LOVE I LOVE I LOVE . she’s wiry she’s chaotic she’s asymmetrical and that MEANS something it /shows/ her mental state n the way she fluctuates between her identities of jinx and powder. I love the hints of pink/purple not only as visual nods to vi but also as alluding to shimmer and the dangerous undercurrent it gives her. not 2 mention her design works so well alongside her sister like. besides the obvious pink/blue juxtaposition everything about them from their body types their colour schemes the way they carry themselves the way they dress… it’s peak . nothing tops arcane in character design for me

a few other noteworthy mentions: 

illumi hxh - listen idk what the fuck he’s wearing but it’s a 90s shounen i’ll forgive him. illumi’s design is brilliant imo. he’s not in your face like hisoka who u see and know immediately that this guy is insane, he’s beautiful but sleek in a way that makes him almost reptilian. it’s a subtle kind of off-putting and u want to recoil when u see him but it’s just understated enough that u don’t know Why until it’s too late. the wide, catlike dead eyes the jet black hair… his design lends SO well to what he represents for killua, he’s this ever-present shadow he’s an oppressive force we see phantoms of illumi’s eyes Boring into killua we see his hair forming a sort of cage god the visuals the visuals im so . im unwell about the zoldyks actually. 

kaneki tg - this one is a bit tricky bc at first glance kaneki /is/ just ur standard dark hair protag but!! the way his design and specifically his hair r used as a visual representation of his mental state and character arc is so good i lovelovelove the progression and storytelling u see through his design alone.

- early kaneki w his shorter plain black hair makes him look innocent and unassuming bc he /is/. he was no one special, what happened to him was just pure bad luck. - ghoul kaneki w white hair showing the mental break after he’s tortured, stripped of his innocence/sanity/humanity - HAISE MY LOVE the two-toned hair showcasing how he has literally become a blank slate after his amnesia and the events of tg and the resulting limbo between identities ((also idk if it’s just tht ishida’s style had changed by :re but haise’s hair in particular is so FLUFFY it makes him look very non-threatening which might be a coincedence but might also be intentional in showing how he’s taken on more of a gentle mentor role by this point)) - reaper kaneki and we r once again back to black but whereas before it made him look plain and unassuming with the new context it makes him look /lethal/. ((also directly contrasts arima's design, having a near identical silhouette with the only difference being his black to arima's white)) - endgame kaneki finally settling back on white as a way to show tht after everything he’s been through he’s come back permanently changed: he is a ghoul, he’ll never b able to go back to the way things were or reclaim his humanity, but he’s gotten to a place where he's at peace with it now tl;dr cataloguing a character’s journey and mental state through their appearance >>>>>>>

LAST THING IK IVE YAPPED SO MUCH GOMEN ,, i did want to tack on my feelings about, wouldn’t u know it, genshin fucking impact, bc i did say i think there is a place for character designs that r just pretty to be pretty and i think a lot of genshin designs r good examples of this. i’ve seen some people getting upset about genshin being lazy with character design and making their characters unnecessarily Busy, but as someone who doesn’t play and doesn’t know anything about the game let me just say tht if the goal is to get players to spend money fuckin congratulations . i too would whale for some of these designs. bc i don’t play i don’t know for sure whether or not characters' appearances have any relevance to their lore or if it’s mostly just bells and whistles purely for aesthetic, all i know is am not immune to alhaitham. 

[flickersprout]

hello would you be willing to say your million opinions about the mystery twins?

WHY YES

I am unwell about these people thank you so much for asking /gen (long post incoming)

I'm a little more familiar with Cellbit's character than Bagi's, so probably have more headcanons about him. I am actively trying to get more unhinged about Bagi because she is so cool and everyone should tell me their Bagi headcanons

Bagi headcanons/opinions:

She should be transfem. as a treat. her being transfem lets me make the twins identical, and anything that makes it more obvious how related they are makes them funnier

Her being transfem also adds fun layers to her relationship with Tina, as Tina is a demon pretending to be human. All I'm saying is you could do some fun parallels and contrasts about presentation and the self

Also if you make her and Jaiden and Baghera all transfem, you get the fun fed-sisters-plus transfem solidarity that exists only in my head

She can only barely cook. She never learned as a kid and then got fucking frozen, and she's tried to learn as an adult but it's not going well

When she thinks about raising Empanada, she gets kinda caught between wanting to pass on the pacifist, live-and-let-live mentality that she pretends to have and the more defensive/aggressive ideas she actually has. She does like the idea of pacifism and doesn't want Empanada to grow up bitter, but... peace isn't what's kept her safe and alive

Empanada's first death resolved a lot of those conflicts. A kinder world isn't coming, so she has to raise a fighter

Her "pretending to be an ethical vegetarian" thing is hilarious to me. girl you aren't pretending to be a vegetarian you just are one. you can lie about your reasons but girl. you don't eat meat

Cellbit headcanons/opinions:

He can't cook even a little bit. Federation pet -> child soldier -> jail-> struggling adult? yeah he never fucking learned to cook

Relatedly I think he's a picky eater but has weird tastes. Like i think he eats instant microwave/just add water foods raw and likes it because he learned to eat it like that at some point, but can't stand a lot of "real food" because he just never got used to it (this is partly based on me lsjkhd)

He owns a butterfly knife and he's good with it. He picked it up as a hobby after Fuga when he was in therapy because he needed something to fill his time and it was a socially acceptable way to carry a knife. He can do all kinds of tricks now

Just pre-purgatory (and probably still now tbh) sometimes the butterfly knife suddenly reminds him too much of a real knife or triggers some kind of intrusive thought that scares him. His reaction to this is to just let go of the knife midair. He's very lucky no one's gotten hurt yet

He 100% remembers more of his childhood with Bagi than he admits. He pretends he doesn't because even acknowledging that he was a child once undermines his image of himself as a monster (upsetting, unhealthy self-image, sure, but one that's kept him safe. monsters aren't afraid of anything. monsters can't be hurt. children, though?)

As much as I understand and will read about autistic!Cellbit headcanons, I don't agree (i am autistic, for the record). He's actually really good with social cues, like scary good, and obviously has really strong theory of mind. Like I get where people are coming from but we need to defend an allistic guy's right to just be a fucking freak (/lh /nm)

I want to call Cellbit and Baghera "hunters" instead of "chainsaw killers." again I get where people are coming from. it's funny and I'll use it. however hunters would go so hard. same genre as codebreakers and bloodhounds. do you see my vision

[super-hero-confessions]

I am so tired of people acting as if actions, singular or otherwise, should define a human being forever and always like people can't make mistakes, do wrong and learn better, or change what they do and who they are.

I am so tired of people conflating logical explanations and rational deep thinking that tries to explore causality with making "excuses" for obvious repercussions due to circumstances, or condoning evil shit like it doesn't matter and there's no way to prevent it because they're "just monsters".

This thinking is what's wrong with society.

This thinking is what leads ex-cons to call it quits on reintegration and commit more crimes to get thrown back in jail because hey, they may be used for slave labor, may be mistreated and dehumanized, but at least they can eat.

Let's see what happens when you make a mistake or do the wrong thing and not a single goddamn person lets you breathe for it, coming down on you like you're the devil showing your own stupid humanity for a single second. God forbid you have an unpopular opinion in a closed minded space.

I am so tired of common sense being uncommon. I am so tired of the hostility towards anyone who's not a perfect angel, like that's a realistic standard to hold humans to? Or fuck it, canon ideas that make a fave not a perfect angel or even "drawing a line" at one specific crime.

I am so tired of people being so damn media illiterate and incapable of basic reading comprehension. I am so tired of the double standards and hypocrisy.

I am so tired of people being "confused" by media literally designed to make them think. I am so tired of people being obtuse and purposely misconstruing a message or making up bullshit to villainize an author or their work.

How does anyone fuck up author's intent so badly? What is so hard about differentiating reality from fiction? Context clues are taught in 4th and 5th grade, how are people this willfully ignorant? Are they just trolls?

Is it just the constant battle of nature vs. nurture, of perception and personal bias that leaves people blind and unwilling to see past their own preconceived world views?

Why are we still here? Just to suffer?

Ducks are fucking rapists. Yet they are still a well loved animal for many people.

Most if not all animals are murderers. Hamsters frequently eat their own babies.

Nature has a way of working itself out to promote survival, regardless of the cost. If you treat someone like an animal without giving them the chance to define themselves and who they want to be, they will act like an animal. They will survive.

Fucking Megamind taught us that!

If you're someone that thinks a villain like Homelander, who has literally been through the worst possible shit a human being could ever go through and then some, a guy who is clearly, very clearly mentally unwell, is completely beyond saving or proper help and treatment?

You have lost the plot and are part of the problem. Ableist as all hell too.

Please, for the love of God people, get yourselves educated. There is so much that's easy access in the age of the Internet. I promise, education and understanding is how we make the world a better place.

Not all this... Performative stupidity.

[zinniajones]

“That was dysphoria?” 8 signs and symptoms of indirect gender dysphoria

(reposted from my blog)

by Zinnia Jones — September 10, 2013

Update, June 2017: Please see my latest post on depersonalization symptoms in gender dysphoria for further details on the dissociative phenomena described in this article.

I am not a doctor, and none of this should be taken as medical advice or as diagnostic of any medical condition. These are anecdotes sourced from my experiences and those of others.

Gender dysphoria is widely described and experienced as distress due to discomfort with one’s assigned sex, and the desire to live as another sex. The condition of gender dysphoria is common among transgender people, although being transgender is not itself a condition or disorder, nor is the presence of gender dysphoria required in order for someone to be transgender. Not all trans people have significant gender dysphoria or experience their dysphoria in the same way: different trans people may be uncomfortable with different aspects of their assigned sex, their body, their presentation, the gender role expected of them, and so on.

Nevertheless, the common thread of gender dysphoria is that it is linked with our gender and the various components of this. The distress of dysphoria, and hopefully its resolution, are contingent on how closely the overall situation of our gender aligns with what we need it to be. For this reason, people typically understand the experience of gender dysphoria as being very clearly and self-evidently centered on gender. The most widespread notion is that we become aware of our dysphoria in very direct, gender-related ways, such as knowing from a young age that we’re actually women or men despite the sex we were assigned, feeling “trapped” in our bodies due to their inappropriate sex characteristics, needing to make our “outside” match our “inside”, and strongly wishing to present and live as another gender.

Diverse experiences of dysphoria

This understanding of gender dysphoria is an incomplete one. A largely unrecognized facet of dysphoria is that not all trans people initially recognize or experience this as being unmistakably connected to our genders. Some of us suffer the distress that stems from dysphoria, but without many clues that this is about gender, and its relation to our genders may be obvious only in retrospect. Much attention is focused on the “gender” part of this, the well-defined cross-gender identities and needs and feelings. Less is given to the experience of more general dysphoria.

What is dysphoria? Outside of gender dysphoria, it’s hard to find much useful information on what dysphoria itself is supposed to mean. It’s certainly not limited to gender dysphoria – it can be a symptom of various other conditions as wide-ranging as anxiety disorders, personality disorders, major depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, insomnia, PMS, and stress, and it can also be a side effect of antipsychotic drugs.

But what does dysphoria actually feel like – how does it present itself? You won’t find much more detail than a simple list of other symptoms. Wikipedia describes it as “a state of feeling unwell or unhappy; a feeling of emotional and mental discomfort”. Another page lists anxiety as a symptom of dysphoria, and dysphoria as a symptom of anxiety. As a 2007 paper in Australasian Psychiatry concluded:

The current semantic status of dysphoria is most unsatisfactory. Its definitions are usually too broad or too simplistic and, therefore, not clinically useful. There is no agreement on what the term means.

People in distress want to understand exactly what it is they’re experiencing and why they’re experiencing it, and vague references to “feeling unwell” are not helpful. We already know we’re not feeling well. Why? And what can we do about it?

That’s the question faced by trans people whose gender dysphoria doesn’t present in ways that are directly and plainly connected to gender. My gender dysphoria primarily took the form of this indirect dysphoria, and I’ve spoken with many other trans people whose dysphoria also did not initially have a clear and unavoidable association with gender. Due to the lack of strong indicators that these “unwell feelings” are actually a matter of gender, it can take us quite a long time just to realize that we’re trans or that what we’re feeling is dysphoria. This can be so non-obvious that even as some of us do begin to explore the possibility of transitioning, we still might not make the connection that our unwell feelings are a symptom of dysphoria, or that transitioning is something that could help with this.

The importance of recognizing dysphoria

When you don’t know what this is, or that it’s even an actual condition, it’s easy to mistake it for who you naturally are. You might think it’s part of your innate personality and disposition, and something you just have to learn to cope with. This can delay recognizing that you’re trans or that transitioning is an appropriate choice for you. Because I viewed my lifelong unease in this way, I initially believed that I didn’t even experience dysphoria, and that I was already okay. I didn’t know there was anything wrong with me.

The real extent of my dysphoria only became clear after I began to transition (motivated largely by the desire to induce physical feminization and prevent further masculinization, rather than the need to treat a clear dysphoria), and these feelings dissipated for the first time ever. Once I had this basis for comparison, I could see that I was indeed experiencing gender dysphoria all along – it was just so indirect that I had failed to recognize it as specifically gender-related.

Trans and questioning people sometimes doubt that they’re trans simply because they don’t have distinct feelings of gender-related unease. They might otherwise face a great deal of confusion about what it is they’re feeling, but they can be aided in their self-understanding by the insight that gender dysphoria doesn’t always manifest as a neon sign flashing “FIX YOUR GENDER”. For them, it can help to realize that their less specific feelings of discomfort might also be due to gender dysphoria. It can give them a possible answer to explore. It can give them hope.

But they won’t get that from uselessly opaque lists of symptoms like “discomfort” and “unhappiness”. Words like “anhedonia” and “malaise” don’t capture the detailed, visceral, day-to-day reality of this indirect dysphoria. Here, I aim to define it ostensively, with real-life examples of this dysphoria that seem broadly common to the experiences of myself and others.

Again, not all trans people will necessarily have all or any of these signs, as everyone’s gender dysphoria is different. Some people have more obviously gender-related symptoms than others. Similarly, not everyone with these signs is necessarily trans. They aren’t inherently limited to sufferers of gender dysphoria and can potentially be due to any of the other conditions previously listed, like garden-variety depression or anxiety disorders – but for some trans people, these are indeed symptoms which resolve once the dysphoria is addressed.

This is an initial attempt to feel out a phenomenon that isn’t yet widely known, named, or defined. Some trans people may recognize their experiences in this list, and others may not. But if I had known these things, it would have made my transition a lot easier. And perhaps cis people, too, can start to understand just how damaging dysphoria can be – and how important it is to treat it.

Signs of indirect gender dysphoria

1. Continual difficulty with simply getting through the day. For most of my life, everything was inexplicably stressful, and it was hard to work up the effort to do even the smallest everyday things. Going to the store, cleaning up the house, getting in the shower, any little thing people asked of me… it all just felt like too much. Even when there was no situational cause for this stress, nothing came easily to me. It was more than a mere habit of laziness – it was like I was so mentally fatigued that everything was a constant burden and a struggle.

I could force myself to get things done, but it would take a lot out of me. I would be irritable, snappish, annoyed by everything, and in anywhere from a mildly bad mood to a very bad mood almost every day. What happiness I did experience was typically short-lived and compromised by the ongoing undertone of dissatisfaction and, well, grumpiness. I didn’t like this at all. It was a constant tension, and I wished more than anything that I could find some way to relax and unwind. I didn’t want to be this way.

2. A sense of misalignment, disconnect, or estrangement from your own emotions. I was always on an unsteady footing with my feelings. As a child, I would cry almost every day at the drop of a hat. Anything could trigger it – being even mildly reprimanded, getting a wrong answer on schoolwork, the sort of insignificant things that no one else around me ever cried so frequently about. It really was abnormal, and eventually most of the people around me got pretty tired of it. It was so embarrassing and I tried to stop it because I didn’t want to cry so much, either. But I couldn’t control it.

In my teen years, this shifted: I could almost never cry at all, even when I wanted to. I would feel like crying, I would know on some level that I should be crying, but I just couldn’t make it happen. When I rarely did manage to cry, that was even worse. It was too much, and I would be overcome by it to the point of uncontrollable wailing sobs. There was no in-between, no moderate amount of tears. I cried as much at the death of a month-old pet rat as I did at my grandmother’s funeral.

And I dreaded crying, because afterward and for the next day or so, I would be smothered in this horrible feeling of emotional deadness. It felt like my head was full of concrete, like my consciousness was trying to wade through molasses, and it was a feeling that seemed to be genuinely physical in nature. It seemed as though my brain simply ran out of whatever fueled my ability to feel anything at all – like I had no emotions left. There was no way to “get over it” or force myself to perk up, I just had to wait it out. I resented anyone or anything that made me cry. I feared the awful choking numbness that was bound to happen next time.

3. A feeling of just going through the motions in everyday life, as if you’re always reading from a script. Everything always seemed like it was somehow less real than it ought to be. I didn’t feel like I was my own person – I had no sense of myself as someone who could make my own choices and decisions as I wished. I often lacked that internal initiative that wants things and seeks things for no reason other than the fact that you simply want them and that’s that. I didn’t even think of that kind of wanting as a feeling I was capable of – there was just no drive for it.

In the absence of a well-defined identity and a strong sense of self-direction, other people’s obligations filled the void. Since I didn’t want to do anything, I just did whatever was expected of me and said whatever was expected of me. That was all I ever did. I felt like an actor, being handed my lines by someone else, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than that. I didn’t know I should be anything other than that. I often thought of wanting to tear my face off to see if there was anything real underneath.

4. A seeming pointlessness to your life, and no sense of any real meaning or ultimate purpose. Even when I did find things to do that I vaguely enjoyed, it still felt like I was just killing time. Each day was like checking off a box, knowing that eventually the days would run out, but not really knowing how else to spend the time. When I worked on things, there wasn’t any higher sense of eventually working toward anything.

You live for a while, and then you die, and that’s that. I didn’t think there was anything else to life. So why bother with any real long-term goals? When I did set goals for myself, it was just for the sake of it – not because I was motivated by any purpose that I genuinely cared about. Nothing made me feel truly fulfilled, like I was accomplishing anything meaningful. So why bother?

5. Knowing you’re somehow different from everyone else, and wishing you could be normal like them. I often wondered how other kids could just go about their lives, talking and laughing and being so calm and happy, like nothing was wrong. I don’t know what I really expected of them – I didn’t have the vaguest idea of what was “wrong”, either. I didn’t know why I felt so anxious all the time, I just did. I had no idea why the rest of the world didn’t feel the same way, and I wanted to know what that was like.

It felt like my mind was constantly talking to itself without any interruption, and it was overanalyzing everything around me. Some second, parallel existence seemed to be running alongside my direct experience of consciousness: an inner monologue of sorts, but a very toxic one. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything – it was as though this loud voice in my head kept me from simply existing in the moment.

There was no way to shut off that voice and just be, like everyone else. I wanted those two sides to line up and merge so I could feel natural and at ease too. But it wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard I tried. There always seemed to be some invisible skin separating me from the rest of reality – I could move around in the real world, interact with it, but never actually touch it or feel it.

6. A notable escalation in the severity of these symptoms during puberty. Around 12 or 13, things really started going downhill for me. While it was already difficult to cope with school, friends, and a troubled home life, I was able to handle it before the onset of puberty. Not anymore. For a few years, my emotions weren’t just blunted or dysfunctional – they went missing almost entirely. I felt nothing, day in and day out. And each day was the same, a robotic routine of just waiting for the time to pass. I couldn’t even force myself to care about anything. This, too, felt like a truly physical thing that I couldn’t fight.

I knew I was failing every class, and it just didn’t matter to me. I handed in blank tests without a care in the world. I was fully aware of what the long-term consequences would be, but none of it seemed real. I’d already hit bottom – nothing could make it any worse. I couldn’t bring myself to get anything done no matter how much anyone lectured or threatened or punished me.

They told me I was throwing away my future – I didn’t even see any problem with that. What future? Why did anyone care about me? I sure didn’t. My parents withdrew me after sophomore year because there was no point to keeping someone in school who just didn’t do anything. So I stayed indoors like a hermit for most of my teen years, and didn’t do anything there, either.

7. Attempting to fix this on your own through various coping mechanisms. I often wondered whether some substance, like cannabis, was what I needed to loosen up and finally relax. I tried that. I tried drinking, I tried Vicodin, I even tried nootropics like piracetam, all of it in the hopes that it could improve my mood and make life feel easier. I wanted to find something, anything, that would be the key to repairing what I increasingly saw as the broken parts of myself. Some of it helped for a short while, thought not significantly. By no means did it “fix” me in any meaningful sense – it took my mind off things for a bit, but the problem was still there.

When none of that worked, I tried to train my mind to shy away instinctively from negative thoughts so that I wouldn’t spiral off into depressive ruminations as I had for most of my teen years. This was mostly successful, and it wasn’t a bad idea by any means, though the fundamental unhappiness and anxiety remained. I figured all I could do was ignore it as much as possible and focus on whatever positives I could find – I gave up hope of ever truly fixing this.

8. Substantial resolution of these symptoms in a very obvious way upon transitioning, particularly upon initiating HRT. While this is somewhat of a diagnosis-by-treatment, this is what makes it clear that these difficulties are indeed specifically gender-related, and not due to other conditions. If we’re fortunate, then one way or another, we eventually start to pick up on our own personal hints that lead us in the direction of reconsidering our gender. And at a certain point in the process, we begin to realize that this might be what we’ve been searching for all our lives.

For me, as I transitioned a little, it helped a little. When I presented in a feminine way and took on a feminine identity, I started to come into my own and take shape as a real person. I began to steer my life in a direction that I wanted. It was easier to have goals and things I derived satisfaction from, and this encouraged me to start caring about myself more. I was able to fall in love and have a real relationship for the first time – something I never saw the point of before, and had resigned myself to doing without.

Still, my general sense of discomfort and irritability remained, and it kept making my life difficult. I was tired of feeling bad every single day. But as it turned out, when I transitioned a lot, it helped a lot. Once I started HRT, the effect was immediate: these symptoms totally dissipated. It was such a stark difference, it became clear that what I’d been suffering before likely was indeed physical and chemical in nature. I could tell it had been gender dysphoria, because it just wasn’t there anymore once I received the treatment for gender dysphoria.

Now, I could actually relax – it was so amazing to be truly calm for the first time in my life. And it lasted, and there was no more pain to hide. I could cry and feel good afterward, as if it replenished me rather than draining me of emotion. It was possible to feel things in all their detail and depth and texture, rather than being limited to either numbness or emotional overload. The skin of separation was gone, and life was a breeze: I was just happy, all day, without constantly intrusive thoughts distracting me and separating me from the world. I can truly care about everything I choose to work towards, because it matters now. I’m the normal person I always wanted to be, and I can get on with simply living.

Finally, I was a whole human being. Nothing was wrong and nothing was missing anymore. I found what I was looking for, and it gave me back the life that dysphoria had taken from me.

Again, these signs aren’t shared by all trans people – every person’s dysphoria is a little different, and transitioning can have differing effects on us. But it seems that a significant portion of trans people, whether their dysphoria is clearly gender-related or more subtle, report having feelings similar to these. If you’ve been reevaluating your gender, and these experiences seem relatable to you, it may be worth considering that this could be gender dysphoria – and that it’s potentially treatable.

Note, March 2014: Please also see my followup post on my later experience of being diagnosed with depression after transitioning.

[b-blushes]

oh yeah i keep meaning to ask about this and keep forgetting, but does anyone have any advice or just, like, thoughts about this? I am disabled. As such, i'm only really able to leave the house once a week, or do one big activity at home once per week. If i do more than that, i become too unwell to keep on top of my housework, and then snowball into Even Worse Health. the problem is that, despite only having one friend that lives locally, and only hanging out with family other than that, i'm somehow 'booked', like, 6 weeks in advance when you factor in stuff like haircuts, medical stuff, any errands that i need to do personally, or things that just come up. this means that i'm a) pretty much always working at about 95% of my capability because i'm doing as much as i can pretty much all the time. that means that it does not take much to tip me over the edge into various types of even more ill health. b) So Scheduled!!! i almost never have enough 'free' time to do anything on a whim, because I have to make sure i keep enough health capacity to keep to my arranged Events. on one hand this is a lucky position to be in, on the other hand it means that i'm just 'getting through' each thing that i can just scrape through with just enough energy, and resting is also mandatory and scheduled so i feel extremely trapped there. c) because i'm able to do so 'little', it also gives me almost no wiggle room for working on physical therapy. I have been prioritising "life with other people" over "physical therapy progression (alone at home), which may increase stamina long-term but means i can't do other stuff short-term, because that takes the activity slot of a 'leaving the house activity". my fitness and strength is extremely down because i just have not had the capacity to do housework, and fun but also medical/other activities, AND for example cardio, without getting so fatigued to the point of injury. hate that for me. I don't think that it's especially 'good' to always be, like, 'getting through' and working so close to things being Too Much, although i'm so so glad that i often have a couple of times a month where i am doing a planned nice event! (instead of having nothing nice with other people planned, and only doing medical stuff or stuff by myself). I'm feeling that it's been quite bad for my mental health also to be working at close to full capacity all the time, so i feel constantly nearly at my limit but also not feeling fulfilled because i'm *just* managing to stay on top of everything and cope. So it's as if i'm having to really really search for the good bits because i am almost always just moving from one rest period in the day through a short chunk of activity to the next rest period in the day. wow this is really hard to express! it feels as if i'm explaining a non-problem somehow! I am struggling to problem-solve this! and i know i have lots of disabled friends on here, so i am wondering if there is something obvious i'm missing, or if there is no easy fix. Perhaps it is the whole 'being disabled means you are disabled' thing, and the problem is not my time management or approach to life, but just that i have multiple conditions which all significantly impact my ability to do daily tasks, so there is no 'trying really hard to problem solve or fix it'. Maybe the best thing to do is schedule in a 'free' week per month, where i don't have any plans, so i can pick whatever i like (or just do nothing!!!) for one of my weekly 'activity' slots each month? The downside of that is that that will mean i'm 'booked' even further in advance, and means i will be seeing less of my friend and family. But maybe that sounds smart? Wondering if anyone else is in a similar situation? Or has any thoughts?

[seasonal-writes]

2023 Writing Round-Up

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you’re most excited about. my beloved mutual @canarydarity tagged me in this. thank you for the tag, worm! this was really fun :D p.s. almost every fic in here is team rancher. and almost all of it is shipping. so i am not going to make my bias so obvious by labeling them, i will simply make not of the ONE that is not team rancher. i'm mentally unwell about them and the bias has not gone away. so just a fair warning. &lt;3

January

"bruised / cuts" // 1,347 words "small / cuts" // 1,897 words

'jimmy and tango are in love and clumsy, usually resulting in minor injuries. these are their stories.

dUN DUN-' "19% touch starved and 91% in denial" // 2,551 words

'a short fic in which jimmy is touch-starved, and his new soulmate, tango, is the furthest thing from it.' "old heartbeats die hard" // scarian // 1,413 words

'Did you know that listening to someone’s heartbeat can have a calming effect on your own heart and breathing pattern? Grian knows this. And he knows it’s working right now, even if it’s not enough to lull him to sleep quite yet. Though, there is still relief in knowing that one is still thumping away in Scar’s chest. Its pace is still fresh and lively and steady, just how he likes it— even if he’d never say something like that out loud.' "When Fate Finds Golden Rings" (ongoing, originally published in late january) // 65,044 words as of the last current update in mid-july.

'Being a prince comes with many things. Reputation, politics..even war, if one isn't careful.

When the Kingdom of the Overworld's alliance with the Nether grows tense, there is only one way to repair it, and it lies within the hands of two princes—arranged to be married to end a fight that simmers hot between the two planes.

But when Heir-to-the-throne Tango would rather stay at odds than follow through, and the the youngest Prince Jimmy finds no way for a wedding to solve anything, how can they bite back their gripe and fulfill their responsibilities?

How do you fight a destiny that's forged in gold? (or, a Ranchers Royalty AU. Take two.)'

February

"i ain't ever liked sweets (till you sugar-coated my teeth)" // 2,556 words

'a short, fluffy, plotless valentine's day rancher duo one-shot! :D'

March - June

these few months, i worked on personal projects and was in the thick of Golden Rings updates. so, nothing too exciting!

July

"how do you talk to a star?" // 1,285 words 'jimmy is in love with tango. he does not plan on telling him.' also, the last update i did on golden rings. maybe someday i'll get back to it, akfdjs

August - December

more personal projects! i had a few new AUs i never quite debuted that i created and cultivated with friends, wrote a little for them--but they weren't really enough to post, so. and that's all for the year! i appreciate everyone who's stuck around this long, even with my inactivity the past few months. i am hoping that with the new year, there will come new motivation to get back into it. posting all my little stories and ideas have both helped me realize i really am beyond in love with writing, AND i made lots of new friends along the way. :D been a pretty cool time! no pressure tag: @hitheeprithee! let me see your words, boy. thanks for reading, as always. :) <3 till next time.

[logolepsy-babble]

I Finished The Sun and The Star

and it took me a few months to finish. As an annotator, I decided I wanted to share some annotations.

content warning: i talk about Luke and suicide

To all the Nicos, Wills, Pipers, and everyone in between: this is for you./May you shine as bright as the sun and the stars.

I 🖤 you.

Key: giggles cute Darius, you asshole. I am crying, this is not muy feliz THE PLOT?! IS PLOTTING?!/Quotes

Nico bristled at that. A story? Any old story? That seemed too easy after everything they’d been through.

“Bristled” ugh, I wanna eat this book

Nico’s stomach rolled. The gauze strips were soaked through with blood again.

THE WRITING IS SO GOOD???

“Tell me about the two of you,” she said.

Black cat X Golden retriever

Depressed X Mentally unwell but well hidden

Couple goals.

3.141

Why is it pi

(There is nothing more disconcerting than walking in the morning and finding a freshly incarnated zombie standing over you, ready to take your breakfast order.)

Doesn’t seem that odd.

As soon as Jason set him down that day, Nico had barked, Don’t ever grab me again./Now, staring at the unnerving bust of Diocletian, Nico wished for nothing more than to feel Jason Grace’s protective arms around him. But Jason wasn’t here.

:(

The smoke had a bitter, sulfuric smell, and Nico, Will, and Chiron all started coughing.

Though I knew it was profetic I still thought Leo did smth.

“So, you’ve basically become like one of those annoying notifications in a video game reminding me to complete a side mission.”

Since when did Nico play video games?

“I’m telling you,” said Nico, “you won’t need half that stuff on the journey.”/“We’ll see about—“ Will began, and then something toppled out of his bag and smacked him in the face. “Ow!”/Nico restrained himself, because he knew laughing wouldn’t make the situation better, even though it was very, very funny.

Romance never dies with Solangelo.

“I love Golden Oreos, for starters.”/“Oh, please. That’s obvious. They’re basically the Apollo’s version of an Oreo anyway.”/“And the morally superior choice.”

Excuse me?

this Percabeth pep talk

LMAO

“We met…way before the Battle of Manhattan, actually,” said Will, leaning against Nico.

We better see this in the TV series. Rick.

Nico didn’t want to ask what was wrong. He already knew the answer. Still, the words spilled from his mouth. “Hey! Where’s my sister?”

I’m not ready for this scene to be in the series.

curly blond mane

is he a horse

was moot now.

please use 21st century words

But what had made this one ability materialize at that particular moment? Fear? Desperation?

bisexuality

It was a constant pattern for Nico: find some sort of solace and comfort,

Nico Will find Solace in someone.

Now here was Solace in his lap, sleeping like a baby.

Will is Nico’s Solace, what he’s needed.

“At least I had the foresight to find Hermes attractive.”/“Hermes? Are you kidding me? Who goes for Hermes?”/“I do,” said Will./“Wow, you really do like underdogs,” muttered Nico./…said Nico, but then he shook his head at Will. “Hermes.”/“I thought this was a safe place,” Will said, smiling.

Lin Manuel Miranda guys

well, he’s been different.”

“I can fix him” said Menoetes.

Or Luke.”

Killing himself doesn’t make him better.

Will stuffed one pomegranate into Nico’s jacket pocket, then slipped the other two into pockets on his own shorts./“Oh my gods,” said Nico. “I can’t believe your cargo shorts are coming in handy.”/Will beamed. “I told you so.”

Men. ☕️

-

Why does this series get gayer as it goes on? Is it because we went from straight man to queer?? (Not complaining)

Was Nico envious of the bull-man?

I did not think I’d read that. Ever.

Nico reached in the pocket of his jeans. He took out the coin, running his fingers over the embossing until he’d traced every bit of it./“You brought my gift,” said Will, smile lines crinkling around his eyes. “Great minds think alike.”/He reached inside the collar of his shirt and pulled out his gold chain./On it glinted Nico’s ring.

I love my skrunklies 🖤

“Not when [shorts] don’t protect you in a fall!”

Okay but they’re comf

“Acid dissolving in your bones spicy,”

What my mom thinks pepper is

“I let you kill Octavian.

Technically, that was Leo 🤓☝️

I’m sorry, Nico, he thought. I’m sorry I let you down.

This is so sad, pookie

Were they eating each other?

were they WHAT?!

i’m not writing it all but page 328 entirely.

Darius, this is “HEALING”?!

Nico smiled. “I’ll be right there with you.”/That seemed to be enough for Will. He closed the distance between them and planted a kiss on Nico’s lips./“Together,” he said./“Together,” Nico whispered.

They might have an obsession with kissing.

He was finally ready to admit that wearing shorts had not been the brightest idea.

me after wearing shorts in 53*F weather

Chapter 37

I want Nico to meet the Kanes and Egyptian Gods. Please.

Bartholomew!

No, your mama must’ve hated you to give you that name

I’m gonna find so many bones that my bones will have bones!”

I don’t think.. that’s how that…

“You don’t have a choice!” the aeterna bellowed. “If you don’t kill me, I’ll eat you both!”

What kind of suicide mission???

Page 365

Shit balls.

“Nico,” she said, “you should finally meet your children.”

Solangelo parents AU??

He gave his enemy hay fever.

WHAT? and then this picture of a jaw dropped emoji

End of book, page 462

Okay. That was healing.

Maybe the reason Nico isn’t 100% himself is because he’s healing :)

[trickstarbrave]

it actually really does suck that i am deeply mentally and physically unwell like my mother but the only reason i am treated with dignity and respect in medical spaces even part of the time is i have by and large given up on trying to treat chronic conditions until they become too unbearable on my own, try really hard to suppress all of my symptoms even when i am in immense pain and serious distress, and dress like a modest victorian girl of marriageable age. i dont do anything with my hair thats too bright or obnoxious it stays natural colors lately, i dont have exceptional piercings, and i currently have 0 tattoos.

meanwhile people like my mom who dress alt and cant suppress their symptoms get nearly killed by medical professions who assume because she has obvious mental disorders she is lying and has a substance abuse problems (shes been clean for years from drugs except medically prescribed marijuana and painkillers and also doesnt even drink anymore because it makes her violently ill).

people shouldnt have to live like me and have an insanely high pain tolerance and practice day and night at being a normal polite human being through sheer force of will and use reverse psychology on doctors to have even a chance of being actually treated for their conditions. but doctors insist they gotta root out horrible ugly fakers and druggies who [checks notes] dye their hair at home

[tendertendrils1]

Someone asked me some great questions about R&R Ravio on Ao3 and I wrote an entire essay in response. It seems a shame for it to languish there, so it's getting chucked to the tumblr void as well!

I'm paraphrasing the questions but they were, roughly:

Is the relationship emotionally fulfilling for Ravio too?

Does Ravio have self-worth issues like Link does?

And whether he gets nervous when trying new things with Link/if he's always been nervous.

Readmore for length, minor spoilers, and non-explicit mentions of sex.

Some of this I'd already thought about and decided on, some of it I am winging and reserve the right to possibly change my mind on later.

Ravio is nervous in general and was at the start of their relationship too! He hid behind the hood and the exaggerated persona we see so much of in the game. Part of his development has been opening up and letting Link see him, both figuratively and literally. He has actually gained a lot of confidence over the course of the series. Putting the hood on during a rough sex scene is a tool for him and his mental state in the same way some of the toys he uses on Link are tools to help Link get into the right mindset. So some of his nerves come from when he's trying not to lean on those tools, or like the first time they had sex where Link could actually see his face: he was very nervous then. He's usually not nervous about introducing new kinky things because he's good at reading people in general and increasingly Link in particular. He's a salesman at heart; he knows how to present things so they'll appeal to the person he's talking to. He's got a pretty solid idea now on the kinds of things Link likes, what he'll tolerate, and what Link might be nervous about but will probably enjoy anyway. There are some things he hasn't wanted to risk trying, though.

Their relationship is emotionally fulfilling for him too! He does find great satisfaction in their sex life. He likes the control. It's an ego boost to be able to do those things to THE HERO, and successfully navigating Link's emotions and physical reactions so they both come away satisfied makes him feel very good about himself. It's manipulation in a way that he can feel good about! But as anyone wise will tell you, caretakers sometimes need people to lean on too. Ravio asking for gentle sex is him expressing a need that isn't getting entirely fulfilled. It's something they will continue to work on so Ravio can be happy in the relationship long-term. Link being okay with visiting Lorule and going with Ravio was one little example of the ways Link can be supportive of Ravio in return. As time goes on and Ravio continues to open up about himself, Link will keep discovering other ways he can contribute to Ravio's emotional well-being. Ravio's traumas are a little less obvious than Link's in part because of the point of view and in part because his are older and he's had more time to deal with them, but they are present and they will likely start to come out more over time. So in a way, yes, for now he is taking on the larger emotional load of the two of them, but I believe that is true of nearly anyone who is in a relationship with someone who is unwell in the way Link is unwell. That doesn't mean it will stay that way, or that he's not getting enough out of it even now to be happy.

Ravio's primary self-worth issue comes from him actually thinking of himself a coward. (He berates himself for leaving Lorule to get help, for example, even though it worked out and both Hilda and Zelda have told him he made the right choice. And all involved have acknowledged how difficult that choice was.) He also knows that some of the things he's good at (i.e. manipulation) can be pretty sleazy. He's done plenty of less than moral things in his life to survive. But he considers himself worthy of love, and he's found ways to make at least some peace with his talents. So that's a 50/50 on the self worth issues. More on this one TBD.

[druidgroves]

ok here it is my whisper/deacon brain rot for their web weaving is under the cut. i'm mentally unwell about them.

1. trust no one

this one is pretty obvious. it's deacon's first and favorite lesson. little does he know that after coming out of vault 111, it was greta's modus operandi as well.

2. vulnerability is the last thing i want you to see in me, but the first thing i look for in you.

this quote was more deacon-focused, but it does apply to both of them. upon "first" meeting (that was face to face), deacon is still looking for any signs of cracking in whatever façade greta has created for herself by this point. he wants to pick people apart, but makes sure that no one can do the same to him. for greta, she isn't too great at emotions after being thawed out (she became a lot more withdrawn in that department, despite pretending to be an open book). she'll make sure she can pinpoint your vulnerabilities before you're even aware of them, just so you don't notice her own.

3. i don't understand your specific kind of crazy but i do admire your total dedication to it

this is peak whisper/deacon while doing shit for the railroad. they work together extremely well, in part due to whisper's career as a spy before the bombs (of which deacon has no idea about but he has Suspicions). a big part of their relationship is trying to outdo the other, constant one-upmanship; who can tell the most outlandish lies, put on the most well-crafted personas, or pull off the wildest stunt while clearing the way for safehouses. they are both insane.

4. i want to take a bite out of you, figure out what you're thinking

while working together, they obviously get to know each other--or they get to know as much of each other as they are willing to show. it's both fun and frustrating for them with neither wanting to fully give.

5. our eyes had the most devilish affair; meeting in secrecy in a room full of people.

these two dance around their feelings like they're legally obligated to, but they'll just say that neither of them have done anything about it because of "anti-fraternization" rules put in place by their fearless leader.

6. the nonsense has escalated

this was there purely because their nonsense (feelings) escalates. that's it.

7. the great pretender

i always see this as a deacon song But it fits both of them. they are both extremely lonely people in similar and different ways and put on different masks to compensate.

8. not because i don't trust you, but because i can't bare for you to see me as i really am.

another one showing how much they share and how much they don't. at this point in their story, greta has come clean about a lot of stuff: her real name, her career as a spy, looking for a son she isn't even sure she wants to find, as well as her familial connections to the calverts (who i argue could be partially to blame for the way the war went tbh). she has always lived with a lot of self-loathing and that's part of why she is the way she is, putting on different personas to hide the fact that she hates who she is. for deacon, this is when he tells her about the up deathclaws, about barbara, and about joining the railroad. they finally get to see the other's vulnerabilities.

9. sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.

in trying to understand each other, seeing each other's ugliest parts, they find that they might never understand each other completely. it doesn't quite drive a wedge between them as much as things are a little awkward between two people allergic to talking about their emotions.

10. how to disappear completely and never be found

so deacon talks about wanting to "bug out" and leave sometimes, but in this case, greta is the one who bounces after destroying the institute. she's got a lot to deal with internally and needs her space to process.

11. an exercise in love: i have left the door unlocked, just in case

deacon won't admit it, but he's always on the lookout for her after she disappears. he listens for her laugh, the sound of deliverer, anything, but she doesn't show for a while. but if he knows anything about his whisper, she'll come back again, and he'll be there waiting.

[mizuta]

far from it to be my style to post about hashtag mental health issues on main but like. look. ive& been psychotic as far back as i can tangibly remember (hallucinating at 10-11, cognitive symptoms and episodes by 13-14). its been a part of my life so long that like... in a lot of ways im used to it and coping with symptoms and my life grew around a lot of the symptoms. like a tree trunk growing around a foreign object as a sapling. something that pierces directly through the middle but doesnt really impact the trees ability to stay alive in any meaningful way.

so like in a lot of ways im used to being in my own head. my partner is good at recognizing that things that are distressing to me in episodes dont process whatsoever as distressing to me a good chunk of the time. when im acting visibly distressed it actually means my level of distress is at like, 200%. its fucking unmanageable. if im visibly distressed its worse than anyone could conceptualize because typically otherwise im just numb to a lot of it or its just default my reality that its not distressing in any meaningful way until after the fact.

but like im ngl just because ive spent all of my teenage years upwards trying to take up literally the least space possible to exist and never show 80% of my "unacceptable" symptoms to 99% of people does not mean it makes it any less uncomfortable or awkward to like. be the token psychotic in some groups. to have to be the buzzkill and shit thats like hey sorry heres my hyperspecific request of the year because im fucking insane.

its miserable in a fresh new way of like sorry to have to remind everyone that its not actually a funny character quirk or joke my brain literally does not exist in your 'reality' in any meaningful way and the further outside of it i am on a given day the more unpleasant youre going to find me to be around. ignoring the insane person talking aimlessly in public doesnt actually help me it usually just reinforces that youre not real and never will be if its a bad enough day.

its never intentional. like nobody is ever doing this on purpose. especially again because i spent so much of my life being very good at hiding it. but like... it sucks so much to be masking half the time and be a little too good at it so when you stop being able to people are always levels of uncomfortable or upset. it sucks when you cant articulate anything properly and nobody really knows how to understand what youre asking for. it sucks when you have multiple severe memory conditions and cant trust your own memory and everyone immediately questions your memory when you ask for anything or point anything out. like of course im just going to fucking fold.

i dont know where im going with this or if this itself is even that coherent i know it sounds super vague but it really isnt about anyone specific im just babbling about like years worth of garbage. i got so fucked over by fakeclaiming culture because unfortunately when i started really displaying symptoms i was a teenager trying not to kill himself and being fucking insane loudly in virtual public when that was apparently an "obvious sign of exaggerating" so i had to learn to shut the fuck up and now everybody loves to forget how much im fucking unwell because god forbid you think too hard about what youre saying around others.

thank god for my partner who is literally the first person in my entire life whos ever tried to understand and genuinely knows how to talk to me when im in a particularly bad delusion or hallucinating or whatever.

man. im tired. i found out this last month i probably need to get a cane when i move out and i still feel like im going to be appropriating shit because severe knee and upper leg paint and severe balance problems cant be that bad. i hate having memory problems so bad that i so easily can be told that i dont know shit and Y is actually what happened and i usually cant actually argue against it even if im so sure thats not true.

[dhaaruni]

Hi! Hope you’re having a good day - mines been pretty shit tbh so if the tone of this is dumb I’m sorry and it’s also very long and rambling so feel free to ignore but I’m just kind of shocked to see you defend being bdsm (aka being against the sexualisation of abuse and violence particularly against women)?

Like ‘what a man does in the privacy of his own home is his own business’ has always been peoples response to mens abuse. I just don’t understand how is it not incredibly fucked to get off on abuse? How is the physical damage done when strangling/beating/hurting someone in one of the millions of ways people (men) hurt each other (women) different when done consensually? If my boyfriend hits me during sex why is it a big deal if he does it during an argument if he didn’t even hit me as hard during the argument as he did in bed? What if he strangled me in bed (something that could kill me and is one of the biggest indicators that a man will kill you) then hitting me isn’t actually that bad in comparison considering the level of harm. What is the difference between ‘after care’ and bringing your girlfriend flowers after hitting her? How does it not create the same trauma bond? A lot of people into bdsm make it very clear that they are mentally unwell (not judging, I am too just different poor coping mechanisms) and I just don’t see how being a masochist different from self harm. How is bdsm not the biggest example of rape culture? How can you recognise the patriarchy’s influence on so many womens choices but not the choice to want to submit sexuality? How are teen girls supposed to cope with their boyfriends literally wanting to beat and rape them but all the adult sources around them are telling them thats totally normal and not dangerous they just need to consent? Because teenage girls are amazing at enforcing their boundaries and totally don’t give in to peer pressure or do things they don’t want to do for male approval. How are you meant to break up with a man who you know enjoys and is capable of beating and raping you?

TLDR : I’m just trying to understand your perspective because it seems very contradictory to your other views like being against rape, violence against women, anti racist, anti incest ect. just everything that bdsm sexualises and normalises

No you're all good, I don't mind answering lol. I'm not letting this be reblogged for obvious reasons though.

I completely agree with you in that societally speaking, BDSM is constantly used to excuse violence against women and it's really fucked up to get off on hurting others, and any man that says they're into BDSM on principle should likely be in jail.

That said, I also think that in the context of consensual romantic sexual relationships between adults, it's possible to enjoy certain things on occasion that aren't super vanilla on principle. And, I'm not really talking about hookups here, I'm talking long-term relationships with people you trust lol. I'm also not giving teenagers sex advice and I think "blowjobs are empowering" feminism that young millennials and Gen Z was raised on did more harm than good to our perceptions of healthy sexuality, but the rumors are true: I, an unmarried adult woman, enjoy sex with people I romantically like and trust as people lmao.

But to clarify, I'm really not a proponent of anything truly extreme, and I'm extremely intentional about setting boundaries and if anybody crosses them, they get blocked and banned for life. I'm generally cool with trying sex positions, but both parties always have veto privileges if something is painful or uncomfortable or simply not enjoyable. And personally, anything involving metal, spanking or hitting, choking, etc. are all total no-gos for me and I will never be swayed on that. A light hand on the neck is not remotely the same thing as asphyxiation, and to even get to that point, I need to trust the guy.

And, I would never trust let alone fuck a guy who can't get off without that stuff! My point is that it's okay to try things out, whether that's basic kink or weird sex positions that you fall out of and laugh at yourselves, not what you do every single time you have sex. If a guy whines about women being boring in bed or "vanilla," kick the man to the curb lmao.

All that said, I would never tell women they're bad people if they are against stuff I'm personally comfortable with. My point is just that sex isn't like a cut and dry thing, and it's really healthy to communicate and discuss what you like and don't like with your partner.

Does that make sense lol?