#i guess another way to put it is that she did it because she wanted to

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

i keep finding myself wondering.. why did she open the drawer where the gun case was hidden? i’ve seen people say it was a mercy to curly, so that maybe he could open it to use it for a quick and less painful way out, or defend himself if jim broke in.. but i can’t really believe that. she’s a nurse. she knows curly can’t even really move, let alone move with the coordination and dexterity required to open the gun case, get the gun out from it, and actually use it on anyone. plus, while jim obviously doesn’t have a lot of reservations about hurting curly, i think she knows he wouldn’t kill him, because if he would, why wouldn’t he have already done it? so i don’t think it’s for his potential self-defence.

could it be.. that she’s taunting him? here’s this case. we both already know that there’s a gun inside it. you can’t open the case. i can’t open the case. you can’t use it to defend yourself anymore. neither can i, because i never could. the same goes for hurting yourself, you can’t do that with it any more than i could, even though you’re in so much pain now that there’s no way it could hurt much more with the gun. you can’t even tell me how to unlock the case, even if you wanted me to have it now that you know so much more than you did before, back when i wished you’d have let me take it. of course, knowing you never would, i hid it. it’s been here the whole time, literally right under you, and you never knew. and, to top it off, i’m proving to you that i never would have used the gun on myself, because watch how easily i can do the same thing with tools that were directly entrusted to me, because of the nature of my job. and you’re going to watch, because.. what else can you do? you can’t even turn your head to look away.

but then, anya is so gentle, that seems like it might be out of character for her. and like, maybe the situation just got to her that bad that she’s acting this different, and i can’t really wrap my head around another possible reason, but i keep fixating on that. why did she open the drawer? like, maybe she was going to try and brute force her way into it, guessing codes at random until it opened, and she became impatient and took the pills? maybe, after taking the pills, she started to feel bad for curly since she locked him up in the room with her and she tried to open the case and give him one last act of mercy, but died before she could succeed? maybe she figured that jim would find his way in no matter what, and since her own safety was no longer at risk since she’d die anyway, she left it so he could go through with a mercy killing, trying to leave him with no option other than to step up to the plate and take responsibility as the new captain for putting curly out of his misery? maybe she thought that since swansea had the utility axe, he would be the one to break into medical and would be smart enough to brute force his way into the gun case, and take out this maniacal, incompetent tyrant of a self-imposed leader, saving daisuke and possibly himself, and putting curly out of his misery?

ultimately, we obviously can’t get a concrete answer from canon.. but does that mean i’ll stop wondering about it? no, it actually means i will never stop thinking about it.

i need everyone to understand the poetry of curly turning a blind eye to anya’s suffering only to be robbed of his autonomy and voice as she was and then forced to observe jimmy’s crimes and the abuse of his own body

[unforth]

I keep seeing posts comparing this to 2004 or other past election losses and how this feels the same or similar to those past times.

As another Old who voted in 2004 (and I missed voting in 2000 by a month and was furious about it) I really can't even put into words how vehemently I disagree.

In 2008, I remember very earnestly sitting down with some friends and saying that if somehow McCain beat Obama, I'd have to join the fucking revolution, because I couldn't believe that this country would elect a Republican AGAIN after the previous 8 years of bullshit. I look back now and think how incredibly naive I was, but I also look back now and think, damn, why aren't I 25 NOW? I can't join the revolution now, I'm 41 and I own a house and have two young children and one old parent depending on me.

Because honestly, truly, as someone who has been studying American history since I was 7, as a Civil War buff with expertise on the years before the Civil War, as someone who has at least some memories of every election since 1988... guys, this isn't the same as 2004. I was furious then. Swift Boat bullshit I swear to fucking dog. And I was and still am fairly convinced that the 2000 election was deliberately stolen. But also I still had every reason then to believe in the rule of law.

In 2004, I still believed term limits would be respected.

In 2004, I still believed a person who wasn't elected would demure gracefully to the winner.

In 2004, I still trusted the courts.

In 2004, I still believed that we'd made progress on bigotry.

I could go on, and to be clear, my point isn't "I thought these institutions were ~good~" in literally any objective sense. Y'all are cynical but my generation was raised by, surrounded by, Vietnam vets and trust me, there was no way to be a kid, seeing what the 70s did to this country, and not come out as cynical and furious as the best of um. (My grandfather was a World War 2 vet, as were his close friends. My father and both his brothers are Vietnam vets, tho my dad didn't go overseas.) But I did believe that even corrupt institutions, even broken racist systems, even fucking Republicans, would follow basic norms of democracy. They said they believed in the constitution and I believed them. I believed that, like Nixon, truly getting caught doing something insane would at least force a mea culpa and turn public opinion. I believed...

Well, I guess it doesn't matter.

Because I no longer believe any of that.

I have watched the guard rails disappear over my lifetime. I have watched the party who once spent 2 years pursuing a guy over a BJ in the oval office elect a convicted rapist. I have watched and at times I've participated and I've voted and I've organized and I've protested and I've read the news more days than not and I've lived and I've grown and I've learned.

I have been an adult, legally, for almost 24 years now.

Guys... there are no norms remaining on the far right. The guard rails are gone. The Fascists control the White House, the senate, the Supreme Court, and things aren't looking promising for the House.

The bus has no brakes anymore. They think they have a mandate - and I can't blame them, as horrifying as this mandate is, because if things had gone the other way and Harris had gotten these results I'd also think it was a mandate.

Please sit with what this means: Trump and the Republican party said, "hand us the reins and we'll make everyone you hate hurt," and more than half the people who bothered to vote said "sure buddy, here goes." We don't have a usurper this time. This is the country that the majority of Americans said they wanted. Whether they come to regret that or not, they saw open Fascism and went "oh yes, count me in." And it wasn't because of the electoral college this time. It was because this country is so bigoted and misogynistic that they'd rather have this than a woman of color in the office.

I'm sick of "well she didn't run a good campaign." (Lie.) I'm sick of, "well we didn't get a primary." (Who cares?) I'm *extremely* sick of "well, Palestine." (Yes! Democrats actions have made the suffering there so much worse! It fucking sucks! You know what's about to suck so much worse?)

15 million people who showed up for Joe Biden couldn't be fussed to place a vote for Kamala Harris. Whatever their reason for not voting, we all knew the outcome if she lost. And seeing open fascism didn't fire them up enough to make the effort, and that's fucking pathetic. The consequences of the worst happening mattered so little to them that they couldn't be fucking bothered to make the minimum effort to stop it, and now millions of people will suffer as a result.

Because here we are: the huge swathe of the country who wanted a strongman now have one.

Look, I don't know what happens next. But I do know, and remember keenly: after 2016, Trump did, or at least tried to do, most of the things he said he'd do. When he was stopped, it was often because of career government employees: judges, bureaucrats, etc. And this time, he's said he's going to purge those people. I don't know if he'll succeed, but I certainly believe he'll try.

This is not 2004 again.

This is 2024. The Republicans have ripped the mask to shreds, shredded apart the book of political norms, and empowered hate, and they've been handed a governmental mandate for stamped "have at with our blessing!" in exchange.

And now they'll use that mandate to make everyone they hate suffer: people of color, queer people, trans people, immigrants, non-Christians.

Don't assume the worst can't happen. I am a Jew, and I have a photo album full of black and white photos of dead people that constantly reminds me: the worst has happened and it can happen again.

Do not despair. Despair is enervating. Be furious. As we should be. These douche bags are repulsive. Be prepared to fight. Be prepared to flee. Be prepared to defend. Don't assume you simply can't do something. There's always something to do, and even the smallest act of defiance can help. There's never any knowing until after which acts of resistance will end up galvanizing the good and just out of their apathy. But that apathy is the enemy.

Because none of this is normal. None of this is "just like when..." Please stop saying it is.

And before anyone screams "privilege" at me, yes, I am in many ways. I'm white. I have access to some generational money even tho my own family lives paycheck to paycheck - we won't be rich but have enough of a support network to be comfortable. I live in a blue area of a blue state. But I'm also a woman (legally speaking, at least) married to another woman - since before Oberkfell, and yes I remember exactly what steps we had planned any time we wanted to leave our state. My wife has physical disabilities. We have two children. Both are biracial (half black). One is trans. We are caring for an elderly parent. I am Jewish and as my kids' birth parent, so are they. I own a publishing company that publishes the exact kinds of queer and kinky lit these people intend to ban. We tick so many boxes of what these people hate.

I know ya'll are scared. Trust me, I'm terrified. But fear is paralyzing. And that won't help. Whatever happens, don't lie down and take this shit.

When Gore lost I was one month shy of my 18th birthday and already in college. I have been fighting my entire adult life, and I'm exhausted. I'm much less able to fight now, much more tied down with responsibilities. But the fight isn't over. I'm checking our passports. I'm packing a go bag. I've convinced one vulnerable friend to move here and I have another who wants to and we're figuring out how to make that happen. I'm protecting who I can, starting with putting on my mask first. I don't know what will happen but if in the end all I can do is uproot my entire life to protect my children then I am preparing to do so. I can at least save them if no one else.

None of this is normal.

And I'm not sure, after Trump's in office, that anything will ever be normal again in the US. At least not the old normal. And there are ways that's a good thing, so many ways that the old normal sucked for so many people, and I'm optimistic that there's a bright future ahead, but man it looks far away right now. I don't want to go back to the old normal, and I want to be part of establishing a kinder, more just, more equal new normal, but we're a long way from there.

Whatever happens, we must endure. We must survive. We must support each other. We must find our allies and be prepared to compromise with them. Don't try to save everyone. You'll fail. Help even one person and you can change the world. Everyone things they can't do everything and so do nothing. That's insane. Do a single thing and it will be better than nothing. One phone call. One letter. One act of defiance. Very few people get the opportunity to grand gestures that matter, and the rest of us will die waiting for that moment. But the secret is that what makes those moments - the time when one person is in the right place at the right time for their action to matter - is built on millions of small moments by millions of people doing what little they can to make things slightly better. Think of every iconic photograph of a Sole Resistor you know of and think about every single tiny thing that had to happen for that moment to occur. Most of us will never me that one person, but that one person is a myth anyway. Countless tiny unseen moments create those myths. Doing literally anything is better than doing nothing.

And tooth and nail, quietly and loudly, in our homes and our towns and cities, during protests or when they come for our neighbors, we must fight.

[fenrysmoonbeamswife]

Okay okay okay I don't know if this will even make sense or just sound dramatic or like rambling so bare with me I guess

I keep seeing people saying "oh you don't think reading should be made political but you read books like ACOTAR and xyz?" and while I totally get the point and agree with it, let's just look at this particular example for a second because it's completely unsurprising.

Let's be real, the majority of the people who read ACOTAR praise the "inner circle". They see them as the good guys, the best of the best, "goals", whatever. It has gotten to the point that it's almost cult-like, I mean I've seen people who haven't even read the books already in love with the inner circle just because fans basically convince them to be.

Anyway, even just their name is already starting off bad, the inner circle? By actual definition an inner circle is a curated group who move in the same circle. AKA the elite few chosen out of complete bias by the leader (not for any particular care for their people or political savvy because we know they have none of that) just because they're "besties"

This particular inner circle consists of

1. A man who has committed sexual assault, abuse, war crimes, murder and more. Has quite literally segregated his own people and abandoned 2/3s of his court. Knows about and allows the unrelenting physical, mental and sexual abuse of the women and children he is responsible for. Locked up survivors of sexual abuse and uses them for free labour and pretended it was some sort of charity.

2. A man who obliterated a village because of his own rage. Committed physical and emotional abuse and sexual harassment. Takes some sort of pleasure out of seeing women in pain.

3. A literal torturer (granted he doesn't seem to actually enjoy his job but he still does it)

4. A woman who abandoned all of the other women who are abused the way she was even though she's quite literally in charge of the place. Who also said that a woman at her worst mentally after severe trauma should be punished by being put with her abusers.

5. And literally a 1000+ year old ex-inmate of the Prison. Baring in mind we don't know why she was in the Prison, she wasn't pardoned or anything similar she escaped so she is still a criminal as far as we know and she is the nastiest skank ass bitch ever so I can only assume she did something horrific based on everything she's ever said. Ever. (this is mostly a Mean Girls joke because Rhysand is literally a Regina George wannabe but also Amren is the nastiest skank ass bitch)

These are the same people who are pretty racist towards Illyrians, make borderline vicious animals out of Illyrian men and allow them to do as they please so that they have disposable pawns to fight their wars and have left the Illyrian women and children to be abused by them. The same people who have decided that the entirety of Hewn city are abusive, not that there could possibly be any other women or children in similar situations to Mor. The same people who, while they build their *checks notes* fifth mansion, tear down buildings for funsies because they can't abuse whoever they want to use their powers. The same people who got pissed off about someone *double checks notes* saving another world and their own.

I'm sorry (not) but the same people who support and adore and worship these characters are typically the ones who "don't want to bring politics into reading" and say things like "it's just fiction". It isn't just fiction. There is no such thing as just fiction.

Reading will always be political. And I'm using ACOTAR as an example because I'm seeing it used and found it ironic in a way but christ nearly every fantasy book if not literally every fantasy book out there has politics that can be directly correlated to our own. I mean I always say that if someone told me that different people wrote ACOTAR and Throne of Glass I would believe them but at the same time that's mostly a joke because of how drastically different they are. I found Throne of Glass so deep, so much more focused on the underdog, the seemingly smaller stories that add up the the bigger picture, the end result of everyone not just the select few (the inner circle). Don't get me wrong, there are problems with it but a lot of them are called out in the writing and you can see that for the most part it's the writing of a young dreamer. And then you have ACOTAR and it's just so privileged and biased and trying so hard to tell you that the elite are at some sort of disadvantage and like basically you could convince me it was written by a straight white man with 0 effort.

Moral of the story is, when someone like SJM uses Breonna Taylors death to hype up her own book, it's not just fiction. When SJM who very clearly self inserts into ACOTAR and puts her own beliefs that she's taken from the real world into these stories that she writes, it's not just fiction. When she takes real world examples of abuse and privilege and segregation and misogyny and whatever fucking else and puts them into her stories, it's not just fiction. When what you're reading directly correlates to or effects your own political beliefs, it's not just fiction. When what you're reading can be translated to the real world in a scarily realistic way, it's not just fiction. When we could wake up tomorrow and be in the exact same situations we read about, it's not just fiction. Fiction is fiction sure, but it will always be based on real life. There is only so much the imagination can do, it needs a base point and that is the real world. So it is never just fiction

[kennytheworkingclasshero]

Alongside Stan, we've also seen Kenny experience addiction issues. Most notably in the episode Major Boobage, where he spends the majority of the time favouring the escapism that cat pee offers him from his day to day life. Kenny is often spending his time taking care of his sister, dealing with his parents' own inebriation and their tendencies towards domestic abuse, as well as having to go through painful deaths over and over again. The relief and happiness he feels when he is able to go into another world, where he is experiencing the things that he loves (good looking women, obviously), is enough to make him do it again and again (despite how worried his friends are).

This is similar to Stan, as seen in Ass Burgers when he has to come to terms with his parents divorce, as well as developing depression and a sense of cynicism in the world. He takes to alcohol very easily in order to numb the pain and be able to make it through his day.

Kenny and Stan are both victims of addiction being passed down genetically; Kenny with his parents being addicts and Stan with his father and grandfather being addicts. However, I do think their reactions to addiction is very different, and it all comes down to the environment in which they were raised.

For Kenny, he grew up with two parents who were very clearly addicts. There was no hiding it, they were always drunk or high and their kids knew that. Kenny as Mysterion even asked them to stop getting high as frequently as they do, which is seen in the episode Mysterion Rises when Carol says they did what he asked and they "stopped gettin' high every night." Kenny has deep rooted trauma which stems from his parents addiction and what happens because of it, like neglect and domestic violence. That is why when Gerald is giving his speech at the end of Major Boobage and he says "Problem is, the more you go into that world, the more you need to go. Until you start blowing off all the real people who care about you." Kenny resonates with this, looking down guiltily and saying to himself "Yeah, I guess so."

Him and his siblings experience this everyday and that has real material effects on their lives. This is seen in The Poor Kid when the McCormick siblings are taken into foster care because of their parents neglect. Karen asks why her mom and dad went to jail and Kenny replies with sentiments that are similar to Geralds speech, of them "blowing off" the people that care for them in real life; "Sometimes, people do stupid things. Sometimes they don't realize what should have come first. Until it's too late."

He doesn't want to become like his parents, he wants to put his family (and more specifically, his little sister) first. Because she's all he's got, because he has taken on the role of her caregiver due to his parents struggle with addiction. If he gives into his own 'needs', who will be there for her? That is why he restrains himself and that is why the way he has been brought up, despite being surrounded by addicts from a young age, has made him want to distance himself from substances.

This is not to say that Stan's upbringing didn't have an effect on his addiction, but the Marshes are able to put on the front of a more put together family due to their economic status, in a way the McCormick's simply cannot. They are middle class, Randy has a good job, they live on the 'good' side of town. Randy is a terrible father and an idiot, who doesn't put much effort into his family members lives, but he is a functioning alcoholic. It is easier to hide and therefore, Stan's trauma is not as clearly linked to substances and addiction as Kenny's is. Stan also does not hold much responsibility for other family members in the way that Kenny does and because of this, it is easier for him to fall into his addiction in the way Kenny isn't. Stan isn't even particularly introduced to alcohol by his father, but rather a group of cynics.

However, this does not absolve Randy from his responsibility for his son's addiction or trauma. It still stems from Randy, but it also functions differently from Kenny's.

[whyamimherehelp]

Saw someone on tiktok say that Carmen basically became Chef David with Sydney and it pissed me off so bad.

Did Carmen shut her out creatively? yes. Is he being an asshole? yes. Did he disregard their partnership? yes. But not because he has turned into Chef David, no. It comes from his loneliness really. Carmen never really had friends, never really had a relationship (well, I guess Claire but that is not a good representation for a healthy relationship, he was shutting his real feelings out and trying to become a different person) and has never worked in a partnership before because he has always, since the beginning, done things on his own, and even when there are ppl around him, he shuts them out because he feels unworthy of love (because of his mother and father but that's a whole different conversation) so when he tries to have a partnership with Sydney, which he wants, he does it the only way he knows how, alone. To get her what he thinks she wants. He's a giver, that's how he shows love.

Sydney, for her part, needs to speak up. She needs to tell him how she feels and tell him what she really wants, a true, healthy partnership with him. One of the reasons that I think she's so avoidant is because of her mom dying. She probably has tried to ignore that pain all her life, maybe tried to keep up a good mood for her dad. So she's probably been avoiding problems since she was a child. It's her way.

CARMEN IS NOT DAVID FIELDS. He is not verbally abusing her, yes he yells but he is not telling her she is worth nothing, should kill herself, etc. He is lashing out but he is not Chef David because though he's acting like a dick, underneath it all he is good, he just hasn't reached that part of himself yet because he is buried underneath all his trauma.

Another thing, Carmen and Sydney are the center of this show. Whether you ship them or not, you have to admit that. Everyone else, Richie, Nat, Marcus, Tina, etc. are the heartbeat but Syd and Carmy are the lifeblood. They are the shows foundation. Since their relationship was rocky and strained in season 3, that's why ppl pulled away and didn't like it so much. It lacked its life force.

In conclusion, I will defend Carmen Berzatto forever because he is an excellent REAL representation of victims of childhood trauma (if you can't take that go to sesame street to learn about the basics of feelings or something) and my girl Sydney is also an excellent representation of someone who wants more but feels like they cannot do what it takes to get it. PUT SOME RESPECT ON THEIR NAMES. They're some of the greatest tv characters we've gotten in a while. I will defend them and their ship forever.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 32

Warnings: vampire carewhumper, recovery whump, intimidation, defiant stubborn whumpee

"All right, I'll take care of this mess later," Alex stated. "I'll let you rest longer. I did speak to Anisa, and... you were right about what she meant by humans 'staying busy'. She meant hobbies. So... Sorry for doubting you, I guess."

Mallory blinked numbly, not quite processing that his captor was apologizing to him. He wasn't sure how to react. But he wasn't given time to dwell on it, as Alex gave his arm a firm tug.

"Just leave the mop there," he ordered, "I'll escort you back to the bedroom." Another mild surprise.

"I'm not going back to the basement?" Mallory questioned, frowning.

"Why would I put you back there?" Alex scoffed. "Anisa had a point about it being too cold down there for humans."

Mallory averted his eyes when he answered. "I just... sort of assumed that once I was no longer on the brink of death you'd lock me in the basement again once I could survive it. As punishment."

Alex laughed. "Pretty sure you've more than paid the price by now for your escape attempt. I'm not petty enough to hold the grudge for long. I think you've suffered enough for my original point to get across."

Mallory's frown deepened. "And what point is that?"

Alex's eyes darted over to look straight at him, voice flat and deadpan as he answered. "That there is no way out of this situation for you, because you are mine to keep and mine to feed off and mine to do whatever I want to. You are powerless here, hunter, and I hope this recent lesson taught you that. That you should accept your position and stop fighting me every step of the way.”

And just like that, the last strands of Mallory's hope shattered into a million pieces. He'd known it all along, but had denied it so hard. To hear Alex say it out loud, what his darkest fear was -- it hurt more than the agony jarring him with every step.

He was a vampire hunter, but the tables had turned, and he was no longer in control. The mere notion was terrifying to think about.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings

[catierambles]

Witch Hunt Ch. 5

Cait woke to knocking on her room door, turning over to check her phone blearily. Who the hell was knocking at her door at 3 in the morning? Getting out of bed as the knocking became more insistent, she looked through the peephole, pausing for a moment when she saw Walter standing out there. She had given him the name of the hotel she was staying at along with the room number in case there was an emergency, but why was he here now? Why didn't he call first?

Opening the door, she gave him a curious look. He looked like he had just gotten out of bed himself, throwing shoes and leaving. A nearly threadbare T-shirt clung to his chest, grey sweats that had definitely seen better days hanging on his hips.

“Walter?”

“Can I come in?” He asked and she nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It's okay.” She said, turning on a lamp, “I'm guessing this isn't work related.”

“Not in the way you mean.” He said and sat down heavily on the end of the bed. “How do you do it?”

“Do...what?”

“Forget their faces.” He said, “I've seen a lot of fucked up shit since becoming a cop, but these victims...I--” He stopped with a sigh. “I can see them when I close my eyes. How do you get through it?”

“By catching the monster responsible, and believing they're at peace because of it.” She said, sitting next to him and he nodded.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asked, looking at her hopefully. “I’m not looking forward to going back to an empty house.”

“Of course, you can. I think the couch folds out into—” She was cut off as he kissed her suddenly, holding the back of her head with his fingers in her hair. Gods, his lips were as soft as she thought they’d be. “Walter.” He pulled her into another kiss, more insistent this time, but she pushed him away gently. “You don’t want this.”

“Yes, I do.” He said, nodding, and tried to kiss her again, but she leaned back.

“You’re being haunted by the dead right now, Walter, it’s only natural that you feel compelled to do something to make you feel alive.” She said and he sighed, his hand going to the back of her neck. He breathed for a moment, his eyes closed, before he nodded. “You want human contact, so I won’t kick you to the couch, but don’t try to do anything you’ll regret in the morning.” He just nodded again and released her, kicking off his shoes as she got up to turn off the lamp. They got settled in, Walter laying with his back to her and it wasn’t long before she heard his breathing deepen and even out, letting her know he was asleep. Cait stared at his shoulders for a bit before turning over, keeping her back to him as she closed her eyes, drifting back off to sleep.

Cait woke gently to a heartbeat in her ear, strong arms holding her to a warm chest. Opening her eyes she saw that Walter must have pulled her towards him during the night, as she was laying half on his chest with his arms around her. She could feel the musculature of his chest and arms, the layer of hair covering his skin through the t-shirt. His breath ruffled her hair slightly, letting her know he was still asleep and she sighed, closing her eyes again to just enjoy the moment while it lasted.

His arms tightened briefly and her eyes opened again as she heard him take in a deep breath, his chest inflating.

“Good morning.” He exhaled, the timbre of his sleepy voice making his chest shake.

“Good morning.” She said and looked up at him, settling her chin on his chest. His eyes were still closed, but his brow knitted briefly.

“I came onto you last night.”

“You did.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She said, “If I had been offended, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Thanks for...you know.”

“Not taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state?” She said, “Don’t mention it.”

“What time is it?” He asked and she moved, his arms falling away as she grabbed her phone.

“We got about two hours of sleep.”

“So still early.”

“Very.” She said, putting her phone back on the nightstand.

“Cait?” He asked and she looked at him, seeing him staring at her through the gloom. “Come here?” She hesitated for a moment before going back to his side, letting him pull her in until she was on his chest again. His hands pressed against her back and she didn’t quite know where to put her hands so she settled on laying one against his waist, as the other was pinned between them. Damn he smelled good, her face tucked into his neck. She could feel his pulse thrumming under his skin, his hand moving back and forth over her arm. She looked up as he pulled away slightly, seeing him staring down at her, the look in his eyes making her cheeks heat slightly.

His hand came up to cradle the back of her neck and with a tug, he kissed her, his eyes closing. It didn’t feel like it did last night, with him trying to build a fire by using gasoline. This was gentle, unrushed and unhurried, and she found herself responding to him, her fingers curling into his waist. His breath was heavy when he pulled away, taking a moment before kissing her again, his lips parting hers and, as if testing the waters, his tongue touching hers briefly. The sound she made came from deep in her chest and her hand came up to weave in his curls, finding they were as soft as she wondered.

“Fuck.” He whispered, a growl to his voice. “You’re so beautiful. Can I have you?”

“Yes.” She said with a nod and he kissed her again, rolling them over so she was on her back and he was pressing her into the mattress, ducking under her chin to mouth along her throat.

He took his time with her, his lips moving over her skin as more was revealed. His large hands felt almost scorching on her skin as he mapped her with his palms, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently before pulling them down her sides. Hooking his fingers in her shorts, he pulled them down and off along with her small clothes, kneeling over her nude beneath him. She could see how his exploration of her was affecting him, his sweatpants tenting slightly. Moving over her, he kissed her, pushing his tongue past her lips to slide against hers and she shuddered, the sound she made swallowed by him, as he eased a hand between her legs, exploring her with his fingers.

Cait broke the kiss, swallowing heavily as her fingers curled around his biceps, her eyes closed, feeling as he pressed his forehead against hers even as he eased two fingers inside her, pumping them slowly. He pulled her into another kiss, her legs falling open for him, giving him easier access. She felt as he moved down, opening her eyes to see him drag his shirt over his head as he settled between her legs, holding her thighs solidly in his arms. With a quick look to her, he buried his mouth in her center, his hands wrapping around her hips to keep his mouth tightly sealed against her, his tongue moving through her and flicking against her clit.

Sounds left her lips as he pushed her higher and higher and his grip tightened, keeping her still as she tried to move away, the sensations starting to become too much. He started rocking her hips against his face, his eyes closed as he hummed against her and it pushed her over the edge, her fingers in his hair as she released against his mouth.

He licked her clean, make sure to get every bit of her before kneeling above her again and she could see how his beard glittered slightly in the light emanating cheap alarm clock on the night stand. Walter pushed down his sweatpants and she gave him a slow sweep of her eyes as he bobbed free. He moved into her embrace as she reached for him, settling into the cradle of her hips and he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue as he reached between them.

He swallowed the whimper she gave out as he started pushing into her and she broke the kiss, her head falling back against the pillows as he stretched her open almost to the point of pain. Her inner muscles clung around his thick length and, with some adjusting, he hilted himself inside her, his breath hot and heavy against her neck. With his fingers wrapped around one of her thighs, pulling her leg around his waist, he started to move, rocking into her in an ever increasing tempo until the bed started making sounds in protest and she clung to him, moving her hips in time with his, almost as if she were riding him even though she was under him.

“Fucking perfect.” He groaned into her skin and her eyes rolled back at the feeling of him sliding inside her. “Ah, fuck, you're fucking perfect.”

“Walter.” She panted, pulling his face out of her neck so she could kiss him, making small sounds against his lips with every push of his hips.

“Come for me, my perfect girl. My perfect girl. Just mine. All mine.”

“Yes, all yours.” She said, nodding, “Don't stop. Please. Don't stop.” His teeth brushed over her shoulder before biting down as if to keep her in place as he claimed her. It felt almost...primal with him, animalistic, and it pushed her over the edge again, crying out as her hips lifted off the bed, pressing tight against his, taking him fully as she pulsed and quivered around him. His movements became almost savage, grunting and growling against her neck until he pushed inside her fully with a snarled expletive and she felt him twitch inside her, warmth settling in her lower stomach.

She could feel his frantically beating heart against her chest and she held onto him, running her fingers through the sweat damp curls at the base of his neck,

“Are you all right?” He asked after a moment in a low voice, breathing heavily. “I was a bit...intense there towards the end.”

“I’m fine.” She said, nodding. “I’m perfect.”

“Yes, you are.” He said, picking his head up to kiss her, “Can I keep you?” Any sarcastic remark she might have made died in her throat at the look in his eyes. It looked like...hope.

“I’m yours.” Cait said and pulled him into a kiss.

[theradicalace]

i just think it's so funny that when *i* lash out and start bitching *about* management to my coworkers because of a stressful day at work, i get pulled into the office to discuss my attitude, but when a manager lashes out and bitches *at me* because of a stressful work day, i get a halfassed "oh sorry, but-" and i'm expected to roll over and take it.

[statusquoergo]

more! original! fiction! (i did warn you guys.)

~*~

Out of nowhere, the air begins to smell like lit birthday candles. What if something accidentally caught on fire, what would happen then? People would run away, probably. Maybe there would be a panic. Someone might call 911.

The smell goes away after a couple of minutes. Someone's whistling; not “Happy Birthday,” it's some tune she doesn't know. It doesn't sound like something they're making up on the spot, though; maybe it's their favorite song, that person, one they listen to all the time. Maybe they don't like it too much but it's the only one they can whistle okay. Maybe they'd rather be singing, but there are too many people around and they don't want that kind of attention, or maybe they have a really awful voice and a terrible memory for lyrics.

Dea rolls over onto her stomach and sets her chin down on the back of her folded hands. Whatever, it doesn't matter.

Well. It probably does to them.

***

“I didn't want to come here.”

“Yes, I know.”

“My parents made me.”

“Did they?”

“My mom made me.”

“Oh?”

“My dad said he doesn't care.”

“How did it make you feel when he said that?”

“He said it doesn't matter if I come here or not.”

“Did that make you angry?”

“He said the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is one, but I won't admit that there's something wrong with me, so I won't get any better no matter what, and it's fine if I don't want to come here anymore because then he can stop paying for something that isn't making a damn bit of difference.”

“Did that make you upset?”

“He didn't say 'admit,' he said I won't 'acknowledge that I have a problem.'”

“Is that an important distinction?”

“I think he probably meant to say 'admit,' I think it's supposed to be 'the first step is admitting you have a problem.' I think it's one of the twelve steps they make you do in Alcoholics Anonymous.”

“Elise?”

“I've never been there, but I saw them on a poster downstairs. The twelve steps. In a list.”

“Last week, you said your mom was upset that you didn't have a lot of friends, do you remember that?”

“Yeah. But she gets upset about everything.”

“Do you think you don't have a lot of friends?”

“I used to have one, but she moved away.”

“Oh? Do you still keep in touch?”

“I was really glad she was going to be in my class, because she's the only girl in my year who wasn't mean to me all the time, but then on the first day of school, I went to my classroom and her name was on the attendance list, but I asked Mister Pruitt where she was and he said she moved away during the summer. But her name was still on the list because they just found out right before the new school year started.”

“Have you spoken to her since then?”

“So, no, we don't keep in touch.”

“How did you feel about that, when you got to school and found out she wasn't there?”

“It was the first day of sixth grade.”

“It sounds like you remember it very well.”

“Yeah, well, it was a traumatic experience.”

“Did you speak to your parents about it?”

“It wasn't really traumatic. I was just eleven.”

“What did your parents say when they found out?”

“I think her name was Stephanie.”

“You think?”

“I wanted to cancel today.”

“I know.”

“My mom made me come.”

“Did she?”

“My dad doesn't care if I come or not.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“...”

“Sarah?”

“...”

“Sarah, is William here yet for his three o’clock?”

[gamebunny-advance]

Hm.

First impressions from the responses so far has been that the top choice is DJSS, which also lines up with the last time I asked y'all about keychains, where he also came in first.

I guess the DJ is just the kinda guy that demands your money~

[exopelagic]

I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to helf Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[sttoru]

Omg could we see reader getting jealous of Sukuna having sec with his other concubines? And maybe liek the other concubine rubs it in readers face?

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (no comfort), suggestive \\ smut aspects. size difference. one tiny mention of reader being a crybaby. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’ \\ kuna’s an asshole! not proofread, excuse the grammar. no part 2. wc: 3.3k

you’ve been away from the estate for three days; three days too long for the king of curses. so much had happened while you were away to take some well deserved rest—a small vacation that sukuna had granted you because you needed it.

perhaps that was his first mistake. giving you permission to leave his side ended up being a bad decision. he hates that faint feeling in his chest, the feeling of missing something.

missing someone.

it couldn’t be. sukuna doesn’t have any weaknesses, and yet he can feel his body reacting to that unfamiliar emotion again. all because of you— that one human who always succeeds to occupy his mind.

he couldn’t let himself succumb to it—he’s not going to. sukuna is not going to let a mere human like you deter him from his superior identity that he’s had for decennia. he’s not going to let you have that power over him and his body.

and thus, when you return to the estate, you find yourself being laughed at. you were unpacking your luggage when two concubines stand at your doorway, hiding their evil smiles behind their handheld fans.

they don’t waste a single second and immediately rush to ruin your carefree mood.

“you know, you shouldn’t have returned at all,” the brunette giggles, her laugh sounding like nails scraping against a chalkboard. she looks to the other woman next to her before glancing back at you, “i mean—heh—lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence.”

you figure it’s just another way to get you riled up, so you do your best to ignore them. you put your packed kimonos in your wardrobe as your back faces the two.

yumi, the second concubine, nods along. she knows what she’s about to reveal will get on your nerves. and deserved, if you ask her. they had successfully caught the attention of their king while you were away. for the first time in a good while since your arrival in the estate.

the fact that they managed to spend quality time with sukuna again, is a wonderful first step to your downfall. one that will surely crumble your confidence as his so-called ‘favorite’.

“mhm,” yumi grins as she recalls the memories of her time with sukuna. time spent together that you were unaware of, “lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence when he had me in his bed last night.”

you freeze.

your brows furrow and the corners of your lips twitch. you don’t know if you should believe them—they could’ve lied about it for all you know. although, the voice in the back of your head had already rang the alarms.

guessing by the way they were dying to talk to you the second you came back - which never happens - you realise that they’re probably telling the truth. they’re only telling the truth to agitate you. it’s so painfully obvious, and yet so. . . hurtful.

“what?”

you don’t recall when you’ve choked up. you feel a lump in your throat. it shouldn’t even be there. you promised yourself to not get attached to a monster like sukuna.

so what if he went to bed with his other concubines?

but of course he’ll get pleasure from his other women when you aren’t around. he doesn’t feel any love, he sees it as worthless, so why did you expect him to not indulge himself? he still has his other concubines around for a reason.

you really shouldn’t be surprised by this revelation.

“what do you mean ‘what?’ - you heard me,” yumi shrugs, that cocky smirk still on her face. she’s clearly enjoying your reaction to everything she’s revealing. all the two concubines wanted to get out of this encounter with you, is to break that delusion of yours.

the delusional thought that you’re special to the king of curses—the delusion that sukuna considers you as something more than a toy to emotionally manipulate and play with until he’s tired of you.

“my lord spent all night with me in his chambers until the sun rose,” yumi continues without an ounce of shame. she bites her lip as she remembers the way sukuna had her body positioned on his large bed. for her, it was a dream come true.

though for you, it’s a living nightmare. even if you try to deny the fact that it physically and mentally hurts. there’s a painful twist at your heart—reminding you of the truth.

the truth being that you had truly thought that sukuna wasn’t really a monster of a man. you thought he was a different, more softer person around you.

you should’ve listened to the servants when they told you to not get tricked by sukuna’s special treatment, that he could easily manipulate you and make you do and act as he pleases.

“do you want me to explain it in detail?” yumi crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at you with a menacing glare. both of the concubines are loving that face you’re making. that face of defeat that you’re attempting to hide from them, “how he held me and pleasured me until i—”

“enough,” you cut them off with your hands clenched into fists. you don’t want to hear another word. you’re already feeling awful; already, not even an hour into your return. you can never catch a break.

you have an urge to throw things around. you already feel stupid, and if you decide to throw a fit, you bet that you’d feel even dumber. you truly do not know why you’re getting this worked up about it.

maybe it’s because of the special treatment. the delusional thoughts you have about your relationship with sukuna. you really thought that you two had something special. an unofficial romantic relationship, perhaps, or something that resembles it.

a secret, unspoken deal where you’re promised his loyalty in exchange for your body and soul.

although, those dreams have been shattered this very instance. you’re once again reminded of the animalistic nature of the being called ryomen sukuna.

he told you clearly that he’d never tie himself to someone, a human no less. devotion to one person? why would he.

“out of the way.”

you push the brunette and her sidekick the other way. you’re going to confront the man yourself. or at least, you’ll try to. you can hear their sick laughs and chuckles fade into the background as you stomp your way towards sukuna’s chambers.

the other concubines seem to have gotten the gist. some peek their heads out of their rooms, grinning at you in victory. seeing your confidence slowly crumble and the realisation kick in - the realisation that your dear lord’s special treatment means absolutely nothing - is a sight for sore eyes to them.

you enter sukuna’s room and close the heavy doors behind you. you swallow the lump down your throat and try your best to look presentable.

no tears, you promise yourself. you’re not going to waste them on something like this.

“oh, it’s you, little one,” the familiar voice calls out. sukuna’s low and husky voice rings from his bed. he’s laid back against the many silky pillows, blowing smoke from his kiseru. he lays there like he doesn’t care about your reappearance at all.

he eyes you up and down, “how was your vacation, hm?”

sukuna asks like it’s the most normal thing to do. it seems like he’s trying to catch up with you, to ask you how you’ve been enjoying your time alone, though it also seems like he couldn’t care less at the same time.

“just absolutely fine, my lord,” you reply with gritted teeth and an obvious hint of sarcasm. there’s also a bitterness to your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by the pink-haired man. he frowns—this cold greeting is not what he expected nor what he wanted to hear from your mouth. he expected you to at least smile at him like you usually do, but you didn’t.

on top of that, you seemed to be annoyed with him. that unexpected attitude of yours made something inside of him snap. it irritated him somehow; the fact that you’re so comfortable talking to him like that . . . it reminded him of the recent inner conflict he had which you were the cause of.

one of his hands tightens into a fist at his side. his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow into slits. you’re physically in front of him, which means that he’s also about to experience those complicated feelings again. the same ones he tried fleeing from by letting you go on a break, and by physically taking his mind off you.

he did the latter by taking his frustrations out on his other women. the stress that came with the thought of him possibly liking a human, relieved by pure animalistic sex.

that’s exactly what you’re upset about.

there’s an urge inside of sukuna to act normal. to ignore those difficult emotions and just treat you like he usually does. yet, another part of him is trying to protect his sense of superiority by trying to push you away.

there’s a war going on in his mind as he tries to calm himself down. you’ve always had this effect on him and it’s becoming unbearable. he has to show you, no - remind you, that you’re nothing to him. you mean nothing—nothing at all.

he’s the king of curses, you’re but a human. he’ll need to remind himself of that obvious statement as well. he’s got all the power in this situation. not you.

you cannot rule over him or his mind.

“you dare come back with an attitude? tch,” sukuna scoffs, nearly breaking the kiseru with his fingers as they squeeze around the solid material. he’s turning off whatever emotion present in his body. that doesn’t belong there anyway. he won’t care if you cry—he won’t care at all.

you notice the sudden change in sukuna’s tone as well. you’re sure you’re the reason for it. perhaps you crossed a boundary with how sassily you replied to him when he was simply asking you how your vacation went.

“my apologies,” you murmur with a sigh. you try to avoid getting on sukuna’s nerves any further, yet when you remember the words from the concubine, how she implied that sukuna had given her the best night of her life when you were away, you get mad again.

your eyes have a fiery look in them. you don’t want to get worked up. you don’t have the right to. you were warned from the very beginning to not get attached to an asshole like ryomen sukuna.

you’re to blame for feeling like this. it could’ve been prevented if you just weren’t so weak. if you just stayed away from him.

“did you have fun while i was away, my lord?” you continue, your voice shaking a little. you need the confirmation. you’re sure sukuna knows what you’re referring to by now, especially because of the way you’re acting out of character.

the king of curses raises a brow at your question. you sound even angrier, even more pissed off. he tilts his head after taking a deep inhale of the tobacco from his kiseru. he tries to figure out what you’re hinting at, “what are you—”

and that’s when everything fell into place. the dots connect.

sukuna’s jaw clenches. he realises that you’ve found out about him receiving services from his other concubines while you were away. there could be no other explanation behind your sudden attitude. besides, he knows how his other concubines could be. they must have told you the moment you came back.

normally, he’d say that it’s none of your business. what he does is up to him—he does not care about the consequences of his actions. though, seeing the slight hurt in your eyes, mixed with sadness and disappointment stirred something inside of him. he brushes that feeling away and stares at you intently, awaiting another comment. perhaps you’d cuss him out or bawl your eyes out in front of him.

either way, he promises himself that he won’t care.

sukuna is the king of curses. feeling bad for a human like you would only further tarnish his image, that image of superiority and power he has.

he’s a man of many needs. you should’ve kept that in mind when you left him. he wanted to keep you with him—to hold you down and refuse to let you leave—but that would be another sign of weakness. one sukuna could not manage to show.

when you departed, he was irritated by the fact that he had no one to turn to with his needs. from simple needs like wanting your company to sexual needs like craving your body.

keeping you by his side or letting you go; both decisions seem to clash. either way, there’s one thing he’s sure of, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it: he missed you.

sukuna can’t believe that he can feel an emotion like that. he can’t accept that fact. that’s why his irrational mind took over—his dark urges that strived to prove himself to still be the same old ryomen sukuna. the monster that did not need a single soul. the ruthless man that did not depend on anyone else, especially not a human. a woman like you.

he thought he’d forget all about you if he’s surrounded himself with other women. but, he was quick to be proven wrong, and that only caused to enrage him more and more.

every time sukuna fucked a concubine, his thoughts still manage to drift away to you. to how he wished that it was you he was holding.

nothing hit the same with the other women and that frustrated him. he’d keep them around in his room after he fucked their brains out, something he never allowed a woman to do except for you, yet kicked them out again after a few minutes.

it doesn’t hit the same.

you’re just different. your presence is soothing and calming to the chaotic soul of the pink-haired man. no one else could compare. that realisation made him feel inferior; a feeling he loathes.

sukuna’s red eyes glow. he hates seeing you look so defeated, but he cannot give in. if he tells you the truth, he’ll admit his weakness. he’ll admit that a human like you has completely taken over his brain. that’s no good.

if he doesn’t tell you the truth, he’ll save face. he’ll feel like himself again. his old self—the cold ruthless monster that he was before he met you. one without a soft spot for a human.

it’s an active dilemma that’s running through his mind as he slowly blows out another cloud of smoke. you cannot guess what’s going on behind those intimidating eyes staring you down.

sukuna tilts his head back and scratches his neck, smacking his lips as he makes his decision.

“yeah, i did. i had lots of fun.”

the words sting. they hurt you and make your heart ache in a way that makes you physically weak. you should’ve expected that answer. your shoulders tense up and your fingers curl around the material of your kimono—feeling a sense of anger and betrayal.

you can see a ghost of a smirk on sukuna’s lips, which only reminds you of his nature. his nature as an independent, aloof and cold man who likes to play with his prey. a natural disaster that knows no emotion, that shows no mercy to anyone.

you’re naive for thinking that you could be the exception. all of those times with sukuna were confirmed to be but a lie in that moment. as your gazes meet, you can now easily interpret what that look in those red eyes meant.

‘know your place,’

that’s what it means. you’re foolish, dumb. you take a deep breath to compose yourself after you’ve been made out to be a total fool. you should’ve listened to those warnings, you should’ve known that you were getting played.

this is exactly what sukuna desired to achieve. to build up your trust, to make you comfortable enough with him, to think you’re special and that he won’t need any other woman other than you — just to shatter your pathetic delusions when the time comes.

“tsk tsk. no need to look at me like that,” sukuna scoffs, a mocking laugh leaving his lips. he can hear a small voice in the back of his head telling him to shut up and let you go, to not make it worse, but who is he to listen to that irrelevant thought? he can decide for himself.

“y’ weren’t around, so the other concubines simply did their job by serving me,” he stares the other way, seemingly not interested by your presence anymore. his face is as expressionless as ever, “what do y’ think i keep them ‘round for, brat? for decoration purposes? hah, nah.”

another loud mocking laugh makes you nearly burst out in tears. you don’t know if it’s in anger or sadness. you take a deep, shaky breath for the last time. you unclench your fists and nod, accepting the reality check you’d just gotten.

it’s a slap to the face, but it helped you get out of your delusions. the delusions that sukuna is a man capable of loving someone, even if it is just for a tiny bit. this visit confirmed that there’s not an ounce of love or appreciation in that man’s body.

“i’m glad you had fun, my lord,” you answer after a bit of silence. you bow at sukuna in an attempt to stay polite while struggling with that inner turmoil. you don’t even glance up at him anymore. you need another break already.

sukuna isn’t dumb. you may think that you’re good at hiding your emotions, but you’re not. at least not around the king of curses. he’s spent enough time around you to realise that you’re going through a lot right now.

he’s the reason for it, yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of empathy. he just looks at you with a blank stare, thinking that this is for the best.

“good night then,” you add and turn around to walk out of sukuna’s room. your steps are slow as you secretly hope to be called back, like sukuna would do every time you’d leave his room after an intimate night. you just want him to tell you that this was a test of some sort—a cruel joke.

you want to feel like his favorite again. you don’t want to be thrown away like this. you don’t want to be on the same level as all the other concubines. you want to stand out to him.

unfortunately, you don’t hear sukuna’s voice anymore. he lets you walk away without a care in the world. the heavy doors of his chambers close behind you and you feel your knees buckle. “fuck,” you cuss to yourself and clench your chest.

you lean back against the closed doors and try to regain your composure. crying can be done when you’re in your room—not in the hallway where anyone could catch you. you don’t want to give the other concubines more reason to bully you.

you drag your feet across the wooden flooring. all those times with sukuna, all those slight glimpses of his soft side that only you’re allowed to see— all of that is thrown into the trash.

you really shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him on an emotional level.

meanwhile, sukuna is silently sitting on his bed, thinking back to what just happened. he usually never doubts his decisions, but this is an exception. why couldn’t he just tell you the truth?

his mouth had moved before he could let his mind process all that he was feeling. a small part of him regrets it, though strangely, he couldn’t feel any real sympathy for your situation.

sukuna drapes an arm over his eyes, clicking his tongue at himself. he just wants to let the situation go, though his brain isn’t letting him to. the image of you standing at the edge of his bed, clearly hurt by his actions, flashes through his mind again.

he sighs. he’s sure that he’s going to forget about you soon enough. he needed an excuse to get rid of you for the sake of regaining control over his own being and he took the chance. he should be glad that he did—it meant that he’d be his usual self—with no weaknesses to look out for.

sukuna blows out another cloud of smoke through his mouth. as much as he’s proud of himself for not giving in to you, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander again. you’re probably crying in your room. he knows you’re sensitive. you would always cry about the smallest of things and he’d hold you (feigning reluctance) until you’ve calmed down.

he can’t do that now.

well, he can, but he won’t. sukuna has made his decision today: it’s power and status over you. that’s what it’s always been. you were but a toy he used to get a stronger grip on himself.

perhaps he simply is what people make him out to be; a monster. nothing more, nothing less.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[eternity-death]

Penacony Reactions to you spanking them

No TW’s I think. Just sillies being silly. Established relationship with Reader in all these hc’s.

—————

Hanabi

Head snaps 180° at you and you scream.

She’s traumatized you and now you will never do it again.

This doesn’t stop her from getting you back, though. And she’ll do it in public to make it worse. It’s not a one-and-done deal either, it becomes a regular thing.

You’ve just sentenced yourself to a life of sore-booty and humiliation. Was it really worth it?

Black Swan

Stares at you.

Her expression is a little hard to read and the longer she looks at you the more you feel implored to apologize.

She’s not mad though, she’s actually rather amused. And she’s getting even more entertainment by watching you squirm.

Eventually she gives and just chuckles. If you’ll allow her, then she’ll give you a nice tap on the butt too.

Sampo

He does that one goofy (Mickey mouse) scream.

Very animated reaction. Jumps 10 feet off the ground and covers his behind. He looks back at you like a kicked puppy but you know it’s all fake.

Sniffles and says smthn like, “How could you do this to your best bud, Sampo?”

Gets you back when you least expect it. Like you actually scream bloody murder because your guard is down and you can’t hear him sneak up on you bc he’s light on his feet. It doesn’t matter if you’re in public either. Be very afraid.

Aventurine

“Woah! Getting a little frisky, eh?”

If you’ve got something separating you two like a chair or a counter, he will chase you around it to reach you. Spanks you back, harder, with zero hesitation.

He starts tapping your butt as a regular thing afterwards. Almost like a greeting.

“Hey babe.” Then a light slap. When he feels extra mischievous he’ll grab it.

Acheron

You are unable to slap her booty because she catches your hand before it makes contact.

Just kind of looks at you and goes, “What are you doing.”

You explain to her that spanking is a sort of gesture between close companions. She doesn’t quite get it but decides to just go with it.

Later on, when she greets you, she strikes her hand down on your behind so hard that your teeth clatter. She asks if she did it right with such a hopeful tone, that you can’t find it in yourself to tell her that shattering someone’s pelvis is not part of the gesture. (When she does find out that she’s hurt you she apologizes deeply and coddles you)

Dr. Ratio

Lets out a high pitched yelp.

Gives you the most scandalized look and defensively rubs his tush.

“Did you really just do what I think you did?”

Strategizes a way to get you back. He has a blackboard with physics equations for the perfect angle and fall of his hand, pinned papers and calendars with your schedule and his, etc. He’s terrible at hiding his intentions too. When the time comes for his revenge you already anticipate it. What you didn’t anticipate was how strong he was. You guess those biceps aren’t just for show.

Firefly

Why would you ever? What kind of monster are you?

She yelps and just stares at you; hands covering her behind, face flushed, and her mouth agape.

Apologize.

Sam

You have a death wish.

Another one who catches your hand before you can spank. He just puts your hand back in your lap and goes, “No.”

He actually just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. His… butt… isn’t very soft, you see.

If you want him to, he’ll lightly tap yours back.

March 7nth

Gasps and launches herself at you with full intention of getting you back.

It turns into a chase, where you run in circles around the gazebo until she gets too tired and gives up.

You laugh about it but later forget. Little do you know, March has been scheming ever since.

“AHA!” You feel a harsh slap against your behind and yelp. The vendor you were talking to looks at you and your girlfriend as if you’ve both grown an extra head. She laughs victoriously, “See? I told you payback was coming!”

Robin

“Oh!!!” Gasps and covers herself. She’s a little freaked out at first but once she see’s it’s you she giggles.

You don’t really expect her to spank you back but she does. With the same amount of force that you used.

It kinda escalates into a competition where you two see who can land the most spanks in one day. Just don’t do it in front of her brother.

You’re losing btw.

Sunday

Do NOT spank him in public. He will be very crossed with you. Not funny did not laugh.

You may proceed with the spank if you are in private though.

He actually squeaks when you do. Then once the initial shock wears off he laughs, incredibly amused by you. Doesn’t say it but he plans on returning the favor.

When he does get you back you don’t expect it. You’re probably cooking or marking off the calendar when he passes you and goes, “Good morning, my love.” And then he slaps your butt. Moderate strength, enough to make you yelp but not enough to sting.

[yamujiburo]

Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.

Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.

Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.

She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.

Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.

Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.

Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.

The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.

At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.

Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.

She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.

They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).

The end~