#i feel like a drug user without their drugs

[riri-and-rascal]

Ik nobody sees my Tumblr posts, so I'm putting this here for fun pretty much, but my (obviously not free) music downloader app has glitched on me and now won't allow me to download any more music. It also deleted all of the music I had previously downloaded. Does anyone have any app recommendations for an android user that are also (obviously) not free??

I've tried some other apps but their interfaces are too complicated for me (and my smooth brain), or they don't have a wide enough selection of songs. So if you know any good ones, like, please help a girl out. I literally cannot function in my daily life without music, and I don't always have access to internet to just stream.

[chrome-barkz-aac]

i made this instagram post !!! there isn't as big of a community of AAC users on instagram so I thought I would share this on my instagram (@cytochromesea).

EDIT: i got an ask that states that not everyone knows what AAC is which is an oversight on my part, it stands for alternative and augmentative communication!

Image ID:

A light blue background with a rainbow and a cloud and some stars. There is a blue border collie with wings holding an aac tablet that says I love you! Text reads: AAC etiquette. Do’s, Don’ts, and other stuff. By cytochrome sea.

The same background appears in every following slide. Text reads:

AAC is my voice! It is not a toy or accessory

Don’t touch my AAC without my permission

Don’t take my AAC away from me, for any reason (joke, punishment, etc)

Don’t press buttons randomly or flip through my communication cards without permission

How would you like it if I randomly poked you on the mouth and throat (or on your hands if you sign)? It would be unpleasant, so don’t do that to me

Some AAC users can speak sometimes. It is not your business why someone can or cannot talk

Don’t ask questions about why an AAC user cannot speak. 

Do let us communicate however is best for us in that moment

Don’t ask us if or when we will be able to speak verbally. It’s not your business 

Do not value verbal speech more highly than AAC. Any communication is good communication

Some of us never talk, either, and that’s ok! Those of us who can talk sometimes are not better than those of us who can’t. None of us owe you an explanation for our use of AAC.

Don’t look at my screen until I show you. It feels really invasive!

It feels like when someone is looking at your phone screen over your shoulder, so please don’t do this

This applies to low tech AAC as well, don’t look at someone’s cards or letter board until they show you

You have the dignity of forming your thoughts in your head before you say them, whereas my thoughts are all on display. Please afford me the same dignity that you get automatically.

Don’t shame someone for not being able to speak verbally. It makes us feel horrible

We are real people with thoughts and feelings. Please treat us with kindness. 

We are trying our best

Don’t shame someone if their device mispronounces a word. It’s quite literally out of our control.

Other Don’ts. Don’t

Don't Treat an AAC user as childish or stupid for not being able to speak. Our ability to speak does not define our worth

Don't Show frustration at the way someone communicates

Don't Make comments about how fast or slow we communicate

Also don’t…

don't Act surprised when we swear or talk about adult topics like sex, drugs, or violence. We are not pure uwu precious smol beans, we are normal fucking people

don't Assume what is “wrong” with us. There are about a hundred reasons for someone to use AAC and you probably aren’t the expert in any of them.

“OK, so what CAN i do?” im glad you asked! When interacting with an AAC user, DO…

Ask us how we prefer to communicate and support us as you are able

Assume that we are competent

Talk to us with the same respect, tone and vocabulary that you would for any one else

Give us money (this one is a joke)

Understand that AAC grammar isn’t perfect and we are doing our best

Is it rude if…

I can’t understand your device? Not rude! Misunderstandings happen all the time in any conversation, just be patient as you would normally. 

I want to complement your AAC? Not rude!

I ask to see your AAC and understand how it works? This isn’t rude if you are already talking about AAC, but don’t ask random strangers this. They don’t owe you an AAC tour. 

Thank you for listening! This post is for the community! If you are an AAC user, let me know if I missed something in the comments and I will pin it! I hope you are filled with peace and love and I hope something good happens to you today! End ID. 

[planete777]

꒰ LEAF TAPES .:. LN4 ꒱

( lando norris x reader )

read part 2!

IN WHICH. a private twitter account gets leaked. it just so happens to contain lando and y/n's... debauchery.

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, smau, explicit content exposed without consent, twitter environment, lando is just....... lando, mentions of drug use (as per)

NOTE. first smau say what????? ofc it had to be about high!lando, subtly inspired by @lorarri's lewis fic. it was a rather spontaneous thought and hella indulgent so ofc irl, this wouldn't roll, but on planete777, it does. hopefully it makes sense... hehe. enjoy ppl, and remember, this is all for entertainment purposes!!!

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍

-.-.-.-

landonorris just posted on their story // yn_ln just posted on their story

-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-

yn_ln

liked by landonorris, ur_bsf and 930,228 others

yn_ln non twitter users missing out fr

>comments<

user NOT ON IG AS WELL 😭

user as a person who doesn't have twitter, i think the 2nd pic is enough for me to know 😆

landonorris we look so hot -> yn_ln yes we do -> user do you guys need a third? i can bark? -> user 😭😭😭😭

landonorris getting horny again looking at this 🫠 -> user LANDO 😭 -> user making it 225 i see 😏 -> landonorris for sureee -> yn_ln come over then

user the HANDSSSSSSS

user if i starting smoking weed it's their fault idc

carlossainz55 i've seen enough already please -> user poor carlos 💀 -> user i really wonder how the drivers are rn seeing all of this online -> carlossainz55 horrified -> oscarpiastri terrified -> charlesleclerc shellshocked -> pierregasly astonished -> alexalbon traumatised -> georgerussell taken vastly aback -> landonorris you're welcome -> yn_ln what he said

maxfewtrell i can't believe this -> yn_ln you should've the moment lando said he wanted to make an of 🤷 -> landonorris ^^^

user idk if i want to have them or be them -> user REAL!!!

user when's the next episode coming out?? -> yn_ln soon dw

landonorris last slide is me everyday -> user we can see that bro -> user LMAO -> yn_ln my body is proof babe -> user 😭

[the-delusion-corner]

ℓσνє мє ~ т. ι

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𝔗𝔬𝔤𝔢 ℑ𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔦 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰:𝔉𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔶, 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶, 𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔤𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔱, 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 (ℑ𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔦 𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔢𝔠𝔥, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡)

𝔖𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: 𝔗𝔬𝔤𝔢 ℑ𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔦 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔪 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔰𝔬 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔡𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔦𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔡, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔬 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔴𝔞𝔶.

𝔚𝔠: 3.2𝔨

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!!

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Toge Inumaki didn't like you. At least it seemed that way. No matter what you said or what you did, he'd never fail to dismiss with his limited words.

"Fish Flakes" or "Caviar" were the 2 phrases you'd hear from him most, and overtime you've learnt that those were negative and expletives. It made you wonder alot, what you'd done to gain his dislike, but it's not like he could tell you if you asked him. You can't explain a reason with rice bowl ingredients.

He knew different, his attitude towards you wasn't the best but in his own mind, it was a protective mechanism for himself. How could a relationship start without the simple process of communication? How could it last without words being passed around? He didn't think it could, so he tried in his own way to be distant, maybe to get over you with time, though that proved difficult. Even so, what chance did he have of you liking him? Unless he forced it upon you himself.

You were lounged across the small sofa Maki had nestled in the corner of her dorm room, legs flailed over the arm of the velvet coated chair. You were humming softly to yourself as you mindlessly scrolled through your dashboard, as a text pop up dinged through your speakers. With a hunt of curiosity you tapped the notification, opening it full screen to see who'd text you.

[Toge]: Meet me in my dorm in 15

[Toge]: knock 3 times

You couldn't help but wonder what this was about, he'd never once invited you to his room, hell he didn't speak to you, so why now? You sat up, groaning slightly before flashing your phone screen at a concerned Maki.

She read over your screen and took note of the name of the sender, scoffing slightly as she laid back down on her bed.

"Don't fret it, he's a nice kid, won't be anything bad"

You could beg to differ. He was nice sure, and you knew it wasn't gonna be anything hurtful, he wasn't like that. But a random invitation to his dorm room was nothing short of concerning for you.

"i know- i know, but don't you think it's a bit, you know, weird? The guy doesn't like me" You screwed your face as you left the text on read, hanging around on your screen. With a sigh you sent a quick 'okay' back before shoving the device into your pocket.

"And telling me to knock 3 times? sounds like a drug deal" Maki laughed at your obvious over exaggeration of the situation before rolling her eyes.

"Just go and see what he wants, you're seriously over thinking this. Hey maybe you'll be friends after this" You shot her a look, causing her to sit up and shake her head. "Maybe not, but don't be a wuss (y/n), that's boring"

Part of you said to ignore the message, that the interaction would only end up awkward, but most of you was curious. What was so important that the cursed speech user wanted you to come to his dorm?

Rubbing your hands over your face you nodded in affirmation, confirming that you'd get the guts to just go and check out what he wanted, despite the nagging feeling in you not to. It couldn't be bad anyway..

10 minutes of grovelling later you find a hand shoving your back, Maki kicking you out of her room with a wink, requesting to be updated entirely in whatever plays out. As her door shuts, nearly hitting your nose, you took in a deep breath. Why were you so nervous? he's another student like you, a damn prankster at that. That's probably what this was right? a prank against you, paint on top of his door or a bucket of ice.

Eventually you shuffle down the corridor, finally getting away from Maki's dorm and taking the corridor that led to Toge's room. The whole way you thought about it being a prank, deciphering the ideas in your head of what the little shit might be concocting in his room until you were face to face with the plain brown door. Crossing your heart, you knocked the pattern into his door.

1 knock

2 knocks

3 knocks.

"Come in" Oh. So this is how he's gonna play huh? you temporarily lost all control of your own body as the cursed speech rocked through you, reaching your hand for the door handle. You stepped in and regained your own senses, his dorm room was dark, his curtains weren't drawn, and he had no source of light beaming from any corner. Cocking your head in confusion, you called his name out, staring at the figure of him sat on the bed.

"Toge? Whats this about- whys its so dark in here?-"

"Sit on the bed"

Once again, your legs moved by themselves, forcing you to step further into the dimly lit room before your knees forcefully buckled, sitting you down on his bed. You could easily do yourself, he did know that right? Though undoubtedly, for some twisted reason, the forceful behaviour caused the slightest stomach flutter, like a mini kaleidoscope of butterflies unleashing and spreading their pretty wings.

"Okay...I'm...sat? Seriously Toge, what is this" You questioned once again, your eyes focusing in on the man as he kicked his legs up, crossing them like a child as he unzipped his jacket, pulling it down and away from his mouth. Revealing the snake eyes on his face that you rarely saw, an undeniable heat hit your cheeks, though not visible due to the limited lighting. Internally, you were screaming at yourself to stop finding this shit attractive, but a natural reaction can't be helped.

He reached for his bed side table, picking up a small notebook and simple black inked pen. With his speech, he couldn't convey what he wanted to say to you through physical words, his next best was to write his desired words onto a piece of paper. You watched on in silence as his hand gripped the pen, messily scribbling down some words you couldn't yet read. Tilting his head, he ripped the page from the notebook binders and shoved it to your lap, closing your fingers around the crumpled up sheet.

{"Probably wondering why i've called you here huh? Well it's simple.

I

Like

You

Thought it was finally time to say it, or write it at least"}

You almost scoffed as you read it, not out of disgust, but simple disbelief. HE liked YOU? seemed impossible.

"Funny joke Toge what's this actually about?" The doubt was evident in your tone, as it was in your face. You held a frown as you read the small note again, not a single essence of you believed him. Gaining an eye roll from the purple stare, he turned to another page to scribble some more words down.

You watched intently, on normal circumstances you'd find this whole note passing stuff weird, but you have to give him the benefit of the doubt, he was at least trying to say something to you, and it wasn't an ingredient expletive. That was a relief in itself. He grunted as he ripped the next page, smiling with his eyes as he handed the follow up note to you to read.

{"Its the full truth (y/n), I'm mean to you because, it's easier. It's not easy to like someone when you can't speak to them you know.

P.S It's also funny to piss you off"}

Your eyes rolled at the unnecessary add on, but there was a pang in your heart at the main contents of the note. You could understand it being hard to like someone if you can't speak to them, those few written words spoke thousands if you read between the lines. You sighed, running a delicate finger over the dried ink before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"So-... you like me? like like me?" He gave you a look, wordlessly calling you stupid before nodding his head, flashing the fangs on his tongue with a simple poke out. You shivered, the room felt tense. You weren't sure what to say...did you like him like that? You couldn't deny that despite your past relations with each other he was attractive to you...but you never got close, was it anything for you?

Your slow train of thought was cut off quickly anyway, as 2 words rung through your ears. Your body took control of itself, following the heavy influence of 2 simple but effective words that Toge uttered.

"Kiss me"

A sly smirk crossed over his face as you moved forward, against your will, placing your lips upon his gently. Gasping as you felt the plush flesh against you, you were met with a quick decision, keep going or pull away. You had kissed him, so you had your body back. But...

You're weak.

You pulled back for a brief second, your eyes meeting his in the tense air before your eyelids fluttered closed, your head leaning forward again to re lock into a kiss.

One hand of yours pressed into his mattress, holding your own weight as your free hand cupped his jaw, as you shared soft pressed and gentle kisses. Your fingers traced over his sharp edged jaw, the feeling of his hand running up your small arm to hook around the base of your neck, shocking a pathetic shiver to run through you.

"Lay down"

Out of nowhere he spoke into your mouth, and by nature you followed his command, laying down on his bed. Your hair spilled out onto the pillow holding onto your head, your face upturned as he crept up to lay above you. A sturdy hand landed by your head as another tilted your jaw up by a singular finger. His purple eyes looked down into yours for what felt like 10 minutes until his weight met you, his lips engulfing yours into what you'd consider a proper kiss.

2 sneaky hands immediately ran up the blonde boys back, dancing gentle patterns into his shirt as he took his own lead. His lips shared short and sweet kisses with yours, heated up faces in close contact. His left hand shifted the stray hair out of your face as a wet feeling ran across your bottom lip. The initial shock caused you to gasp, which was deemed an entry point, his tongue darting past the barrier of your lips and into the warm cavern of your lips.

A soft and breathless noise was passed onto his mouth, it was happening now, no point shying away now. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, almost pushing his head further into yours as a way to deepen the kiss as you were half choked by an intense overtake of his tongue.

You were sure you heard him groan when he ran his head down the side of your jaw, his fingers tracing the shape like braille as it reached your neck. His finger dragged the skin down to lead to your chest. You gasped softly at the unexpected pressure put onto your chest, as his tongue became more aggressive, swirling in and out of your mouth in battle against yours, though he was definitely the stronger one. You opened your mouth, tilting your head back and asking for it, giving his hair a quick tug to earn a slight growl.

A near squelching sound appeared through the room when you attempted to battle your tongue into his mouth, ultimately losing as he filled your mouth again. The speed that his lips disconnected and placed onto yours began to increase as his hand slipped down the thi material of the baggy white tee hiding your upper body. His fingers toyed the hem of it before pushing past, his touch making your abdomen tense up in anticipation.

You brought your other hand up to grab his head, supporting on both sides as you received a mouthful of the wet muscle. A soft groan passed along into his mouth, which was quickly reciprocated in a deeper pitch. He took it as a sign of enjoyment, dragging his slender fingers up your tense stomach and poking at the thin lace of the bra cups underneath. He withdrew his tongue from your mouth, a string of saliva dragging across and snapping as you opened your eyes with a pant.

"Take your shirt off"

His hair was freed from your ghastly grip, the strands sticking up in awkward ways as your hands reached for your shirt. With a quick movement, the top was held and pulled away from your skin, disregarded somewhere on the floor by his bed. His eyes practically shone as he got an eyeful of your breasts, covered by a thin white lace, intricately designed. Anyone would think it was worn for a planned intercourse, you were just lucky.

He practically eye fucked you for a moment before your mouth was engulfed again, no time to breathe before his tongue pushed into your mouth, wanting to coat every corner of your mouth with his saliva. There was no shirt in his way now, his hands moving off instinct and running over the soft lace of your left cup. His thumb carefully dragged over the material, getting a feel of the hardening nipple below, gaining a growl from him and a soft moan from you.

The only thing you could do was sit still and look pretty, let him have the fun he's been wordlessly wanting all of this time. Snaking 2 arms up around his neck you opened your mouth wider into the kiss, creating an entrance for his tongue to dart in and out, soaking your puffy and swollen lips.

His teeth latched onto your bottom lip, tugging it slightly to hear a sinful groan escape your throat, before filling your mouth with his muscle again. His hand got excited, dipping below the material of your bra and taking the hardened bud in between 2 fingers, rolling it around and squeezing the sensitive point with care. A shameful whimper left your throat as his free hand dipped under your back, a skilful finger unlatching the bra straps at the clasps. He pulled away from your lips, smiling slightly as he grabbed a strap at a time, pealing them from your shoulders until no material was left in contact of your skin.

Meeting your shirt on the floor, your bra was tossed away, and you watched as his tongue ran over his own bottom lip, before he placed a gentle kiss on your lips. It was short lived as his experienced mouth pulled away with a pop, leaving you open mouthed and panting. Kisses were dotted along your jaw, not a single bit of skin left unattended by his hungry mouth.

His hands both found your chest, his firm hand rolling your nipple around and pinching at the wailing nub. Your other breast was being fondled, given experimental squeezes and moved around in the palm of your hand. Soft pants and whimpers kept flowing from your throat, your eyes closing shut as you leaned your head back into his thin pillow, praying to no one that not a peep would be heard outside his dorm.

His starved mouth dragged down your neck, tongue dragging down the skin and leaving a small trail of spit along the area of attack, before eventually reaching your bare collarbone. Delicate teeth nipped at the skin, bringing the blood to the surface as his lips sucked like a leech. There'd be a mark there for a few days without a doubt, and the thought made your warm. Your eyes shot open at the feeling of Toge getting closer to his clear desire

He looked up at you as he dragged his tongue down the skin in between your breasts, a shit eating grin on his face as he looked between the 2 sites he could go for. Giving your left nipple a harsh pinch, he wrapped his lips over the hardened right nub, swirling his hot tongue around in a sensitive manner.

Your eyes shot wide, a strangled whine leaving your throat. He didn't like you yesterday, and he's wrapped up in your tits as a safe haven today, it made you giddy. His hand toyed with your breast, rolling it around his hand and pulling and pinching at the bud, his actions easily described more rough than sweet. The panting breath came from his oral attention, his tongue taking a taste of your nipple. His teeth latched on for their own taste, a gentle tug releasing yet another shameful whimper from you.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, staring up at the empty dorm room ceiling in sheer shock of what the hell was going on, but you wouldn't stop it, it felt too good. A wet pop sounded as he released your nipple from his mouth, kissing around the flesh before switching sides. His thumb and pointer rolled the wet nipple around in a teasing manner, as he attacked the left side with intent. His tongue swirled over the top, a slight metallic taste that he's learnt he craved more of, relentless teeth nipping gently. His eyes scaled upwards as he took his wants, noticing that you're ceasing to look at him. He couldn't have that now could he?

A free hand came up to your mouth, the pressure of his thumb meeting your bottom teeth, adding a pressure that gaped your mouth and tilted your head down. He let go of your nipple from his mouth, spitting on the sensitive tip slightly as he frowned at your absence of stare.

"Eyes on me"

A widened look and an unstoppable stare took over you as a devilish smirk appeared on his face, taking a taste of the area he covered with his spit. He dragged his tongue over you breast again, giving the unattended nipple a slight smack. You were panting, you wanted more in your heart but what words would you ever find to ask that. You settled on biting your lip, training your eyes to watch his every move as he continued his attack on your swollen buds.

His free hand moved to curve the shape of your bare waist, threatening to dip below the waistband on your loose sweats. Settling on your hip, he dragged his tongue across one breast to the other, circling and doubling back with a grin on his lips. You smiled down, feeling your stomach pool up and slip down to your core, wetting your panties with slick.

A kiss was placed between the 2 mounds on your body before he leaned up and latched his lips onto yours again, kissing you 3 times through before leaning back, his forehead solid to yours as he spoke 2 words that were so simple, but had the biggest effect. His hands grabbed the waistband of your sweats as a raspy voice spoke in your ear, changing the trajectory of your feelings.

"Love me"

And love him you did. I mean,

...What choice did you have?

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©𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓡𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓡𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭 - 𝓣𝓱𝓮-𝓓𝓮𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷-𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓻

>𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭!

>𝓓𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽, 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴.

(っ◔◡◔)っ - 𝓐𝓫𝓲

[aturinfortheworse]

Manifesto of the Committee for the Sick and Useless

Those of us with disabilities form an interest group with an immense number of seemingly abled people. Everyone whose culture, beliefs, age, personality, sexuality, language, immigration status or other inclination makes them less useful to society belongs with disabled people in the fight to exist without justification.

The Committee for the Sick and Useless believe it is the innate and inalienable right of all people to:

       Do Nothing

       Help No One

       Feel Awful

And above all else

       Be Useless

In this age of increasing productivity and accomplishment, we too often sacrifice the most sacred right of all living things: to simply exist, asking much and contributing nothing. We sacrifice this right not just for ourselves as individuals but for all life on Earth present and future. 

Our existence has been made conditional on the work we are expected to do, whether that work is employment, education, or caring for the home. Even plants and animals must now earn their right to exist by producing food, providing beauty, cleaning our air, warming our hearts. The ugly, unpleasant and useless are abandoned.

We, the committee, do not consider ourselves at odds with health, joy and usefulness. Rather we are united with all good and joyful people in our fight against the demand for productivity. Our enemies are those who demand that the land produce wealth, that the workers produce profit, that the sick produce medical certificates, that children grow up and the elderly make themselves scarce. 

The right to exist is the foundation of all human rights and duties; it cannot be made conditional, lest all rights be made conditional. We support the right of everyone, everywhere, to live.

In this admittedly revolutionary goal, we have many allies. These include, but are not limited to: queers, cripples, drug users, the unemployed, the mentally ill, the anti-colonial, the incomprehensible, the celibate, the ugly, mutes, mystics, pessimists, mosquitoes, cats, children, teenagers, the elderly, speakers of suppressed languages, and people without a driving license.

This is Chapter 31 of Redefining Disability, with very minor edits. I held off on posting this until it was published. It is now in a real physical book that they cannot take away from me so here you all go.

If you would like a copy of this or any other chapters from the journal, there is a pinned post on my blog with free download details. I would also be happy to email them to you.

[storm-angel989]

How would Valentine and the other vees react to his daughter attempting to take her own life? Sorry if its too dark u don't have to answer the request.

It’s never too dark of a request. I hope by writing this fic someone, somewhere who might be struggling sees that their life has irreplaceable value.  I’ve been in that headspace, held that belief that the world would be better off without me. It’s a dark space, but I can promise you it gets better- I can’t say it enough. 

It gets better.

For anyone who is going through this- I’ve been there. I promise you, it gets better. <3 My DM’s are open for anyone who ever needs to chat. 

Even if it feels like no one else in the world cares, I PROMISE I do. 

<3 Mandy

Valentino treated overdoses like it was his job. 

In a way, it was. You don’t gain the titles he had without learning a thing or two along the way. When you deal with drugs, afterall, you deal with the unfortunate side effects that came along with them. It was simply good business to have the basic medical skills, enough to keep the user alive long enough to get them to someone who can bring them back the rest of the way. 

After all, dead addicts don’t pay. 

Another late night. There seemed to be quite a few of them lately, not that Valentino minded. Surrounded by his models, beautiful demons who brought out every aspect of the word lust. The music in the club hit perfectly, and his salesdemons were making bank tonight. At that moment, it felt like nothing in the world could go wrong. 

The shrill shriek of his phone interrupted his blissful buzz. Glancing at the caller ID he did a double take.

“Vox? I’m at work. This better be an emergency.” He answered sharply. “You know I don’t like to be…” 

“Valentino, you need to come home. Now.” Vox’s sharp voice interrupted him. “It’s Reader. Something’s wrong.”

Valentino was on his feet and out the door without a second thought. Shoving demons aside, he jumped in the limo. The ride home took less than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. 

He shoved open the door to her bedroom, and the sight that greeted him felt like he had been punched in the gut. His daughter laid on her side, a blanket draped over her shaking body. 

“What happened? Is she sick?” Valentino demanded as he knelt down next to her. “Why didn’t you bring her downstairs?”

“Val, I just found her. She’s awake, she’s breathing, she has a pulse, she’s just..silent,” Vox replied. “And look…” 

Vox held up her arm and Valentino visibly winced at the sight. Cuts covered her wrist, up as far as he could see. From just below the vein, bright red blood dripped. Silently, Velvette handed him an empty bottle. He looked down at his daughter and gritted his teeth. 

“Bebita, what did you do?” He muttered as he glanced at the label. “You found this empty, Vel?”

“Yeah.”

Valentino cursed. No wonder she was still awake, but she wouldn’t be for long. “Vox, page downstairs and tell them to have the on-call doctor and have him meet us there. Both of you, with me, now.”

He carefully lifted up his daughter and, without waiting for the elevator, hurried her down the stairs, Vox and Velvette behind him. He looked down at her as dark blue foam began to drip from the corners of her mouth. In his arms, she curled and heaved into him. Valentino glanced down as warm blue liquid stained his jacket. 

Fuck. 

“Get up,” Valentino barked at the on duty nurse. He rattled off a list of things he would need as he laid his daughter on her side. From the cupboards, he tossed supplies on the counter. 

“Put an ng tube in,” he growled to the nurse as he handed her a bottle of dark black liquid. “Get this entire bottle down her throat and then take it out. Vox, where the fuck is the doctor?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Valentino stepped back and continued to yank open the cupboards, frantically searching until he found the right combination to counteract the pills she took. Without another thought, he slid the needle into her vein with a practiced hand. 

“Come on, mi amore, don’t you dare,” he growled as his daughter closed her eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He pressed his hand against her chest, desperate to feel the beating of her heart. 

A faint thud beneath his palm. A whimper of pain.

The doctor walked in seconds later and with orders from Valentino, whisked her away to the back. Fury raced over Valentino’s expression and he turned to Vox and Velvette.

“What the fuck happened to my daughter?”

Velvette looked up from her phone and quietly handed it to Valentino. “ I don’t know how else to say it, but…Val, she made a post and…well, it looks like she tried to commit suicide.”

Valentino felt himself pale as he stared down at the screen. “No, she wouldn’t. My little girl? Why would…”

“I don’t know, Val,” Vox said sharply. “But I do know we fucking missed a hell of a lot of signs based on the amount of damage she did to her body already.” 

Valentino sank onto one of the empty beds and stared across the room. His little girl was in so much fucking pain she felt the world better off without her in it? His little girl hurt so badly, she needed to hurt herself? He buried his face in his hands. Had he gotten to her in time? Would she even survive this attempt? Why the fuck hadn’t he seen the signs? 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and weight shift on either side of him. He tried to hold back the tears of sadness, of guilt. The tears that came with the adrenaline rush he didn’t normally feel. 

“Val, we’ll get her through this,” Vox said softly. “I think we found her in time.”

Valentino tried to swallow back his sadness, but his voice still shook as he spoke. 

“What..what cued you in? What made you check on her?”

“Her blood pressure tanked, and I got the alert on my phone. As soon as I saw her, I called you. Couldn’t have been more than…”

“It takes seven minutes for her vital signs to be affected,” Valentino said bitterly. “Blue foam on the mouth and vomiting occur at fifteen. Her heart stops at twenty five. She’s lucky you found her when you did. Lucky I had the drugs I needed on hand, lucky that I knew what to fucking do otherwise…just a few more minutes…she still might not…”

“No, she will. And she will get through this. We will get her the help she needs, Val. Whatever she needs.” Velvette said sharply.

“You wouldn’t walk on a broken leg, depression, anxiety, mental illnesses, they’re no different. They need to be treated, just like any other disease,” Vox added. “We know this, Val. We’ll get her the treatment she needs to fight this.” 

“Mr. Valentino?” the doctor's voice broke through their conversation. 

Valentino stood up. Vox and Velvette joined him.

“She’s in recovery. We pumped her stomach and are running a few tests, but thanks to your quick actions,  it looks like she’ll be just fine. I don’t think she’ll suffer any long term effects,” the doctor told them. “She’s awake. You can go in and see her. I would like to suggest an adolescent psychiatrist…”

“Yes, absolutely. Get her over here as soon as possible. Whatever my daughter needs,” Valentino said quickly as he made his way down the hall. 

The sight of his daughter laying in her hospital bed made him stop in his tracks. He swallowed back the fear and sadness that crept up his throat. She looked too small to be lying there, too frail to be anywhere but safe in her own bed. Her arms wrapped up tightly in white bandages, the monitors that showed her heart rate on a screen. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lift her up and sprint her back to the safety of their home, keep her in the safety of his arms. 

But he knew, somewhere deep inside, that that wasn’t what was best for her. 

“Daddy? Are you mad at me?” 

Her soft voice broke through the quietness of the hospital room. 

“No, babygirl, no,” he replied quickly as he made his way across the room. He sat down next to her and smoothed back her hair. “I’m just…I’m glad you’re okay.”

She stared at him with exhausted eyes. “I ruined your good jacket,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I’m sorry…I’ll…”

“Fuck the jacket,” he replied quickly as he pulled off the vomit stained cloak. He tossed it into the corner of the room. “Bebita, I can replace that. There is only one of you, and you my love…oh honey…why didn’t you come tell me what was going on?”

She shrugged and looked down. He took a deep breath and in one swift movement, laid down next to her and pulled her body against his. 

“We can figure that out later,” he said quietly as he held her. “Not now. Right now, Daddy is here.” 

“Are you…are you going to send me away?” she whispered. 

Valentino swallowed. “Send you away? No. Never. You’re my little girl.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “If you need the extra support, an inpatient stay, we’ll give it to you. But I would never, ever send you awake. We’ll do whatever it is we need to do to get you better. Life doesn’t need to be this hard, mi amore. It gets better. I promise.” 

“I’m not crazy,” she sniffled. “Daddy, please..” “No one said you were,” he said soothingly. “My ninita.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I promise you, it gets better. And Daddy and Uncle Vox and Auntie Vel? We love you more than all the rings of hell. We’ll be by your side to support you- no matter what.” He held her ever so slightly tighter, “I love you, reader. We will get through this. I promise.”

[justaaveragereader]

Use Me

Pairing: FuckBoy!Wooyoung x Afab Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Dom Fuckboy!Woo, Sub!Reader, Unprotected Sex, Choking, Face Smacking, Degradation, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Woo Is Mean Asf🤪…If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know!

A/N: Listen…idk why but Woo has just been clouding my mind😵‍💫, I just feel like Woo would be a honest fuck boy, like he already is honest now, and loves being honest. Can you imagine him being a fuckboy?!? The man wouldn’t be sparing ANY feelings. Also I literally said I was going to take November off, and here I was at working writing a lil some some, if there are any mistakes, sorry😬. I wrote this without my glasses.

You knew that this was wrong, you heart yearned for him, he used you when he pleased, whispering sweet dreams into your ear, and you let him. That’s all he sold you, nothing but dreams, and you bought them everytime. You watched as his eyes ran over the large crowd, stopping once they reached your frame. With one simple look he could break you down in various ways then one.

The crinkle of his eyes, due to that mischievous smile he sported, he was taking you all in. Shifting your body weight from foot to foot you watch as his eyes flicker over to the bathrooms, before looking right back at you. Signaling to you to meet him in the restroom, subtly you make your way to the restroom, excusing yourself from your group of friends, you push your way through the packed crowd, the club lighting shining off your skin. With each step you take, Wooyoung hawks you down with his eyes, drinking in your form, the way you move, the way your chest slightly heaves with anticipation of knowing what’s to come. He's got you wrapped around each individual finger.

Excusing himself from his own friends, he makes his way towards the restroom, following closely behind you. Shutting the door behind him, he braces himself against the door. His sharp eyes drift over to your form that is leaning against the wall right across from him, how can someone make you feel so small? Walking slowly over to you, he stops right in front of you, his body slightly towering over you.

Squatting down to your level, so he could get better eye contact with you, he wanted to make sure your full attention was on him. He didn’t want you looking up to him, he wanted to make sure you understood him, with no room for misinterpretations of things. His intense gaze made your face heat with embarrassment. You both had sung this song various times, danced this dance numerous times. Yet he always made sure he drilled what was going to happen into your head, and made sure that you understood that this would be nothing more or nothing less. Nodding your head letting him know that you are listening closely, and that you understood his every word, he drags you over to the first available stall, not wanting to waste anymore time.

Shoving you in the stall, he quickly locks the door, shoving your chest against the cool metal door, pulling up your dress, moving your soaked panties to the side, as he places sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. Your body so easily submits to him, he’s like a drug, you know he’s no good for you, you know he’s nothing but a user, yet you can’t stay away from him. He's your daily dose, as much as you are his.

Pulling your back flush against his chest, he slowly thrusts into you, causing you to let out a loud mewl. His fingers immediately find your throat, tightening his grip around it. His wet lips brush over your ear, which each deep thrust your body hikes up the bathroom stall door. With your dress around your waist he uses the scrunched fabric as a way to stabilize himself.

“Fuck Woo..” you choke out through a moan. A large grin takes over his face, clearly pleased at every loud sound that leaves your mouth, it helps aid and feed his ego. With one harsh thrust, your cunt clenches hard around him, pulling a loud groan from him, he wraps his hand even tighter around your throat. Cutting your airways off partially

“Do you know what your purpose is? Hm?” He grits out between clenched teeth. There is so much fury beneath his dark eyes yet you miss the storm that’s brewing behind them.

“Your purpose is to satisfy me, and only me.” Gripping the sides of your throat tighter with each word he spits. You let out a choked out noise, your cunt clenching with need, the sounds of his deep voice in your ear, no matter how degrading they are, is enough to make your eyes roll back.

“Isn’t that right?” He spits out, your lack of an answer annoys him, slapping the side of your face lightly, he cocks your head to the side, bringing his face close to yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your own, his soft plump lips lightly touching yours.

“I. Said. Isn’t. That. Right.” He says with a harsh slam of his hips in your cunt. Letting out a choked out moan, you scream nothing but confirming words to him. Acknowledging you are nothing but something for him to stuff his hard dick into when he pleases.

Nodding your head swiftly, your forehead rubs against the cold metal stall door. While your heart pulled with each thrust of his, your pussy clenched with need. You wanted Wooyoung all hours of the day, you didn’t care how he came, you just wanted him.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good.” He grits out through clenched teeth, cocking his head back as he picks up speed, the sound of skin slapping echos in the empty bathroom, not even caring if someone was to enter and hear the noises you two created. He had one goal, and only one goal in mind.

Gripping your hips tighter, your body crushed against the door, face completely smushed against it. Wrapping his hand around your waist while the other tugs the bunched up fabric around your waist. Making sure to slam your hips down with each thrust up, making sure to hit that spongy spot over and over again.

“Fuck, Fuck Woo…please.” You rush out, your sweaty hands find grip on the top of the stall door, trying to stabilize yourself. The door rattles from the movement of his thrusts. Gripping your waist tighter, speeding up the pace of his thrust, while keeping the same hard thrust. Your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasm washing over your body with a loud mewl. Your hands grip the door for dear life. Orgasm so intense, tears stream down your face. He thrusts harshly a couple more times, before he pulls out, shooting his cum all over your lower back. Giving his cock a couple more pumps. He slightly leans forward, his nose brushing against your neck, stepping back he tucks himself away, pulling your panties back over to cover your dripping cunt. He doesn’t even wipe the cum off of your back, pulling the dress down, he pats where his cum is sitting on your skin, like a stain, like a temporary tattoo that only he leaves you with, that you wear secretly with pride.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he helps you stand up, unlocking the stall door, as he washes his hands, he looks up, catching your eyes through the mirror. A wicked grin grows across his face. Your eyes grow big and glassy. Looking back down at his hands, your eyes take over him. Taking him in for what he truly is, a user, an abuser, an opportunist, a man who sells you nothing but wishes and dreams, just as he finishes drying his hands he makes his way over towards you, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead.

“It’s never going to be me…is it?” you whisper out quietly but loud enough for him to hear. With his lips still on your forehead, you feel them stretch into a smile.

“Don't ask questions you already know the answer to.”

DO NOT REPOST.

[undercovercameron]

a domesticated rafe cameron

summary: a bf headcanon for sir rafe m.f. cameron

notes: *NSFW NEAR THE END* i have been seeing so many headcanons for rafe as a bf recently and i used to do these all the time for other fandoms and people and holy fuck i miss and love them.. allow me to indulge myself. also a lot of these are not simply him being touchy or super cute positive ones bc he’s canonically a murderer and drug addict and felon sooo akdjdjd we all of course romanticize him but i just thought i’d say that. lemme know what you think !

tags: rafe cameron x reader

i think rafe is a very complicated kind of lover

he’s a complex ass dude as it is, so that obviously reflects in your relationships

your relationship probably started unconventionally, either because of a fuck up or drunken mistake or maybe even meeting him randomly on a golf course or on the beach and just immediately being drawn to each other

he wants someone that challenges him a Little bit but really just wants someone to go with the flow and let him take the lead

he already gets enough direction and bossy shit from his family

(probably a couple arguments have sparked because of that; he sees too much of rose or ward in you. it’s also something that draws him to you, though, so take it with a grain of salt)

on the topic of arguments, you two are no stranger to them

he always ends up apologizing though, even if you started it—he’d just much rather have your mouth on his than have it yelling at him and knows there’s always a way to get you back on his side

he’s a proud man, so his apologies are usually in the form of him complimenting you or giving entirely hypothetical situations in which he Possibly Might Be Sorry

you take it because it’s probably the best you’re gonna get

he shows his love and affection in a little different ways that other people you’ve dated

of course he’s no stranger to PDA

in fact it only puffs his chest that you want to be seen with him and touch him

he’ll never admit it, but he loves when you kiss his face

like duh,

but not just his lips, he really likes when you kiss him on the temple or just press your face to his cheek or peck at his jaw

he also likes when you hold onto his belt when getting his attention or trying to move him

a lot of your dates involve watching a movie or TV show, because truth be told he is a home body

maybe not his home, but def a home body

your house is a reminder that he is apart of your life; he sees the pictures, the movie tickets, his favorite chips (salt and vinegar, ew i know), or spares of toothbrushes and his clothes in your closet

in any social situation he is either looking at you, thinking of looking at you, touching you, or asking people where you are

he cannot stand to make small talk without his emotional support girlfriend at his side

you’re just so much funnier than all these other people

he prides himself on his ability to make you blush, and does it any chance he gets

he doesn’t really get to laugh a lot, as he is either in distress or about to get punched or reprimanded, so you’re always whispering some joke into his ear to get him to laugh. your success rate is much better than anyone else’s in his life

he knew he loved you when you grabbed his hand during a dinner you were at and some politician walked in with a very apparent and badly concealed nose job. you just mouth “oh my god” and he had to snort to cover up his laugh

you were also all dolled up and cute and sexy that night so that may have had something to do with him knowing he loved you

he is also a great communicator

it’s not in his nature to hide his feelings because they’re so fucking obvious on that expressive face of his

and he never knew he could have so much fun texting until you came along

now he’s a regular emoticon user

weird, right?

now onto spicy things,

you’ve never known a partner to ask you how you feel more than Rafe

it’s a praise thing, you think

he wants to hear that he feels good, that right there, that he fucks you so good, that he’s perfect for you

the nonverbal sign that all those are true is when you throw your head back and a gasp is caught in your throat

the very idea that your breath is stolen every time he does something good makes his heart skip a beat

his cheeks get very red while you’re having sex, so your cool fingers are usually petting them or pressed near them

you have a thing for his legs

i mean come on

he just walks around like that all day

he walks around with a dick like that in his pants all day, and you’re supposed to just ignore it?!

absolutely not

you especially like when he wears those hoochie daddy 5 inch inseam swim trunks, because you get to see where his skin gets a little paler and softer and it makes you get goosebumps at the thought of where it leads

those trunks are a treat usually, saved for a special occasion where he doesn’t have to be around his family and he can have you in his lap, hand trapped between your legs

let’s just say you two fuck like rabbits

two beautiful young adults, what else occupies your time?

it gets a little annoying for other people when you’re apart of their dinner party, because you’re always late, but then learn to just deal with it

it’s better to not have a sexually frustrated rafe cameron that accidentally stabs through his plate of rice and vegetables like that one time at the island club with your parents when you licked up a drop of lemon sauce from your chin and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head

decidedly not a great time or place to act like that

anyways,

i just think while yours’ and rafe’s relationship def has its ups and downs like all other relationships, your recovery period after an argument is remarkably high

you both know you’re not mad anymore, so it’s not worth it to be bad communicators and make it worse

at the end of the day, there’s always space for you in his bed, and he always welcomes you with a slap on the ass and a whisper of “we’re totally fucking in the shower tomorrow”

(and yes. you do)

notes: i hope this doesn’t seem to scatterbrained, i may or may not end up adjusting or editing this later to be closer to what i think would be him

[navstuffs]

Synesthesia

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

Summary: "A condition in which stimulation of one sense generates a simultaneous sensation in another". Or aka the fic where Gojo Satoru fucks you inside his domain expansion.

Trigger Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, SMUT, tiny squint of dubcon (reader goes mind blank inside the domain), creampie, multiple powerful orgasms, reader gender isn't mentioned

Author's Notes: probably the hardest smut i have ever written. idk how many times this has been done in the fandom (im sure tons) and one time i read this INSANELY good fic abt it and have never found it again. anyway, enjoy! credit on the images from this post right here.

other gojo fics

An average person will feel many sensations in this world, either physically and/or spiritually (if you believe in that type of stuff). Before meeting Gojo Satoru, your emotions were still there to remind you, hey, you are human: come and feel us; you can't stop us.

Everything changed after you met Satoru.

Gojo Satoru wasn't normal. Even in your first meeting, even without being a cursed user, you could tell something was off about him in the best way possible. The white hair, the ethereal blue eyes behind the sunglasses, or the fact that he consumed sweets as someone should be consuming water. Even your concerns about diabetes didn't feel necessary with this man. 

And then you started dating him. Yes, you, the average human being of this world, the single person in the million of eight billion or more. And he chose you, fell for you, for some crazy idea in his head. You became his new drug in the best way possible. Gojo Satoru could never have had enough of you. 

The kisses were intoxicating, and his neediness was that of someone who could not hear the word "no." Satoru would pout like a child, his head down enough that you could see his eyes shining through his sunglasses. And you would say "yes" as if only that vision persuaded you (it was your heart speaking).

Now, fucking Gojo Satoru, that was on a whole new level. At this point, you knew of the curses, the Jujutsu world, and the fact that somehow you are dating the strongest of that universe (?!). Fucking Gojo Satoru was not like fucking your other lovers. Satoru was entirely in during sex. As in head, soul, mind, the total package deal. And it was only fair you gave him the same. 

-x-

"What would happen to normal humans inside your domain expansion?" 

The question is met with curiosity by Gojo, who is wearing his black bandana today. He ponders for a moment, one finger toward his chin (because you said once he looked cute doing it, and he does it every time now). "They probably wouldn't be able to see it. Just feel it."

"Could it be considered safe?"

"Mhmmm, let me think. For some milliseconds. Why?"

"Nothing."

Oh, but Satoru had already perceived your interest. Your eyes did not meet his, and you tried to look away, embarrassed. His smile grew from his side lips until Satoru questioned, his voice low, " Is there anything I should know of?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

-x- 

That's how you end up on top of him, his dick buried deep inside your body. It is already overwhelming, suffocating almost, the air being pulled from your lungs every time your hips meet his, and you weren't even inside his domain yet. Satoru insisted on starting slowly for your safety: 0.1, 0.2 seconds max, according to his estimation. 

"Now?"

"Are you close?" You shake your head impatiently, furrowing your brows. "Didn't think so."

Differing from all the other nights, you sense Satoru's tension. He can't relax, not even without you moaning in his ear. It's not that Satoru believes he will hurt you; Satoru has to consider the slight possibility of what could happen if he lost control for a tiny second and ended up frying your brain on accident.

"'Toru. Focus on me." You demand, squeezing his nipple so he can come back to you.

Satoru reacts: he starts rubbing in between in the middle of your legs, stroking your sex in a way only he knew how to do, after weeks of studying your reactions every time you had sex. In less than two weeks, the prick had learned places you haven't even discovered yet. It had to be six eyes, giving your body away like that. Biting where the neck meets your shoulder together with a particular way of fucking you and hitting on the place that made you see stars could make you cum in minutes. You are thankful he is the strongest because Satoru had ruined you for any other person who existed. 

"Focus, honey."  His voice is steady, his chest heaving up and down.

If someone asked you how a mere mortal felt bringing God to his knees, you would know exactly how to explain. That's exactly how you felt fucking Satoru. Like now, with his hands on your hips, helping you sink inside further every time, your open palms resting on his chest for support. It feels powerful and mythical; his mouth parted away like that, licking his lips from time to time. Satoru is a proud moaner, loud and about - but for this time, his forehead is furrowed in concentration, and barely any noises are coming from him. If it were any other time, Satoru would have helped you or taken control when it had gotten too much for his small patience to handle, moving his hips until you were a blabbering mess.

But now, he has to be focused on not harming you. The situation is even more thrilling if you think like that. Bring a God to his knees because if you don't, he might kill you with his power.

"Satoru!" You moan, needy. A warning that you are getting close.

His white hands raise, and you watch (as always) fascinated as the bandana comes off, even forgetting about your looming orgasm. Gojo Satoru is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, and if you believe in reincarnation, about ten more lives. He has a smirk on his lips now, happy with the way he affects you. I mean, how couldn't he? 

"Domain expansion, Unlimited Void."

Everything stops. The air stops moving, and time stops. You are paralyzed, your eyes wide, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. Your mind goes blank in the total sense of that word; you can't form a single thought. You forget your name, can't remember your parents' names, or where you were born, what you do. 

At the same time, everything is being shown to you; your consciousness is there, floating lost in the sky, but you can't grasp it. The only thing you can feel is your orgasm, but even that feels like it has toned down, a small explosion the size of a jelly bean growing inside your stomach.

The next thing you know, you wake up in Satoru's arms, gasping for air, shaking, with tears coming down your eyes. You can't stop squirming, and you realize it is your orgasm, with so much energy that could light up an entire city, spreading in your veins and going back into your brain at a swift speed, amplifying your senses. Then you find yourself staring at Satoru's blue eyes, and your mind goes blank again, but not like when you were inside the Unlimited Void. No, now you can feel everything: Satoru's love, Satoru's shooting his cum inside of you, Satoru's hand gripping your hips, the scream coming out of your throat!

Satoru is murmuring something, praising you, saying he loves you, but you pass out again, and the entire world goes black. Satoru holds you, feeling your heartbeat, not placing his bandana on his eyes, your body twitching unconsciously. 

You return to him after a few minutes - if anyone asked Gojo, precisely two minutes, twenty seconds, two exact milliseconds, almost three. 

"'Toru?" Your voice sounds exhausted, grateful, and in disbelief all at the same time.

"I'm here, honey. I'm here. You are okay." He kisses your forehead, holding you tightly in his arms, still buried deep inside you.

Later, when you ask, Satoru will answer that he had felt your orgasm within you. He had never seen you so out of this world, literally dumbfucked. He won't confess he got worried for a second and ended up placing you inside his domain for ONLY one millisecond. You also won't confess yet that you wanted to try again, up to 0.3 seconds (normal humans wouldn't survive), but who cares? You want Satoru to fry your brain. Instead, you will roll your eyes at his answer, slapping his arm playfully, and he won't even turn infinite on because it is you. And who is he to ever deny you? You who finally made his life whole. 

You that had a God wrapped around your finger.

[dixons-sunshine]

👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Do you do yandere User x Chuuya? If not, then can i request a Chuuya x User who is a shapeshifter.

User can turn into any kind of dogs to just comfort him when he sad or something.

Or it can get creative in bed?

(P/s: i like your works, but also remember to take a rest and take care of yourself:3)

Ohhh yandere reader? Sure~ let’s see what we can do with that hehe… (also sorry for replying so late)

Dom!yandere!reader x sub!chuuya - reader is gn

Warning: not smut this time, gore (?), yandere behaviour - stalking, obsession, hair pulling, stepping, use of drugs, kidnapping, violence

“M-motherfucker…” chuuya cursed under his breath, feeling a shiver ran down his spine. He stood at the doorframe, one hand leaned against the wood and one bawled into a fist. In front of him was supposed to be the group of enemies he was expected to eliminate. Yet the state they were in, or- what was left of them can’t even be buried at this point. A grotesque scene with blood splattered everywhere, every furniture tainted red and a huge heart drawn on the wall opposite to the entrance. There were also letters written inside the heart, if you looked closely it spelled his name. Was someone playing a prank on him?

The worst is, this isn’t the first time, someone has been doing his work for him for months now. Every time he’d arrive at the designated spot, he’d be met with some bullshit like this, there’d be hearts out of blood or corpses everywhere as well. “Urgh! I’ll find that fucker next time.” He groaned, stomping out of the room in a fit of rage. Suddenly he heard a click sound and looked back, seeing nothing but the gigantic heart. The redhead gnarled his teeth, then used his ability to shatter the wall all while holding his hat down. If the cops came and saw his name, it would be troublesome.

Afterwards, he left without looking back, the only thing that lingered was his loud footsteps. Another click sound, this time paired with the noises of a fanatic fan, “ahhhh, so cute~!” Your bottom lip trembled in excitement as you stared at his shadow, hands clutching a camera. As soon as he was out of sight, you stared down at the photos you took. There was a great shot of him looking pissed, or angry, and using his ability… “ugh he looks so handsome here~” you clasped your hand over your mouth, heart pounding as your breathing ragged.

This started since you first caught a glimpse of him. It was during one of his undercover missions, were he infiltrated another organisation where you happened to work at. Due to sheer luck, he didn’t catch you, and you were simply smitten with him. How he killed with such brutality, with a scoff on his face and his foul mouth. Since then you’ve been fantasising about that angry expression he wore. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve seen.

But, with him inching closer and closer to the truth, it was time for you to reveal yourself. You’ve been waiting for this day for what felt like eternity anyway. That’s why you waited and waited, until he was all alone, in a vulnerable place. Then you approached him, tapping his shoulder. “Haah? What do you- mffFFHH..?!” Chuuya turned around, and little annoyed by your presence until you suddenly kissed him. Before he knew it, he felt himself swallowed something suspicious.

“Uh-ugHHh..!” He pushed you away before slapping you, fury spreading throughout his body. When he finally calmed down and looked at your face, his eyes widened. You were holding the cheek he slapped with one hand and grinning from ear to ear, a heavy blush covering your face while your eyes pierced him. “Fucking freak… the heck did you feed me?!” The male yelled, gritting through clenched teeth, ready to use his ability on you when he suddenly realised nothing happened. To say he was surprised wouldn’t be a good fit, he was baffled.

Now, he was staring at his hands while sweat formed on his forehead, how and why was this happening? Calm down calm down, even then, he’s a specialist in martial arts, there’s no way he’d lose against you. “That’s a new expression, I like it.” You chuckled with smiley eyes, closing the distance between the two of you. “Damn it, don’t come closer!” Chuuya shouted at you, backing up a few steps. He was just nervous, at how his ability wasn’t working. His mind rattled as fast as he could, that’s when he remembered the weird thing you made him swallow.

He growled once again while attempting to punch you, “tell me, what did you fed me?!” But this time he didn’t land, instead, you grabbed his wrist and threw him onto the ground. After that, you stepped onto his back with one foot. “UrghH..! B-bastard.” You could hear him whisper, though it was way more tame than before. “Keep glaring at me like that, I love that gaze.” Your chilly voice gave him a scare, making him freeze for a second. “Oh no, don’t stop, be angry at me, show me that beautiful face.”

And he did, trying to push himself up with his strength. Though it was difficult in such a position and without an ability. Each time he would get up a little, you’d crush his hopes almost instantly by using more force as well. You saw how much efforts he was putting into this, so you laughed and decided to answer his questions. “The pill I gave you was an ability repressor. Don’t worry, it isn’t gone forever.” Somehow, a part of him did calm down after hearing those words. Nothing went unnoticed under your watchful eyes though, you’ve studied him enough to notice very little shift on his features.

“That reminds me, how did you like the confessions of love I left for you?” What now? Confessions of love? You couldn’t possibly mean those fucked up paintings on the wall. As if you could read his thoughts, you fumbled with your pocket before taking out a batch of photos and dropping them onto the ground. These were all photos of him, tausends of different ones from all possible angles. He felt his breath hitching in his throat, at the craziness of the situation. So you were the one leaving all those disturbing and weird scenes behind, all because you liked him? How did you even know what missions he’d get?

Out of nowhere he giggled, then mumbled, “you fucking psycho, haha.. aren’t you just a perverted stalker?” His words didn’t really affect you, but his furious face did. You felt your chest tighten, blood rushing and stomach curling. This sweet and twisted feeling didn’t want to leave you alone, so you’ve decided to chase it. “Yes, just like that. Look at me just like that, chuuya.” You smirked all lustful, breathing hitching while mentioning his name.

He really didn’t want to hear you say his name, it made him feel repulsed, disgusted even. “What do you want from me.” Chuuya snapped, glaring at you with murderous intention. “I just want you to be mad at me, so please do it, chuuya ♡” you admitted, clasping your hands together then lowering yourself to his level. Then, you grabbed his hair and yanked on it, making him look up. “UrghHH!! Let go of me you fucker!!” That action of yours was obviously immediately met with more insults and vicious names from the boy.

To his dismay you looked satisfied, happy that he was such a stubborn individual. “How I’d love for this to go on forever, haaah~ to watch that gorgeous expression on your face until I’ve mesmerised it.” You rambled to yourself, and he gulped loudly, getting an uneasy feeling. “But i have to put it on hold for now. It’s alright, we will have all the time in the world.” As soon as you finished your little speech, you clasped a hand over his mouth and stuffed something in again.

“MfffGHH!! F-fUHNM!!” He tried to shake your hand off, bite it, refuse it, yet nothing worked. You didn’t let loose until you were sure he ate it. All this time you had an ecstatic look on your face, smirking satisfied and joyful, as if you were enjoying it. Then he felt his consciousness fading, vision blurring as the last thing he heard was, “sleep tight, chuuya.”

[anothertransauthor]

hiya !! this is a bit of an odd request but is there any chance you'd be willing to write pickles x reader , where the reader has shied away from alcohol / substances all their life until they start embracing them after becoming close with pickles ? all good if not , thank you and have a great day !! o7

Oooh i kinda adore this trope ngl. keep coming with these bangers im so excited!

Only With You

Summary: Dethklok's newest babysitter has been observed to be quite the dildo. They never want to drink with them, smoke, or generally party with them in a significant way. Pickles opens his own investigation into them and starts to genuinely enjoy the time they spend alone. Maybe he'll lower their walls, and open them to some new mind-altering experiences.

Warning: obvious drug and alcohol use, as a general pot user I'm going to be as specific as possible. I'm going to make this as fluffy as possible but there might be some suggestive content. Reader has they/them pronouns

Word count: 2345

"What are you? Schome kind of fucking schquare?" Murderface quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye as he nudged Nathan playfully. "Yeah, come on, don't be a dildo," Nathan retorted, his deep voice rumbling with frustration as he batted Will away from him.

Their banter filled the cramped bar, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting a dim glow on the worn-out furniture and peeling wallpaper. As the tension between Murderface and Nathan escalated, Toki attempted to intervene, his gentle voice drowned out by Skwisgaar's disdainful remarks about both of them being a "lady dildos." The atmosphere grew increasingly tense, their argument blending with the other patrons' raucous laughter and clinking glasses.

Feeling overwhelmed, y/n glanced around the bar, a headache forming from the noise. Just as they were about to suggest leaving, Pickles came to the rescue, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"I know a quiet spot; let's dip while they're distracted," Pickles suggested, his voice low and inviting. The air was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke and distant laughter, creating a hazy ambiance that enveloped them both.

Y/n hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing their features. "I don't know, Charles might kill me for leaving them by themselves," they replied, their voice tinged with uncertainty.

Pickles waved off their concern with a casual shrug. "He'll get over it as long as they don't drive. Then again, they wouldn't leave without me. So therefore, we can hang out in a cool alleyway while they drink themselves to the ground."

With a sigh, y/n bit their lip, their mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Despite their hesitation, the allure of escape beckoned, tempting them to leave the chaos of the bar behind.

After much internal debate, y/n finally nodded and walked with Pickles into the alley. It was nothing spectacular, but the relative quietness offered a welcome respite from the clamor of the bar. The cool wind brushed against their skin, causing goosebumps to rise on their arms.

"So uh...this is where you run off to when they get loud," y/n remarked, their breath forming wispy clouds in the frosty air. "Shoulda known to check the alley."

"Aww, you look for me?" Pickles teased, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled a joint from his pocket.

Y/n watched in awe as Pickles took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a halo. The air was thick with the scent of cannabis, earthy and pungent, mingling with the sharp bite of the night air. "For as much as you brag about being rich, you think your lighter could use an upgrade?" y/n teased, their voice laced with amusement.

"Eh... this lighter and I have a history," Pickles chuckled softly, leaning against the cold brick wall. "I smoked my first ever blunt with this Zippo... would you believe I stole it from my dad?"

As Pickles continued to talk about other crazy stories, y/n found themselves drawn in by his easy charm and effortless charisma. They watched as his fingers traced over the worn metal, the flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the alley wall.

"Yeah...I believe it," y/n replied, their voice soft with admiration. "So you've been smoking a long time, huh?"

"For as long as I can remember, y'know, before I got into the other shit," Pickles admitted, nudging a crate beside him. "You've been standing a while; you should sit."

Their body moved instinctively, gravitating towards Pickles as they settled onto the crate beside him. With a sigh of relief, y/n felt the tension begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of calmness in Pickles' presence.

The silence between them was almost palpable, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind and the occasional clink of cans on the ground. Despite their attempts to enjoy the tranquility, y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling of restlessness that gnawed at their mind.

"Wow..." they laughed awkwardly, their fingers fidgeting with their sleeves. "A whole five minutes without being asked to partake...must be a new record."

"No sense in pushing it; it's a waste of good pot," Pickles remarked casually, his demeanor relaxed and nonchalant. "Besides, the first high will be shit if you don't know what you're getting into."

Y/n nodded in agreement, their gaze drifting down to their hands. "You just make it look so easy..."

Pickles tilted his head, the crimson strands of his hair falling over his shoulder as he regarded y/n with a knowing smile. "Make what look easy?"

"Everything!" y/n blurted out, their words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "Just...everything you do is effortless. You make it look so easy to talk to people and operate under pressure like nothing affects you. I want to relax, and I want the rest of the band to like me...and I shouldn't be rambling right now, but it's like I can't stop myself because my brain just won't—"

"Shut up?" Pickles interrupted gently.

Y/n blushed brightly, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "S-sorry..."

"No...like your brain just won't shut up? I get it. Hell, why do you think I smoke this stuff?" Pickles reassured them, nudging them with his shoulder. "It's not easy being so laid back; it takes practice."

"Practice?" y/n echoed, their curiosity piqued.

Pickles nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Gotta practice not worrying what other people think. I'm fucking famous; who cares what nobody at the bar has to say? It's vain, I know, but it works. It's easy to be friends with people when you can shut off that little nag in the back of your head. You just have to stop assuming people are out to get you."

Y/n nodded in understanding, their thoughts swirling as they absorbed Pickles' words of wisdom. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the silence punctuated only by the soft sound of their laughter and the occasional drag of the joint. Despite the cold, y/n felt a warmth spreading through them, a sense of peace settling over their troubled mind. As they sat side by side, y/n couldn't help but admire Pickles' easygoing demeanor and the way he seemed to effortlessly navigate through life's challenges. For a moment, they forgot about their worries and insecurities, lost in the simple pleasure of his company. And as they took a hesitant puff of the joint, feeling the smoke fill their lungs and the tension melting away, y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

Their eyes wandered over Pickles, taking in every detail with an almost reverent appreciation. Each freckle, every smile line, and the faint scars that adorned his skin told a story of a life well-lived, adding to his allure in the dimly lit alleyway. Despite the chill in the air, the warmth emanating from Pickles enveloped them, comforting and reassuring like a soft embrace.

As they sat there, a thought lingered in their mind: why was everything about him just so perfect? His casual demeanor, his effortless charm—it all seemed to come naturally to him, effortlessly captivating those around him.

Caught off guard by Pickles' quizzical expression, y/n felt a blush creep into their cheeks as they realized they had been caught staring. But Pickles' playful demeanor quickly put them at ease, his snicker breaking the tension that hung in the air.

"You see something you like?" he cheesed lightly, dramatically waggling his brows.

"No- I mean yes- I mean- shit.... uh-"

"Relax, I'm messing with you," Pickles chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "I gotta teach you how to flirt."

"Heh...um, actually, I was maybe wondering if I could try..." y/n trailed off, their gaze flickering towards the burning joint in Pickles' hand.

"Holy shit, you actually wanna smoke with me?" Pickles exclaimed, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

"Well...kinda. Maybe it won't be so overwhelming if it's with you..." y/n admitted, their nerves beginning to dissipate in Pickles' reassuring presence.

"I'll take care of ya, don't worry," Pickles reassured them, passing the dutchie with a gentle hand. "Don't try to show off, ok? Baby hits..."

After calming their shaking hands, y/n carefully placed the joint between their lips, their senses heightened as they inhaled deeply. The taste was harsh, earthy, and unfamiliar, causing their shoulders to tense with each choppy cough.

"Deep breath. You're gonna choke no matter what, you got virgin lungs. 'S normal," Pickles reassured them, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"It tastes like dirt..." y/n grimaced, their discomfort evident in their expression.

"Well, it's weed; it's gonna taste bad," Pickles shrugged, his easygoing demeanor soothing y/n's nerves. "Take one more, then pass it back."

With a nod of determination, y/n took another deep breath, the smoke swirling around them in ethereal patterns. Despite the initial discomfort, a sense of calm washed over them, easing the tension in their shoulders and allowing them to relax fully in Pickles' company.

Pickles extinguished the joint with a flick of his wrist, the ember sputtering out as he tucked the carton back into his pocket. Leaning back against the cool brick wall, he regarded Y/n with a curious expression. "So, short stuff, how do you feel?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine interest. Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. "You're one to talk," they scoffed, a small smile playing at their lips. "I feel…slow, but in a good way. Like, I can finally think clearly, funnily enough."

"Yeah?" Pickles raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah...is this how you feel constantly?" y/n returned the question, genuinely curious about Pickles' experience.

"More or less," Pickles snorted, kicking around some cans on the ground with a lazy gesture. "I could get used to this," y/n mused, a sense of contentment settling over them like a warm blanket. "It feels…easier to talk as if a barrier was temporarily moved to the storage room of my brain. This is nice. Thanks, Pickles." "Hey, any time," Pickles replied, a genuine smile gracing his features. "You remind me a lot about myself, actually."

Y/n tilted their head curiously, they scooted closer to Pickles, craving his warmth in the chilly night air. "How so?" they asked, their voice soft and curious. Pickles paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he considered his response. "I used to worry about how everyone perceived me," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I was always so…strung up, like the world was out to get me." He chuckled softly, the sound rough and raspy in the stillness of the alley. "I know I'm nothing but a pampered, rich airhead," he admitted, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet y/n's eyes. "But I know this job keeping us out of trouble isn't exactly the easiest. If no one else is on your team, you can relax knowing that the world's best drummer is." Y/n felt a flutter in their chest, their cheeks flushing as they met Pickles' gaze in the dim lighting. His words were simple, yet they held a profound depth of meaning that resonated with them. "Pickles, I—" they started, their words catching in their throat as they struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions. They leaned away slightly, suddenly self-conscious about intruding on his personal space. But before they could retreat too far, Pickles grinned cheesily, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Geez…you really are the coolest," they blurted out, a shy smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Pickles' grin widened, his laughter echoing off the walls of the alley. "You think?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

The air between them crackled with anticipation as y/n struggled to find the right words, their gaze locked with Pickles' in an unspoken exchange of longing and desire. In that moment, everything else faded away—the noise of the city, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, suspended in time. Pickles waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently urged y/n to speak their truth. He could see the turmoil in their eyes, the raw vulnerability laid bare, and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him.

Finally, y/n took a deep breath, their voice trembling slightly as they found the courage to voice their feelings. "Everything about you has always been cool," they began, their words soft and hesitant. "I wish I could say I was jealous, but…I don't think that's it." A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken attraction that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. Pickles' heart soared with a newfound sense of hope, his gaze never wavering from y/n's as he silently encouraged them to continue.

"Oh?" he prompted, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation. He knew what they were about to say, could feel it in the way their gaze lingered on him, and he silently willed them to take the leap. Y/n hesitated for a moment, their mind racing with a new uproar of butterflies. But then, with a surge of determination, they pushed aside their doubts and fears, allowing their heart to lead the way. "How do I say this…" they trailed off, their voice barely above a whisper. "Other than I just don't want tonight to end…" And in that moment, the weight of their confession hung heavy in the air, the tension between them palpable. But before either of them could say another word, Pickles closed the distance between them, his lips capturing Y/n's in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, the world fading away until nothing was left but the warmth of their embrace. And as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, y/n felt a sense of peace settle over them, knowing they had finally found the courage to speak their truth. "Me neither," Pickles whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and affection. "Let's make tonight last forever."

______________________________________________________________

ok that took a really really long time. now time to go back into my writer whole. Leave more requests for me :DD

EDIT: HI so for some fucking reason in the translation from docs to tumblr, half of the fucking fic was just OMITTED. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE UGHHHHH im so sorry yall if the pacing felt weird. thats what i get for not proof reading before i post but i was SO EXCITED to have another bomb fic doneeeeee.

[captainjamster]

Underrepresented!Reader Series

Pairing(s): Price x recovering drug user reader Warnings: Discussions of drug use/abuse, contemplation of driving under the influence Wordcount: 2.1k Summary: An impulse to relapse in your sobriety is halted when John catches you sneaking out. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: Terribly sorry to be selfish, but I have to admit, this one is entirely for me. I am genuinely nervous to post this one, I know the world isn't always friendly in its perception of individuals struggling with substance usage, but we're sending it.

Full fic is under the cut <3

The urges have been picking away at your sanity for the last week.

Each floorboard creaks a song of your deception, calling out their weary complaints tauntingly with each step you take, and you pray the noise isn’t loud enough to wake John. It was easy enough to untangle yourself from his limbs, kissing his temple and murmuring something about the toilet when he reached for your departing figure with a sleepy grumble. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom was more challenging, the door pushed open and tugged close again just for effect, straining your ears with the air caught in your chest as you waited for his breathing to even out into deep, rumbling snores.

The further away your bedroom gets, the more your resolve begins to crack as you ride the dip of the overwhelming desire, rationality fighting through the impulses that beg to occupy your conscious thoughts. It’s not too late to turn back, slip under the covers again and back into John’s arms. Feel the grunt vibrate through his chest when you let him know you just needed a glass of water from the kitchen, that’s all, and fall back asleep to face the same dilemma all over again in the morning.

You keep walking, focusing your attention on the careful placement of your feet as the floor turns from wood to tiles, trying to drown the cacophony of thoughts rattling through your head. Though the kitchen is far enough away from the bedroom that the noise should die before it travels, you can’t help the hesitancy you move with. Like maybe if you’re quiet enough, the guilt eating at your chest will be, too.

Looking out the window that peaks between the curtains, droplets of rain are illuminated by the warm glow of the streetlights. Your pyjamas are too thin and skimpy for the unforgiving chill of the winter air, and the dressing gown you snagged from the bedroom door would only keep you so warm if you walked. Frustration flares as you consider another obstacle in your path, resurfacing the tug of war between relapsing or sobriety you’re trying to avoid as an irritatingly logical voice in your head pleads you not to disappoint John, not to disappoint yourself like this. The car it is, then.

Grabbing the damn metal without sending tinkling chimes echoing through the house is agonising, and you wince with every clang of the keys. It takes some patience to guide them out the wired basket they live in without catching them on the aluminium wires, exhaling a relieved sigh when they’re safe in your hand. The keys eat at your palm as you grip them, shimmying your slippers on delicately as you brace yourself to coax the door open, doubts flying through your head as you get deeper in.

The more you consider it, driving seems too risky. Maybe if you roll the car in neutral, you can push it down the street, far away enough that the engine coming to life won’t rouse John from his sleep – but you can’t drive back fucked up, especially not if you overdo it. Pain throbs in your hand as you clutch tighter at the keys, feeling the dents they make in your palm without looking.

Fuck it. It would be way easier to drive home with everything, pull up across the street and push your car back into the driveway. You can’t do it in the car – god, John would be so upset if the sniffer dogs ever alerted to his car – but there is that public bathroom down the street. At this point, even your own damn backyard could work. That’s a problem for when you have the drugs in your hands.

Convincing yourself there’s nothing to fret over with the illusion of a solution, you push yourself off the wall, reaching out for the doorknob. You know it clicks when you open it, but maybe if you’re slow enough, then –

“Hey, baby.”

The keys jingle almost comedically as your grip loosens, freezing in place as your blood runs cold. You feel like a deer caught in the headlights, fumbling as you try to work out the right response. “John…”

It takes a moment for your body to cooperate and turn on the spot. John’s eyes are puffy with sleep, one palm pressed into his socket as he squints at you with the other, running his hand up and down through the hair of his chest. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

There’s no accusation in his voice, despite that you know he’s smart enough to have worked it out. Your hand falls back to your side, clutching at the soft fabric of your gown.

“S’just…”

He shuffles over drowsily, yawning against the back of his hand as he stops just out of reach, leaving enough distance to keep you from feeling cornered. You can’t keep contact with his gaze, trailing down his bare chest, the waistline of his boxers, to his bare feet where it stays. John takes note of the hesitant silence, the way your body trembles in the shadows of the moonlight, and gently asks another question.

“What did you want to go out for, baby?”

He’s so sweet. Giving you the benefit of the doubt, a chance to explain without pushing assumptions and imagining the worst. It leaves a bitterness in your mouth, self-pity clawing at your chest as you crash with the disappointment of the moment, so torn between being grateful and being fucking pissed that you’re caught.

“You know.”

It burns to admit, struggling to swim through the shame and disgust rising in your body. Admitting it explicitly feels too much, but John still understands, humming acceptingly without any displeasure. When your eyes flicker back up to his face, his brows are furrowed in a loving concern, looking over you in that way John does when he’s trying to solve all of your problems in his head.

“Come sit on the sofa with me, love?” He prompts, extending a hand for the keys. You stare into his hand, raising your own arm to hover above his palm reflexively, but your fingers fight to loosen around the metal.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “it’s okay. I’m not going to stop you, this is your choice. At least let me drive you so I know you’re safe.”

The proposal breaks your heart. Sneaking around to do drugs behind John’s back is one thing, but dragging him into it is another – one that’s entirely off limits. Your head is shaking urgently before you can find words, pulling your hand away to stuff the keys back into their basket. “Absolutely not. No, never.”

He drops his arm, bringing it back to his side. “S’alright too, darlin’. Just an offer.”

The space falls quiet as he watches you patiently, leaving time for you to speak up or make a move. When stillness keeps you rooted to the spot, hands tangled forcefully in the plush of the gown, he pipes up again. “Speakin’ of offers, would you come to the sofa with me? We can stay here, but it’s a bit comfier than the floor.”

The lightness in his tone is another gentle reassurance he’s not mad as you nod slowly, tugging at the inside of your lip to hold back the floor of tears. You sink lower into the mess of your emotions with each step, trying to keep composure as you follow him to the sofa. The plush furniture groans as John settles into it, purposely leaving his arm wide for you to curl into him. It takes a moment to curl up against him, feeling undeserving of the unconditional warmth he wraps you in as he tugs you closer.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on, doll.” He whispers, running a hand through your hair.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He hums understandingly, allowing you to continue without interruption.

“S’been bad the last week. Can’t stop thinking about it, everything reminds me of it in the most irrelevant ways. It’s like it never leaves my mind. It makes me fucking miserable.” The air struggles to reach your lungs through your choked up throat, breath hitching as you fight to keep it under control.

“Thought that…” Swallowing around the lump of shame in your throat is painful. “I thought I could just go out for one deal, just one. Could come home before you wake up, shower, and I could be happy again and you wouldn’t be stuck dealing with me like this! Just for a week, a few days, even a fucking day. Just some fucking reprieve from this bullshit.”

The words tumble out as the floodgates break, pressing your face against John’s bare chest. Soothing hushes fall from his lips, rubbing his hand up and down your back as you crumble into him.

“It’s okay, my love.” His breath is warm against your scalp with every word. “I know it’s been tough for you lately, baby, I see you workin’ so hard.”

The assurance has you sobbing harder, shoulders shaking as you gulp down oxygen between wails, and he does nothing but hold you closer. “You’re doing such a good job staying sober. Must’ve been so hard to fight those urges all week. Sounds like there was a lot triggering you, huh?”

All you can do is nod weepily, bringing a sleeve up to wipe at your runny nose. Words feel far from your grasp as the emotional intensity of your week fully hits you, but John doesn’t stop with the hushed reassurances. “M’not mad, you haven’t disappointed me, love. So proud of you for still tryin’. Even if y’did go, you wouldn’t disappoint me. These things happen.”

Your chest aches as tears stain your face, slick against his damp skin that catches each drop. John doesn’t care about the snot or tears tangling his hair, letting you sob into his chest like a tissue. “You’ve been strong for the last few months, it’s okay if you fall this time. S’okay even if you fall tomorrow, and the day after that.”

Each breath is still ragged, shaking your figure with a fierceness that won’t let you keep your fingers together. John steps in, sliding his fingers between yours, rubbing circles over the back of your hand. “I know, sweet thing. Can you try’n breathe with me? Know y’can do it, take a breath with me, jus’ like that.”

He takes a deep, purposeful inhale that moves you with him, exhaling it slowly and repeating until your breath falls in peaceful synchronisation. For however long passes by, it’s just you and John rocking through the last of your distress, the warmth of his body and touch of his skin keeping you from floating too far back into the guilt and temptation ringing through your mind.

“Remember what your therapist said?” John speaks up, soft voice echoing through the quiet, dark living room. “Urges and relapsing are a part of your sobriety.”

“Being sober isn’t a destination, it’s a journey,” you mumble into him, closing your eyes as the mantra washes over you.

The room falls silent for long enough that you almost dose off, lost between the comforting touches of John and the weariness that begins to replace your fading adrenaline.

“With me, sunshine?” John prompts, running his nails along your scalp soothingly as he catches the dwindling of your consciousness. Despite the hoarse, watery “yes” you mumble into his chest hairs, you can still hear the smile in his voice as he responds. “What can I do for you, hm? Anythin’?”

You reject him with a refusing hum, shaking your head. “Nothin’, just stay here.”

“Couldn’t think of anythin’ I want to do more. I’ll carry you back if you fall asleep.”

The thought of putting John through any more trouble tonight has you frowning, pushing yourself away from him despite his reluctance to loosen his grip, giving you a curious look.

“Save you the trouble, let’s go now.”

His eyes crinkle with the turn of his lips, smiling at you affectionately as you rise. Your hands intertwine as he reaches out, only loosening when he tugs the dressing gown off your shoulders, hanging it over the door as you make your way to the bed. Despite your head start, his long legs move him quicker, pulling the blankets back for you.

You slip in between the sheets, feeling the bed dip as John crawls in his side. His arms are open expectantly before you have to say anything, smoothing the sheet out to create a comfy spot for you that you snuggle into without hesitation.

The muscles hidden under that soft layer of fat in his arms flex and release as he wraps his arms around you, finding a protective purchase on the soft rises of your body. A pang of gratefulness rattles your chest, and you squeeze your eyes shut, breathing in the smell of your lover. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into the gentle lull John coaxed you into before, and once he’s sure you’re soundly asleep, he sinks into unconsciousness with you.

dividers by cafekitsune

[hermitw]

(anime-only friendly post)

I'll have to reread JJK0 to rly have a stance on this but

At this point I feel like Geto did nothing wrong, even if the worm curse was not drugging him like banana fish (explained here).

Geto was misunderstood. He didn't declare that he was planning to kill all non-sorcerers. Gojo said that. Geto called him ignorant for it and walked away for not being listened to. To have a world of sorcerers could take a gradual path by teaching, by finding those like Nanako and Mimiko (one of the guys in their family was in a similar position, I forget his name rn). Geto traveled far for a family of sorcerers and to remove cursed spirits.

I think his parents weren't killed for being non-sorcerers, but for being a part of that cycle of violence toward them. Geto might have given them a second chance, taking the twins to his parents house, when they got violent. We don't know exactly what went down with them.

Gojo continues to have negative rizz (this analysis contains manga spoilers. Tldr, Gojo misunderstands another lover, potentially) so it feels like a pattern to me.

We've often pointed out that Sukuna's love language would be violence, that using his stronger techniques is a sign of respect toward his opponent.

But I'm realizing now, Gojo is the same way - it shows that a partner can keep up with them. We know that Geto and Gojo used to get into fights at school (and Geto even used his curse manipulation technique without notifying the staff first, like he usually would because of the unregistered cursed energy). Geto said fuck the rules, I'm on your level (by your side).

BUT AT THE KFC, Geto didn't pull out a curse. He didn't fight (for) Gojo - not even when he pulled out the hollow purple hand. Geto just told him to choose his own path, there would be meaning in that. That he's no longer by his side. Geto said there would be a point to killing him, but I think it was to follow the order of his execution, to feed into the oppressive system on jujutsu sorcerers. Geto decided to be the one who diverges from the rules of jujutsu society, to decide that some non-sorcerers have so much power that they are as dangerous as curse users, even if they have no cursed techniques.

Geto had come to terms with the separation - they'd been sent on missions alone too often, and he felt left behind by Gojo's growth (along with how different he was since the fight with Toji - they didn't grow closer from that traumatic event, but became distant from there).

I would love to see someone who's fluent in Japanese break down their conversation - to me it reads like Geto is telling Gojo, I have a family now. I have to look after them. And if my parents were just like the group that killed Riko, or the village that beat up and locked kids in a cage for having abilities... Then it's irresponsible of me to let the cycle of hate continue there, just because they are my parents.

Anyway, Geto killed people. He targeted those in power, those with money, those who exploit the weak for their own greed, those who scapegoat innocent children and criminalize sorcerers for the curses' atracks (when the curses are only born from the non-sorcerers in the first place).

First, the village with Nanako and Mimiko.

Then his own parents (which I'm going to assume were the same way, I have my own headcanon that he left his family early for a monastery and then went to jujutsu high but I'm not rly sure what's up).

And the cult - he specifically calls to the stage and kills the man who hired Toji to kill Riko. And had Shiu gather to that meeting the members in positions of power and money.

There's also the deal with Geto calling non-sorcerers monkeys, which carries a gross and racist feeling (at least through a western lense, I've seen so many jokes about him being racist and planning a genocide, but I don't think that's really accurate). We can say that it was sleep learning from Toji. I think it stuck with him for a very simple reason.

Yuki Tsukumo gave Geto an existential crisis by telling him that curses only exist because of non-sorcerers (except for when a sorcerer dies and becomes the curse). Geto knows what curses taste like. Think about going to the zoo - you can smell the monkey area already, can't you? It's very distinct and memorable. It stays with you. The curses that Geto swallows are like that, but even worse. I posted here about the smell lingering in his sinuses and that's why he uses sanitizing spray after seeing Mrs. Sa(i)to and her daughter.

So just like monkeys live and poop and are associated with the stench, non-sorcerers get emotional and leak cursed energy. Others might see and hear curses, and occasionally they might smell (sorry Eiso I know you're insecure about having a musty back but I can't think of another example, maybe this doesn't happen with cursed spirits), but Geto is alone in knowing the taste and making this connection.

Anyway, Geto still clearly believes that the strong should protect the weak, whether they're sorcerers or not, that's what he spends his life doing.

And when he died saying that he still hates those monkeys - hate is different than genocide. He's been basically eating their vomit for the majority of his life. Not to mention the curses that killed his friends.

Ultimately, though, we don't get to see anyone Kenjaku uses as a vessel live their own life except for Geto. And I don't believe that the worm would have been necessary for most victims - but Geto and his best friend were 2 of the strongest sorcerers. Whoever Kenjaku was living as at the time had to be calculating and careful.

I don't know when Toji got the worm, but I think that Kenjaku needed to use it on Toji himself, and not only as a mediator to pass it onto Geto.

Idk much about Toji's life, but it seems like he was healing with his wife, and maybe he was still taking out curse users (though I want to use that term lightly bc ultimately it's the higher ups who decide who is a sorcerer vs a curse user), but I'm not sure he would have gone after Gojo or Geto or the star plasma vessel without the sudden grief or the worm.

Kenjaku likely was the founder of the time vessel association (which makes me laugh when Toji says thank you founder and shiu is like, ugh he is not the founder dumbass), which is from the Nara era. At the least we know that he was trying to destabilize Tengen. He needed someone to kill Riko. He needed Toji to lose his sense of reality, responsibility. (kenjaku was probably either in that group or sending them messages that they believed were like a sign from god)

So i feel more confident now in believing that Kenjaku did cause Megumi's mother's death. It seemed to happen by the time of Gojo and Geto's first year in jujutsu high.

In the end, love wasn't the greatest curse of all. It was the failure to understand Geto -

And Geto decided that he didn't need anyone to understand. He was giving up on Gojo, and on the rules.

It seems like Yuki Tsukumo and Geto kept in touch, judging by the end of the Shibuya incident. I wouldn't be surprised if one of their goals was to teach more people to become sorcerers or at least control their cursed energy, even if they can't see spirits.

Even if Geto were now curse user witn a death sentence, he still used his technique to absorb curses, a way to remove them from non-sorcerer victims without the stress or violence of exorcism (he didn't have to keep swallowing curses, instead of manipulating the ones he already had. But most people don't have resistance to curses, so he prioritized making things easier for the weak).

I imagine that some of these people got hyped about it, asking to learn, and were able to join a class that might focus on breathing techniques, visualization, etc (even if they could just control emotions better, that would help}. Larue's ability would make him a good teacher, and we really don't know what role he would have played otherwise.

[chadchady]

Dom m!user x bot! FTM soap

Warning - mdni, fem aligned dni, scent kink, barebacking, breath play?, noncon, PiV, cunnilingus(not really tbh) , face sitting, fingering, masterbation, helplessness, ig somno, underwear fetish,

You were new, or the newest. You had been there for two months so far. While you had been welcomed with open arms, a specific sergeant welcomed you with open legs and a nice hairy cunt in between them. Not literally but it seemed like it. Soap was addicted to you, your scent, your face, hair, muscles, legs, anything and everything.

It had been your average day on base, a lot of hurry up and wait, paperwork, a headache pounding from the yelling. You are currently sitting in the empty mess hall at 11 pm, sipping some peppermint tea, you could feel yourself getting ill already, fuck you hated flu season. You tried to inhale through your nose but couldn’t, you grab a rough napkin and blow your nose with a groan. You grab a second napkin, dapping the sweat off your forehead and neck. You rest your head on the table for a few seconds but your startled out you dazed state by what feels like breeze, you look back, nothing, but you notice the napkin you wiped your sweat on was gone. Your too tired to care.

You drag your feet all the way back to your room, you feel hot, like you have a fever, so you strip. Now butt ass naked, you flop down on your bed and quickly fall asleep. You’re awoken way too soon by a scuffle and creak of the floor. You tiredly look up to see soap.

“Soap?” You groan as you rub your eyes “hey uh, I saw you in the uh uh mess hall, so I-I came to check on you- I saw you I-in the mess hall” he stutters a little, he seemed nervous. He quickly exits you room without saying anything. You would go see what’s up but. You’re too sick to care. Meanwhile, soaps having the time of his life in his room.

He’s laying against the headboard of his bed, one hand playing with his soaked cunt, the other holding your musky underwear up to his face, huffing the scent like it’s a drug. His whines and moans of desperation are muffled by the underwear, the drool slowly dripping down his face is caught by the underwear. It’s not enough for him, he needs the real smell, he needs your cock inside of him.

He pushes himself out of bed, he grabs a pair of loose shorts and slips them on before leaving his room. He hurriedly makes his way to your room. Soaps mind is clouded by arousal, he can hardly think about anything but you. He carefully opens your door and sees you sitting up, half awake, aggressively blowing your nose. You groan when leaning over to throw the tissue away. The noise makes Soaps thighs clench.

“Hey, i think I have a remedy” he says with a smile, though you can’t see it through the darkness. Soap would be awkward about this normally but the fog in his mind was just additional confidence. “What?” You croak, voice hoarse and painfully raspy. “Just lay back, close your eyes and open your mouth” he mutters and you do it. In a few seconds, you feel heat about your face and before you can process it you feel Soaps hot pussy against your face, his thighs squeezing your head. You feel too sick to do anything. He’s grinding against your face, it’s hard to breathe, but you liked the musky smell more than oxygen anyways.

You feel his hands firmly planted on your chest to help himself buck against your face, high whines and moans fill the room. With an particularly deep breath, you feel yourself cough against his cunt. Soap, who moans loudly at the odd sensation as he arches his back, giving you a moment(less than a second) to catch your breathe before grinding again. For what feels like and eternity of oxygen deprivation and the slick dripping down your face and neck and onto the bed, Soap finally pushes himself off your face. He pulls the covers down to expose your cock to him, he practically moans in excitement and desperation.

He takes little time to spit on your cock and stoke it a few times before he positions himself over it. He plunges it deep inside himself pulling an explicit moan from his throat and a weak groan from you. He sets a pelvis cracking pace. You feel your head pounding and lift your hand up to his face before shoving two fingers into his mouth, which he moans around and begins sucking and licking them. You buck your hips up into him and with a loud moan (that your fingers couldn’t even muffle) he squirts all over you, which makes you cum into his warm pussy. You feel the exhaustion take over and you pass out.

Soap contracted your sickness the next day

Should I make a outsiders au?

[the-creature230307]

do not interact with the user @/sillylittlekittyx3.

i hate to be apart of drama and things like that but as they get more prominent in the community i just want to warn users about them.

Please do not bully this person as they have mental health issues, just block!

i would appreciate if this post was spread around, but you don't have to.

info under the cut, tw: abuse, lying, manipulation.

Since their name is public and it is not their legal name then i will call them by this name.

Currently they are living in my home for reasons I do not wish to disclose.

I have known them for about 4 months and my current boyfriend of one and a half years, Quinn, and i used to be in a polyam relationship. When we were in this relationship, Quinn made me do things with him that i didn't want to do. my mother made a house rule that we can not go into each other's rooms without mom present for our safety. Quinn did not follow this rule. Not only did he not follow this rule but he would also go into my room, and would not leave unless i gave him what he wanted.

Most of the time what he wanted was physical affection. I will not explain fully but I have a history of sexual trauma and he has a history of sexual agression, even so to the point where he was detained for it.

He has been to a psych ward recently due to hurting himself for attention. I have a past of being in and out of mental hospitals due to depression, so when i say he was faking it all, he was faking.

he was choking himself for attention, and i know this because i tried to commit suicide by hanging before. when i tried to commit suicide for many days after i was coughing up blood, i had marks on my neck, and it was sometimes hard to breath and swallow.

He did not have any of these problems as it was not a real attempt, he was not trying to kill himself, he was faking for attention.

He's done other things for attention as well.

A very common pattern i see in his behavior is that any time i struggle with my *real, diagnosed* issues he will mirror me.

When i got overstimulated in a restaurant, he suddenly pretended to be upset and started hurting himself. When i talked to my mom about toe walking and how walking on my heels makes me feel like they're on fire, he quoted me exactly and started toe walking. another example is when i was talking about my migraines he told me that opiods would help with it. when i said no, that pain meds don't help almost always and that i also don't want hard drugs. he fired back at me and claimed that he always had really bad headaches and that he'd want to take opiods for it. he also claimed that his mother has migraines and that he got it from her.

i know for a fact that these things are untrue as he's had many psychological and physical evaluations, and as he is in my mother's custody i know what he has. when i first met him he would always have seizures. after my mom called him out on it and threatened him he stopped and no longer has seizures or "moments of psychosis".

He not only does this with mental illness but also identity.

when i was talking about being a otherkin, he suddenly identified as a therian and more theriotypes kept popping up every day. when i talked about questioning my gender suddenly he was nonbinary. when i talked about my sexual trauma suddenly he had sexual trauma. when i was having an allergic reaction suddenly he had allergic reactions, which, if you have real allergic reactions its pretty easy to tell when someone is faking them. there was no swelling, rash, throwing up, etc. not only this but also the story about his identity changes every time. he's also lied about being intersex and ethnically jewish. his family did a dna test on him, he is not from jewish descent.

on top of all of that, he will not admit things that he actually struggles with. he has drug, alchohol, and sex addictions. when confronted his history is always different. he says that he doesn't have those problems, and he gets agressive both physically and verbally.

another thing to mention is that i posted a video to this account a while ago when my blog was called "wolf-pup" of me wearing a tail, this video has since been deleted. if you check quinn's account you will see this tail, i will use this as proof of me personally knowing quinn.

TLDR; they are manipulative. abusive physically, sexually, and mentally. he in general just isn't a safe person to be around.