#even if I don't actually do much with it or have much

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[sugarwarachan]

(･ω･)つ andy's notes: megumi fushiguro when you have a bf he hates. cws: all characters 20+, mild smut, afab!reader, mdni

bsf!megumi who's never once admitted to his years-long crush on you, no matter how many times yuuji and nobara tease him over it.

bsf!megumi who might have convinced himself that he's perfectly content loving you from a distance, but every night he dreams of you in his arms.

bsf!megumi who can normally hold his composure suddenly having to excuse himself from the room whenever you hang out to address the raging cockstand in his pants.

bsf!megumi whose stomach sinks when you start dating someone.

bsf!megumi who hates your scummy boyfriend so much that he actually starts to hate you. why don't you understand that you deserve better? how are you so blinded by pretty words?

bsf!megumi who knows he won't be able to stop himself from saying something so he just avoids you altogether.

bsf!megumi who gets cornered into confronting you by nobara (she grew bored of the moping). he does his best not to notice how beautiful you look, but it's the first thing his eyes take in. he's missed you so much it's like a sucker punch to the gut.

bsf!megumi who does his best not to grin like an idiot when you tell him you dumped that loser. "about time you kicked him to the curb," he says, eyes fixed on the gentle pout of your lips. you roll your eyes at his response, and he knows he's been an immature asshole for avoiding you, but now that he's confronted by the reality of confessing his feelings, he's scared shitless.

bsf!megumi who thinks it should be so simple to say "I've loved you for years," but the words feel inadequate compared to the space you consume in his heart.

bsf!megumi who can't help but laugh when you say, "I come all this way to tell you I left that guy and you won't even make a move?"

bsf!megumi who groans against your mouth when he kisses you, cupping your jaw with one hand and running the other in between your shoulder blades. his mind fuzzes out when your tongues clash, the kiss devolving into a mess of teeth and spit as he wrestles you closer to him

bsf!megumi who loves how responsive you are. "he ever make you feel this good?" he asks as he licks a filthy stripe down your neck, biting at your collarbone and roughly squeezing your tit through your shirt. "didn't touch you as well as your best friend does, huh?"

bsf!megumi who mixes rough and sweet so well, bullying his cock into your quivering hole with rocking strokes before sliding all the way in. "fuck, rolling your eyes back in your head already, baby? i haven't even gotten started." (like father like son)

bsf!megumi who is a fucking menace determined to make you cum as many times as possible to make up for lost time.

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works. masterlist here. divider by @saradika-graphics

[the-cats-noodles]

Everytime I see this, everytime, someone brings up marriage as an exception and I can't help but think, really?

I get it, promises are important (to death do us part, which is in and of itself an unrealistic standard but whatever i dont have time to talk abt that) but I feel like people forget that marriage for love is relatively recent? The point of marriage being to join households and pass on property is much older (and the origin of the whole "only death can make us separate" bc property and inheritance) like, the reason people stayed together was bc of duty not love and that was a very different environment than the one now (which is good) but it still means we're talking about a standard that is unrealistic in our current environment (not to mention the insane amount of murder over not being able to get divorced in the past, like it's a very good thing we can end marriages now)

There's nothing wrong with marrying someone and wanting to stay with them forever (we chose to do this for love and that was good actually), but can we stop pretending this idea is universal?

Making a promise is all well and good, but people change and their promises do too.

Like, yes you keep growing as you get older and yes you might grow closer with your partner (and that's perfectly normal and okay) BUT you might also grow apart and that is ALSO PERFECTLY OKAY

Saying that marriage is something to exclude from the idea of decentering permanence is kinda ignoring all the people who really shouldn't be staying together but "have" to (for the kids, reputation, etc) and anybody involved definitely feels that dynamic shift...

Just, yeah "keep your promises" but also know that breaking them is a part of life and its much better for both parties if you break a promise instead of wither away trying to uphold it for some perceived sense of duty or obligation to people whose opinions literally DO NOT matter

(If you wanna be with one person forever? great! If they don't agree bc they don't love you anymore? Oh well, tough luck, I guarantee you'll be better off letting them go then forcing them to stay in a legal contract, which is what marriage becomes when you don't feel love for the other party anymore)

Also I get most people don't want to force someone to stay in a situation that makes them miserable, at least I really hope they don't, but when (as a society) we place more importance on the whole 'till death do us part' bit and less on the 'I love you and want to show it' (or even say the only way to show it is to hold onto that person forever) then it kinda forces people into this idea of "having" to stay

And look, counseling is great, it can work wonders, but it is NOT a miracle worker. It can't fix everything and it doesn't have to bc A LOT of marriages aren't broken they're just fizzling out

Am I making any sense? Who knows, but I was raised in a community where ending a marriage or relationship was worse than cheating bc "marriages are work"

They are, but you also retire from work when it becomes a strain and you can't do it anymore. You can quit a job if it doesn't fit. I'm not saying marriage is a job, but I am saying that if we expect marriage to involve work we can expect it to reach the point where people just DONT WANT TO DO THAT ANYMORE and that's okay

I'm begging: please stop insisting marriage is different from other relationships in this regard bc it isn't. It's sweet and a wonderful experience but it's still just a love between two people and we can't expect that to be magically enough to stop the natural progression all relationships go through.

You lose friends over time but some stay around. You lose family over time (like, no contact in this case not necessarily through death) but some stay around. You lose lovers and partners over time but some stay around. And that's okay, u just don't see how the last one is somehow expected to have more weight.

(Which I believe was op's point? That they're all temporary and that's a good thing actually)

Like everything is temporary, it's just sometimes that temporary lines up with our lives bc we ourselves are temporary beings, and it's okay if it does and it's okay if it doesn't.

I think a lot about how we as a culture have turned “forever” into the only acceptable definition of success.

Like… if you open a coffee shop and run it for a while and it makes you happy but then stuff gets too expensive and stressful and you want to do something else so you close it, it’s a “failed” business. If you write a book or two, then decide that you don’t actually want to keep doing that, you’re a “failed” writer. If you marry someone, and that marriage is good for a while, and then stops working and you get divorced, it’s a “failed” marriage.

The only acceptable “win condition” is “you keep doing that thing forever”. A friendship that lasts for a few years but then its time is done and you move on is considered less valuable or not a “real” friendship. A hobby that you do for a while and then are done with is a “phase” - or, alternatively, a “pity” that you don’t do that thing any more. A fandom is “dying” because people have had a lot of fun with it but are now moving on to other things.

I just think that something can be good, and also end, and that thing was still good. And it’s okay to be sad that it ended, too. But the idea that anything that ends is automatically less than this hypothetical eternal state of success… I don’t think that’s doing us any good at all.

[svelish]

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

Fuck Her Into Confidence

Warnings; g!p!billie x fem!reader, slightly insecure reader, use of pet names, safeword (didn't use it), pussy eating, rough sex, use of "Daddy", controlling, other.

Little note !!: I actually like this better than my others.

"Hmm? Can I finally fuck that sweet little pussy?"

"What? Oh my God... Is that what we're doing?"

"If you want..." Billie looked at you, back to normal. "Whatever you want. You tell me."

You blinked.

"I mean..." She pecked your lips between each word. "We don't have to. I'm also fine with this."

"You mean, you'd be... fine if we didn't do it? Like. But, isn't that what you want?"

"Obviously. Why wouldn't I want to fuck the shit out of you? Have you seen yourself?" Billie grounded her hips against yours again just to watch you squirm. "But the question is: what do you want?"

Your brows knitted for a minute, brewing with thoughts. Then in an instant, your arms were around her neck and you were kissing her like it was the end of the world.

"Is that a yes?"

"Obviously."

"Obviously?" She smiled, squeezing the sides of your neck. "You want to try again?"

You whined. Tried to look away, but she didn't let that pass. Not only because it was fun to mess with you. Push your buttons until your fears fucked off and you become a dirty sex kitten. But because she needed it just as much. Your trust. The intimacy. The freedom to be in control for once.

And she knew just what you needed. Humiliation. Praise. Being cherished. Treated like her favorite toy. The object of her obsession. To tease and play with. Ruin in she wanted to.

"Do you want to get fucked?" She asked slowly, tracing a finger across your collarbone to the strap of your bra, and dropped it down your shoulder. Your breast is a breath away from being naked.

"Yes." You breathed heavily

"Yes, what?"

"Yes. Please." Shame gritted your teeth

She clicked her tongue in disappointment and pinched your nipple. No doubt, the lace made it hurt more, but the way you cried out was delicious. "I'm sure you can do better than that, sweetheart. Want to try again?"

"Fuck. Me. Please." Your eyes burned with angry tears.

"Much better."

Your legs wobbled when she set you down. She threw you over her shoulder to lighten the mood a little. You had a heavy day. Sh didn't want you to get into this with a negative mindset.

Thankfully it worked. You laughed, carried like a sack of potatoes until she dumped you on her bed.

A fake orange candle you had insisted to buy from an overpriced hipster store flickered on her nightstand. The warm glow bounced on the black sheets. The sight of you with wild hair and a little smile pumped her up like an Olympic champion. She'd finally made it.

"Oops. One sec." She fished out her phone from her pocket to text Finneas.

"Stay away tonight." "Sorry not sorry." "Don't tell mom."

"Okay, where were..." She trailed off. You were already crawled over, and sat on your heels, unbuckling her belt. You glanced coyly under your lashes as she grinned at you. "Someone's eager."

Rolling your eyes, you close her fingers around her shaft, sticking out your tongue.

"Look at you, So—" The words died, her brain melting as you sucked her with your hot, slobbery mouth. "Oh my God..." A gluttural moan she'd never made before tipped her head back. She couldn't even care.

You whimpered and choked yourself more, using your whole body to thrust back and forth.

"Yeah. That's my good girl..." She reached for and struck your ass with her palm. Your shocked cry vibrated on her shaft, making her groan. Oh, you were so soaked through your panties already.

You struggled to focus as she teased. Tried to wiggle your butt away from her. That only got you spanked. Sharp. Once on both cheeks. Then right on your pussy. You tried to pull away.

"Don't you fucking move." She curled her fingers around your panties and pulled them aside, tracing your slick lips with a sly realization. "Oh, fuck. You've made such a mess. What's this, sweetheart? You're that fucking needy? Huh? I haven't even touched you yet."

You whined around her cock and tried to move again. Except she fisted the back of your head. You had nowhere to run. All you got was more spanking and crying as she forced you to suck.

"What a pretty little whore."

You only got wetter. She pushed the tip of her finger inside your pussy, watching your eyes go wife. Hands flew to her sides, too overwhelmed to keep going.

"Well, since you can't focus." She tossed her back and yanked down your hips, making you slide on the edge until your pussy was in front of her. She kneeled. Threw your legs over her shoulders, and kissed down your thighs. Licked the outside of your panties. Then over. Up and down.

"Oh my God. Don't... don't stop..."

"Oh, I don't plan to. You have a safe word?" She should've paused, but you were just so cute when flustered. She bit your panties and moved them further away, swiping her tongue up on your slit.

"Ohhh my God! Um. Uh... It's..." You yelped as she sucked on your clit. Knees involuntarily lifting to your chest.

"You better answer."

Your drawl came out humored and ashamed. "Potatoes..."

"Jerk." She laughed. "Way to ruin my childhood."

She climbed on top of you, something tugging her to check in. "You promise you'll say that if you don't like something?"

You nodded in a hurry and kissed her. Moaning and pushing your body up. Alright, well. That answered her question. She gave you what you wanted for a minute, caressing all over.

"Take off your bra. Let me see those titties."

"What?" Your eyes widened.

"Tits out." She wiggled her finger and pushed inside your tight warmth, curling it against your wall. You arched off the bed with a strangled cry. "Off, baby. Hurry."

You managed to do as asked. She licked her lips at your tiny nipples standing for attention. Knowing the air would be cool, she wet her finger and traced around it. You tried to manage your breathing, gaze darting at the ceiling. Savoring every second, she circled my tongue on your nipple, massaging the other between her fingers. Making your body writhe.

You must've forgotten about ger other hand. Because when she actually started to finger her, and added her thumb on your clit, you dug your nails into her shoulders and moaned off the bed. Quickly, your orgasm started to build again. Closer and closer. Almost there.

Billie slapped her clit, then stretched the skin above it, watching your pussy quiver around nothing.

"Aww, poor little thing. Look at it trying so hard to come. Did I ruin it for you?"

"You're an asshole." You kicked your legs to get up, but it didn't take too long for her to collect your ankles in one hand and push your legs up straight. She lifted your butt off the bed like a rag doll.

And then slid my fingers back in, because she could. Because she knew it made her feel like an object. And she loved the pathetic whimper you left out, hating yourself for how much you liked it.

"Good girl." She took off the rest of her clothes and threw them on the floor. "Come. Sit on my face."

"What?"

"I want your pussy on my face. Sit." Billie lied down on her back.

"Um, I don't know..." You brought your knees to your chest. "That's a little too much."

"Is it? I didn't ask." She picked you up by the hips, thigh on each side of her face. You tensed head to-to-toe, trying to get off. "Come down, y/n. Now. Give me that pussy."

"Bil—"

Billie licked up your thin lips and softly kissed your clit. Licked and kissed. Made out with it. Groaning at how delicious and sensitive it was. Hers. This was all hers.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Oh my God." You slapped the wall, your moans small and panicked, then louder as you threw your head back and let go. "Ah. Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes."

Little vixen began to ride Billie's face, moving confidently. Billie struck your ass just how you liked it, and fisted a chunk of your hips, bouncing you on her. You cried out at her stubble hurting your pussy, but came just as hard. Scraping the headboard, cum dripping down Billie's chin.

She laid you on your back and kissed your neck, rubbing her waiting cock up and down your drenched slit. You hardly noticed the new position, still floating on cloud nine. Eyes closed, ready to drift off.

Billie slapped your clit with her cock, flinching you up, and pushed her head in without warning. The sharp intake of breath for you had her smirking like a sick sadist.

"Yeah. That's it." Billie folded your knees up, bending them by your sides. You whimpered. Embarrassed she was staring at your pussy the entire time. As if she cared.

She groaned like she'd been waiting her whole life for this. Your reaction was too quiet yourself with the back of your hand and look away from her.

Just for that, she thrust deeper before you were ready.

You jerked up, smacking her chest and abs. But like a damn hypocrite, the fear turned you on.

"Oh, God. It's so big..." You whimpered, pushing her back as she tried to lean closer.

"Too fucking bad." She pinned your hands by your sides, sucking on your nipple. Not stopping her cock from going in and out. You shrilled as she bit, thrashed under her, begging and cursing as your pussy clenched already. "That's a good girl. Yeah, come for daddy. Come for daddy, baby. Good girl."

You gasped at Billie, appalled. Speechless, making her chuckle.

"You okay?" It felt like a natural moment to check in. You nodded and she pecked your nose. "Good."

"You didn't come."

"I know. Turn to your side."

Billie shifted behind you and grabbed your throat, hugging you to her chest. Your mood shifted quickly. The scared little girl back as she nudged her cock in. Curves in her perfect view. Tits and ass within easy access.

When her hand caressed your belly, you slapped it away and sucked your stomach in.

"Excuse me?" She chokes the breath out of her throat. "Did you just stop me?" She rammed you fast and nonstop. Her fingers bruising your hips from fisting a chunk. Ass jiggling on her thighs.

She grabbed your stomach roughly and sneered in your ear. "This is my body. I can do whatever the fuck I want. So if I want to grab it." She squeezed. "I'll fucking grab it. Do you understand?"

She clasped your throat to silence your yes. One bite on your neck, and you broke out in goosebumps. You yelled. Threw your hands at her back, clawing at her skin. She held you as you came. Messaging your tits. Rubbing your clit. Until you turned into a lumpy putty on the sheets.

Billie sat up with raw adrenaline.

"Get on your fours."

"I can't..."

"You can't?" She tossed you up how she wanted. Hips high. Heart-shaped ass pink with hand marks. Push your chest on the mattress, smacking your ass as you resisted. "Get the fuck down."

You stayed still, head bowed, exposing your chest and shoulders. So fucking perfect and all hers.

She spit in her hand and lubed you just in case. Buried her cock inside her again, closing her eyes. Fuck. Nothing felt better than this. Bodies were molded to fit each other. The way her cock filled every corner of your walls. You were loving it too. Dazed. You started to blubber.

"Mmm, daddy..."

"Yeah, baby. Daddy's still using you. I'm not done yet."

You moaned, sounding greedier. And fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing. Watching you be so horny for her. Panties still on as you got fucked. Shoved aside, stretched high on wide hips.

"God, that's my little fucking whore." She began to pound. Not holding back anymore. You wailed, crumbling with each thrust. Slap the sheets, stretch with your nails. She rammed harder, sweat beading on her chest, and slapped your ass hard.

She flung forward and belly-plopped.

Your legs and pussy are spasmed in tremors. With a trembling hand, you tried to cover up while she stared in aw at your post-orgasmic mess. You really were starting to sound and look broken. She chuckled and picked up your hips again, starting off slower so you could catch your breath.

She didn't want it. Tried to throw your hands behind her to stop, but she held your wrists in each hand and stretched your arms back. Holding them in the air so you couldn't use them. You tried to bend your elbows, flexed your fingers all confused, like you were solving a puzzle.

"No, sweet girl, you can't move. I got you. You're not going anywhere."

You melted at her words and instead of resisting, arching your back for more. She stilled her movements in wander, watching you move on her cock with your own slow, sensual pace.

"That's it. Oh, what a good girl. Look at you, so good. Yeah, baby. Just like that."

You tried to go faster, but couldn't do it alone. So she grabbed your hips again and picked up the pace. Spanking you, throwing your face back on the mattress. Fisted your hair and rubbed your clit to hear you scream again. You did everything in your power to crawl away.

"Where do you think you're going? Huh?" She cooed. Her hands wrapped around your panties and tugged on them, bouncing you back. She smiled at your helplessness "No, you're all mine, baby. I'll tell you when you're done. So you just stay there and take it. Take it like a good slut."

A string of pleas muffled on the sheets, you shoving your face into them. Just giving her an even better view of your ass. Her cock glistened in and out of your tight cunt.

"Is my slut going to come for me again? Huh?" She smacked your ass hard enough to sting like hell. Your high-pitched cry making her chuckle. "Huh? Do you need to cry when you come for daddy?"

"Fuck you..." Your voice broke. So that was a yes.

"Oh, you're done." She threw her body on you and trapped you under her, driving deeper this way. You had no way to move and screamed as you realized it. She covered your mouth with her hand. "Shut the fuck up and take it. You're going to take it and you're going to come like a whore."

Your tears spilled on your hand. Thighs wet with your cum. Of course, the poor girl was so overstimulated. But you wanted it. You had a safe word and wasn't using it.

She kissed your tense shoulders, going slower, but just as deep. "Shh, baby, take—Oh, fuck. Fuck, that's fucking good." She groaned in the crook of your neck as you moved your ass back on her.

She peeled away, needing to focus, and you little motherfucker giggled at her as if you knew. She couldn't believe it when you looked at her over your shoulder as if to say 'yeah, I did that to you.'

That's when she noticed the little spot of wetness on the pillow, right where your mouth was.

"Are you drooling? Aw, sweetheart. Does it feel that good?" Her voice became menacing, nails biting into your hips. Wiping your smirk right off. "Yeah? Does it feel that good? You want to come for me, baby? You want to come for daddy?" That's a good little whore, such a good girl."

"Oh my God, fuck!"

"Say it." She smirked at your failed concentration. "Say you're a dirty whore for this cock."

"No." You shook your head in defeat. Oh, you wanted to.

"Fucking say it." She growled out, fisting your hair back. Spanked your sore ass some more. She forced it out of you. You sobbed it, voice breaking, but orgasmed harder than she'd ever before.

Your screams drove her over the edge. She flipped you over and covered you with her cum. Thick and white stroked on your tits and belly as both heaved to catch their breath.

"Oh fucking hell..." Billie mumbled with a chuckle. You giggled, eyelids heavy, they both tried to do a high-five but failed miserably.

[backofthebookshelf]

It's not a controversial take necessarily -- it's just that the particular environment of AO3, where you can see how many times your fic was loaded in a browser window and where the little heart button has a different meaning than it does on every other social media site, is uniquely bad for the human brain.

For the VAST majority of history, both the history of making art generally and the history of writing fanfiction in particular, you did not get to know how many people gave your work a cursory once-over, or how many people checked your book out from the library and never read it, or how many people overheard a line of poetry and thought "huh, neat" and never did anything else. These interactions were, as they should be, completely anonymous and uncountable. Even in the pre-AO3 days of fanfiction, there was an understanding that page hit counters were kind of crap (for one thing, they would count you every time you loaded the page, and you had to load the page to check the counter, so that was incentive not to look at it that much).

Even in other artistic contexts where you do now have page hit counters on everything, they're contextualized through marketing research, not consumed as a raw value. Marketing talks about conversion rate, which is the % of people who saw something who then went on to do the thing you wanted them to do - for a business that's probably buy the thing, for a nonprofit it might be donate or sign up for a volunteer session, for a fanfiction writer it's leave a comment. At work I work with multiple major companies you have definitely heard of who spend half a million dollars and 1-3 full time employees every year on something that increases their conversion rate by 1-2%. They do this because the conversion rate on our emails is 5%, which is INSANELY high.

And yes, leaving a comment doesn't cost money, but it does cost time and energy. Writers overestimate how easy it is for people to write comments--my coworkers are out here using chatgpt to write boilerplate work emails, I can't imagine ANY of them ever leaving a comment on a work of art they enjoyed. Verbally, yes--and "in a friend discord is much closer to verbally than in a comment form--but in writing? Absolutely not.

As for kudos, I can't help but think that the "likes don't do anything, you have to reblog" culture of social media like twitter and tumblr affects that too (and yes, by the latter days of twitter I was seeing people saying that on there, because the algorithm was so broken). Kudos is essentially a like button, and like the like button on twitter that used to be a favorite button before they changed it and some people never stopped treating it like one, it has meanings for people you'll never understand. "It's just a click!" It is a symbol with vague connotations but no specific universally agreed upon meaning; it tells you how many people clicked on that button, and that's all.

So yes, actually, I guess I am saying that as a writer, you are supposed to assume that many more people liked your fic than you will ever hear from or even know about. And that's a good thing! You have the chance to touch someone's life even though they have no idea who you are and don't think of you as a person so much as a semi-mythical figure called "the author". And that's part of the magic, to me, of creating things. You pour yourself into a thing and then you set it loose into the world and you hope it means to someone else as much as it meant to you. Sometimes, very rarely, someone will tell you so, and that's amazing, I'm not going to pretend it's not, but you have to have enough faith in yourself to believe it happens whether you hear about it or not.

I really don't understand how "without getting kudos or comments a fanfiction author is going to assume that people who clicked their fic didn't like it" became a controversial take.

I don't know why some people think an author should imagine, or guess that people who click their fic enjoyed it it when nobody is telling them that.

If you're re-reading a fic constantly, or leaving it up in your tab so that it re-loads every day for a hundred days the author is not going to know that unless you tell them. They'd love to hear it. It would make their day.

And if you don't tell them you liked their fic, there's no reason for them to assume you did.

[ssentimentals]

hellloooo can u please do idol!coups x reader for sleep deprivation on cheol’s part with reader taking care of him xx

helloooo anonie, sure i can, thank you for requesting! 💜

prompt: sleep deprivation

you try not to hover. you try not to act like mother hen in fear of being annoying. you try but it's so god damn hard when seungcheol looks like a dead man standing. your boyfriend has always been a hard worker, that's one of the qualities you admire about him, but his work ethic is also your biggest worry. seungcheol is present but just barely - you are sure that he didn't hear majority of the things you said with his mind being very, very far from here, buried in new dance routines or lyrics that had to be finished. it's amazing to see how work energizes seungcheol and gives him purpose, but it's horrible to watch him crumble under pressure. slowly you reach out for his hand, giving it a light squeeze: 'cheollie, baby. you're with me?'

seungcheol blinks at your touch and it takes him few moments to sit up straighter on the seat and send you a fake smile. 'yeah, baby, sorry, i'm here. what did you say?'

god, you can't believe this man wanted to pick you up after your work. seungcheol can't be trusted with a car now, not when he can barely focus. 'i asked if yuo're sure that we should go out tonight. you look really tired, cheol.'

he stubbornly shakes his head. 'no-no, i'm good. i'm so caught up at work that we haven't seen each other much lately.'

you kind of want to strangle and kiss him at the same time. he is so good for trying to make time for you amidst his hectic workload but he is so bad for not taking care of himself properly - you sigh loudly. 'when did you sleep last time?' you ask straight to the point. thank god for traffic at this hour, so you can fully turn to your boyfriend without paying attention to the road. 'you look like a zombie, baby.' seungcheol purses his lips and you instantly understand what's the problem. 'cheollie... you can't fall asleep?'

seungcheol sags in the passenger seat, looking embarrassed and done with himself. 'yeah,' he admits quietly. 'i- it's so fucking stupid. i don't know, i'm trying everything but it's just not working.' he sighs and rubs his eyes tiredly. 'i don't think i actually slept properly in the last 4-5 days.'

this admission breaks your heart. seungcheol is running on fumes and yet despite it all, he still is here, with you, because he doesn't want you to feel neglected. without thinking you enter new address to the gps, knowing full well what can help him this time. 'instead of the restaurant, let's have a picnic,' you announce in an overly enthusiastic tone.

'at eight pm?' seungcheol asks, confused. 'i mean if that's what you want then i don't mind but-'

'that's exactly what i want.' you squeeze his hand, sending him a small smile. 'no worries, baby. we are very close.'

it doesn't happen often, but it did happen before. sleep deprivation is, unfortunately, a part of seungcheol's life as an idol and you learned hard way how to deal with it. familiar scenes of home or studio don't calm him mind down, but fresh air and water always help. you park the close as close you can to the river and roll down all windows, letting cool evening breeze in. 'alrighty,' you turn to him with a gentle smile and snatch small blanket from the backseat. 'you take this and get comfortable. i'll order us some food.'

seungcheol grabs the blanket, frowning. 'what is happening?'

'we are having a picnic in the car,' you explain, opening food delivery app. 'and you are sleeping until the food arrives, getting much needed rest.' seungcheol opens his mouth to protest and you cut him off: 'this is a date. this is our date that i want to have.'

the thing is, you don't really care about specifics of date as long as seungcheol is close. he doesn't look convinced at first, but when you start talking about your date with a quiet music on the background, he relaxes. it doesn't take him long to fall asleep - adjusted seat, warm blanket, fresh air and your hand in his do their magic. you watch quietly as his breathing slows; in sleep seungcheol doesn't look as tired. still holding his hand you adjust your own seat and lower the radio volume. seungcheol going out of his way to be with you makes you want to do the same; and if date is about you letting him finally sleep and guarding his sleep then you're not complaining, not at all.

a/n: writing this made me so soft :') pls give cheollie all the hugs and sleep he deserves!! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

[demonslayedher]

You might recall I made a comic about Tanjiro's most dastardly Taisho Secret being that he adds charcoal as a secret ingredient in his rice.

EDIT: Please note that charcoal itself is indigestible, and Japanese charcoal is cooked to a very high level of purity. Please do not randomly stuff for lighting a barbecue into your rice, as I cannot make any claims about how safe that stuff is.

@reicchel remembered the aforementioned comic, and when we saw bamboo charcoal being sold with this advertised purpose, she gave me a look that said she wasn't going to let me get away with not putting it to the test. After all, I am kind of passionate about Japanese charcoal and its cultural implications, as well as how that gets used in Kimetsu no Yaiba (see here and here and here). I also usually only bother cooking if I'm doing a Kimetsu Kitchen thing (the posts specifically about the characters' favorite foods are here, but everything KnY-food related is in the tag.)

I have had no chance to even open the package of bamboo charcoal until now. This is partly because I have been busy out of my brains with work and partly because I hate cooking and am therefore loathe to add even one more step. However, this was the easiest Kimetsu Kitchen experiment I've ever done.

Bamboo charcoal is often sold as a natural dehumidifier, odor absorber, and bug-repellent to throw in your cabinets and stuff, but this was sold as clean enough for using in rice cookers and jugs of water for making mineral water (which I haven't done yet, seeing as I was too lazy to even open the package until today).

Speaking of today, I was having Mugen Ressha feels so I decided to recreate Tanjiro's dream meal, which happened to include Rengoku's favorite, satsuma-imo miso soup. That's become one of my favorite Kimetsu Kitchen recipes, though I haven't made it for a while, because I am lazy and busy. I do make a lot of miso soup because once you open a container of miso you have to use it really consistently to have any chance of using it all up, but satsuma-imo miso takes a little extra time and effort to get the potatoes all nice and soft, so lately I just through in some tororo konbu (Iguro's favorite food). I also picked up some nice big yellow takuan to make it closer to the Mugen Ressha meal, and since I was experimenting with bamboo charcoal and Takeo has bamboo in his name, might as well as what dream!Takeo likes to snag from big bro.

So anyway, the charcoal!rice got done.

Since I'm been so busy with work, that means I am in the habit of slamming food quickly instead of taking the time to enjoy it, so I'm just eating quick and easy and not especially enticing food while distracting myself with YouTube videos. This evening, after doing more weekend work, cleaning up the kitchen so I could set up the above photo, and putting aside leftovers, I was pleased with the photo result but then automatically went back to the YouTube video I had been semi-watching as I sat down and started putting food in my mouth without pausing to consider saying something like "itadakimasu."

But then I paused--

----what had I put in my mouth?

Why was it... so heavenly????????

Like, I legit froze with my chopsticks in the air as I started chewing that first little bite of white rice. It was exactly as I had Tanjiro describe it in that silly piece of fanart: "The natural minerals in the charcoal act on the rice to make it soft and fluffy."

Softest, fluffiest rice I've ever had, easily. But it's also exactly as the other Corp members cannot help but exclaim--how is it so freaking good!?

So like... I took my time with that meal. I chewed, slowly, thoroughly, like you're supposed to. The takuan and satsuma-imo miso soup likewise tasted simple and wonderful. It was best while the rice was warm, and I don't know how my leftovers will taste tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to it.

And I'm gonna make some mineral water too. The charcoal enthusiasts sure were not kidding about this rice.

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[tootkin-goblin]

And people seems to think that you can just push through the executive disfunction and Be Disciplined about it. Mind over matter! You're the boss of your body!

And in my experience you can... sometimes. But it's traumatic. And the trauma makes it even harder to push through the next time, because the brain is veeeeery good at stopping you from hurting yourself. Ever tried to put your hand on a burning stove? Well it does the same for tasks that seems inconsequential but have been very stressful the last time. Stress is a very hurtful after all.

And so you push through, and it's stressful and traumatic, and the executive disfunction grows. But you're better than that! Mind over matter! You push through again! And again! And again!! Until your body find other ways to stop you. And you wake up one morning and you can't anymore. Your legs won't support you. Your arms stops moving. Your eyes stop seeing. In my case it was a full stop: I would fall asleep anytime I tried to do the task. Literally, consciousness blackout anytime I tried. I know some people who had it worse still.

I might be wrong and it might not be universal, but my experience of executive disfunction is very much one of self-preservation. Not always actually helpful, not always targeted at the right things, sometimes it seems to make no sense at all. But sometimes it's not the task itself, it's the possibility of not succeeding at the task and being punished for it. "I want to draw and I love drawing but I can't" makes a lot more sense when it's actually "I want to draw and share my drawings but the internet is a cold void and I don't know if I will get the comments and the sense of connexion I'm yearning for so the drawing must be perfect to reach other people or else I will be punished with more loneliness"

Burnout is a bitch. Executive disfunction is describing a symptom more than a cause but, at least to me, the cause is trauma.

people who dont experience it cannot comprehend how awful executive dysfunction is. I WANT to do the task, i have the resources TO do the task, i will feel better having DONE the task

but i cant fucking do the task

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[princessflorida]

saying they've "lost their final bargaining chip" is so incredibly ludicrous and revolution fantasy to me honestly. no they didnt. their final "bargaining chip" is extortion and coercive force. it's how they got to where they are now. and force will be required to stop them. fascists dont just run out of bargaining chips. WE are the chips. and they're doing a very successful job at farming us. they wont run out.

if they truly had lost THEE FINAL bargaining chip for "keeping the masses working for them", then they'd lose. because we wouldn't be working for them. but we still are. literally no one has stopped. because we have to have a roof over our head and food, especially people that have kids. or people that have meds they HAVE to pay for or they die, etc.

IF they EVER lose "the final bargaining chip keeping the masses working for them" it will be because it was taken by force. the final chip is being allowed to stay alive. the final chip is not starving to death or dying from exposure.

i can tell when people say stuff like this they've never been homeless or lived poverty at best, and at worst are usually chronically online kids who have never had to pay bills and have never had to choose between having a roof or eating. i can telk they've never once had to worry about where their next meal was coming from, have never had to steal food to stay alive, had to do risky fucked up shit not to die in the heat or the cold, etc.

our compliance will not be rewarded with anything other than JUST barely getting enough food and sleep to stay alive. alive, not well or healthy. just alive. starve an animal and watch what it's willing to do to get food. itll do anything. so will we. our coercive forced compliance is rewarded with not dying. and the vast majority of people, especially those who have kids to make sure don't starve to death, will stoop to any level to make sure those mouths get fed. and i don't mean the snitch bitch from mcdonalds. she can rot. i mean that saying "theyve lost the final bargaining chip keeping the masses working for them" sounds like the chronically online teenage revolution fantasy from someone who's parents pay their phone bill, and their way through college, and bought them a car etc. like you're really not convincing me you've ever gone hungry once. clearly the masses are still working for them. nothing has changed.

the adjuster (luigi is innocent til proven guilty can yall stop saying he did it sybau snitches youre as bad as the mcds lady by doing that), whoever he is, did a heroic and powerful thing. and "the masses" simply ARE NOT willing to organize and follow in his footsteps. they'd rather keep working bc they need food and a roof NOW. until we combat that with community mutual aid and organization on a large level, their "last bargaining chip" is our lives.

think about what you're saying before you say it. seriously. the chronically online revolutionary fantasy shit pmo so bad. all i see nowadays trying to organize w people is that no one wants to ACTUALLY do anything, they just want to keep working for the masses while pretending that bitching online is some sort of radical revolutionary activist shit that actually does something (it doesnt). and those of us who actly are willing are so outnumbered and poor, disabled, sick etc that WE'RE the ones who need the fucking help. anyone above our tax bracket, middle class, who pretends to be into this shit when it comes time to try to do that? crickets.

let me know when yall are ACTUALLY ready to adjust the world in favor of humanity's sustainable survival ourselves. ill be waiting. ill probably die waiting. the adjuster has shown us we cant change the world alone. we need numbers. big numbers. enough of us that they can't just throw us in prison and make an example out of us.

bc right now the rich/elite/1%/politicians are sitting and laughing at dumbass tweets like this knowing the people posting them won't even break a single misdemeanor law much less do worse. they don't let the snitches in the club, and they know the people against them won't crash the club either. even losing 1 of their own, did that stop UHC? did it stop for profit healthcare? no. a lot more deaths will have to happen for any of that to stop, bc they will not stop for any reason other than being dead. and they know their club is untouchable both to snitch asskissers and those against them. bc we dont try. bc of the threat of violence and death. the end.

[flowersforthemachines]

What home smells like (Crossroads comments)

Note: judging by the audio I extracted and the conversation file, Bellara and Taash don't have lines for that event (if they actually have lines and I missed them, pls lmk).

Rook: That scent… I can't place it. Neve: For a moment… it smelled like Dock Town after it rains. Lucanis: Coffee. Like Illario and I smelled in the kitchen where we grew up. But that cannot be right. Harding: That's my ma's apple cake! But… how? Davrin: That's smoke from my old clan's campfire. But… how do I even know that? Emmrich: It's reminiscent of the mortuary's perfumes, but… ah. Of course. Emmrich: There's small enchantments around this place. From the old elves, welcoming their kindred home.

My DAVG Extracted Audio Masterlist

[ardenzia777]

Painted Miquella and Radahn Portraits ("omg Ardy this isn't Epic art" Yes yes i know, I do enjoy things other than EPIC, plus i'm proud of these and wanna share them uwu) Gonna do Portraits of Ranni and Rykard and Mohg and Morgott next!

[normalwomanontheinternet]

I've known quite a few subs that have serious problems expressing what they want, and expect doms to be able to read their mind. This is actively dangerous for everybody involved.

Subs: Nobody can read your mind. For you to get what you want you're going to have to talk about it. It's not just hot when a sub expresses themselves, it's mandatory. Doms like it when you use your words, even if what you're asking for is a gag that'll stop you using your words or for the dom to take complete control and make all decisions in a scene. The worst outcome of expecting doms to read your mind is that if they do something you don't like, you might end up feeling hurt and violated and that it couldn't possibly be your fault because you didn't ask for any of it. A more common outcome of expecting doms to read your mind is that you'll be stuck at home hornyposting on Tumblr instead of actually having the wild sex you want to be.

If you haven't already, please go and read I'm A Much Better Bottom Than You. Here's Why by Nea Ching. She lays out three skills important for subs: self-awareness of desires, communication, and respect for doms as people. I think a lot about how much of the sub posting I see on Tumblr fails on at least one of these criteria. Hornyposting is, of course, not the same as sex, but if you'd like to be having more kinky sex you should consider it your mission to practice those skills while posting.

Doms: If a sub cannot tell you what you want, they are not a safe person for you to dom. I think the post above shows one potential way that you can help shy subs express themselves by making it horny, but it is not your responsibility to tease the desires out of somebody if you don't want to. Ask yourself: if I am having to put in this much work to help this sub communicate their desires, do I trust that they will speak up if they feel like something's not right? Are they just going along with what I want because they are an agreeable person who thinks I'm hot? If this scene went badly, how would you both feel? Are they likely to blame you?

A lot of queer subs tend to see doms as somewhere between vending machines of sex and safeguarding officers, and it will benefit you to avoid letting yourself be put in that position by subs who don't see your humanity. If a kink scene goes very badly, you are simply more likely to suffer the effects of any social fallout than the sub is, and it's part of your responsibility to not fuck people who you don't trust to tell you what good fucking and bad fucking looks like for them.

I love telling subs that I'll give them whatever they're brave enough to ask for. Watch their face light up with hope, then blush with embarrassment and shyness as they realise they have to speak up. Describe exactly what they want me to do to them, tell me what names they want to be called, lay out their most desperate desires without hiding behind hints and whines.

Come on darling, use your words.

[marigraphia]

I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻

The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)

And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos