#like. do you want to fucking know what makes them fucking different. one is fighting for fucking liberation and the other is fighting for

[lazyscience]

Question - what should people do?

I am serious like a goddamn heart attack, what do you think posting "BUT SHIT IS REALLY BAD AND PEOPLE SHOULD FREAK OUT" without any kind of suggested action is good for other than feeling morally superior?

"but people need to KNOW" - why? Why do people need to stand in this paralyzing fire hose of negativity and horror UNLESS THERE IS AN ACTION ITEM IT'S POINTING TO? Why do people need to feel more scared and helpless? Why is that good, other than punishing "the liberals" or "the leftists" or "the centrists" or whoever it is you're still mad at about the election outcome?

What you are doing is saying "look at all this awful shit that's happened" - key word HAPPENED, as in, can't be undone - "you are not nearly upset enough about this!" - how is telling people they are gullible, stupid and wrong for not panicking and doomering accomplishing anything either?

Maybe, just maybe, if now is the time to act, SUGGEST ACTIONS, jesus christ.

Like for example, live voice calling, faxing, or paper-mailing their Senators and representatives about the funding freeze, since those are physical items that they have to interact with/cost money unlike emails that just disappear into filters. And also getting hold of your STATE governor/lege to let them know "fuck Trump, this is not what the people who elected YOU want."

Like supporting government unions so they can protect their members.

Like contributing to food banks, clothing drives, and organizations fighting homelessness to increase their ability to help if people start getting forced out of jobs.

Like supporting journalist-owned news outlets like RawStory and ProPublica.

Like volunteering and/or donating to civil rights organizations to advocate where these structures are being dismantled.

Like teaching people who don't know how to fucking read so we can eventually dig ourselves out of this goddamn hole.

Like all the shit on this helpful list of actions to take that are neither attending a protest or voting.

Like checking in on their colleagues and friends who are directly affected by this shit? I did this today (I am one degree removed because a lot of the funding from my department comes from NIH, but do not myself work for the federal government. And similarly, I know people at NCI/NIH, like actually meatspace know, and yes, I am very worried about them!)

How about instead of just screaming at everyone "it's too late! everything sucks! why aren't you all screaming everything sucks!" why don't you help people who already feel overwhelmed, scared and like they're too small and useless to make a difference even if they tried, to know what they CAN do.

Otherwise, you aren't hurting Spraytan Hitler and Wannabe Lex Luthor, you're helping them spread chaos, fear and defeatism.

Every time I see "um actually executive orders take time to implement" I want to shake you and actually point you at the literal communications and actions happening IMMEDIATELY in the federal workforce. Which is what these orders are targeting.

The Dept of Ed already put people on paid leave and took down 200 web pages and cancelled 2.6 mil in grant money. The National Institute of Health, which is the biggest federal funder of biomedical research in the country/world, just cancelled its grant review process because those grants and the reviewers were all trained to include diversity support statements. This is happening to the NSF. NASA already started putting employees who do DEI on paid leave and encouraged other employees to snitch on people. The CDC is not allowed to communicate with the public.

This is happening now. Who the fuck cares of it gets challenged in court? It's *happening now.* Reversing it in court in several months (if we're so lucky, which I am NOT confident in, actually) does not necessarily give people back their jobs (or put them in a position to accept them if they are legally forced to get a chance to return to them) and does not undo hostility in the workforce that this has sown and does not give out grant money that was withheld.

And it's not just DEI. it's Accessibility too. It's happening *now.* Policies are getting reversed, and people are going to lose their jobs. Period.

No one is looking at the news and actually reading it. Everyone is just biting their nails at the headlines and letting people falsely comfort them that they don't need to worry or do anything yet.

[cleoselene]

don't doomscroll, DO SOMETHING. Don't complain, TAKE ACTION. here are things you can do:

call your Congresspeople. If you are living in a Democratic district, this is so easy! Tell them how YOU want them to fight! Don't just sit back and complain that "Dems in congress aren't doing what I want." CALL THEM AND TELL THEM WHAT YOU WANT. EMAIL THEM. And be nice about it, lead with the illusion that you trust them to do the right thing. "I know you don't really want this to happen, you're a good person!" methodology.

If your reps are like mine and horrible horrible monsters like Byron Donalds, then you have to make your phone calls differently. You gotta strategize these. There are two ways to do this: 1) be incredibly angry and aggressive, but filibuster about it. Don't give them any ability to get off the phone. Don't curse or insult, just properly outraged. The key here is to WASTE THEIR TIME. I spend about 45 minutes on the phone with one of Rick Scott's people once. The other way, i think is more effective, but this is better than nothing. The other way, 2) is to frame the specific issue you're calling about from the most conservative angle possible. If you're calling to support Ukraine, cry about how your daddy fought in 'Nam to stomp out communism, now you want to let a KGB guy like Putin bring back the Soviet Union? Act super fucking scared of communism. Say the words "KGB" and Putin together over and over. Talk about how America doesn't roll over for Russia, not now, not ever. This is just an example of a particular issue, but it can apply to any. My mom calls it the "sandwich technique." Lead with a compliment, then say what you really mean, and end with a compliment. People get tricked into changing their minds.

I realize this is tumblr so if you are really really that phone-phobic, apply this to email. But really, this is worth making the call for. The call cannot be fully ignored. An email can.

Join the class action lawsuit against the government for Breach of Privacy if you have Social Security or Medicare, and tell people you know who do to join it.

get involved at the local level. Agitate at city council. hell, RUN for city council. I promise you that no matter how unqualified you think you are, less qualified people have run and won. There was a town that had a golden retriever as its mayor for a while. You have to start thinking locally. You have to start doing things ALL THE TIME, not just every 2-4 years. This isn't just voting, but making your voice heard. That tumblr post about ten people showing up at a council meeting being able to change thing significantly? True. "But I live in a red area!" yeah, so do I, and that makes it even more important, since they're doing shit like banning books in schools here.

Run for office!! I just said that, but seriously, run for office!! AOC was a bartender before she got where she is now!! If I were not completely disabled, I'd do it. If you don't feel like it's for you, think of the people in your life who are capable who might be persuaded!

Focus on the real enemy. It's Republicans. It's not Democrats. Like I said, if you're unhappy with the way your Democratic rep is doing things, TELL THEM. Sitting outside the party and criticizing accomplishes nothing, it only weakens our only opposition party in this country. If you want to talk about third parties, MAKE ONE THAT'S VIABLE. But realize that will probably be decades of work. Stop complaining and start doing, start reaching out to the people who at the moment have some ability to do things and influence THEM. You can say a lot of things on the internet and expect to change the world, but you won't. (Yes, I realize the ridiculousness of me posting this on the internet, but I will be doing things, too, not just shouting into this void)

[lvrsatoru]

╭ pairing ⸺ gojo satoru x reader

╭ drabble ⸺ 1.8k, before his final fight with sukuna, gojo reunites with someone he thought had been long gone </3 sorry in advance luvs

𐙚 december 24th, age 28

she’s standing in front of him.

she’s standing in front of him.

she’s standing in front of him.

his mind loops over the thought, unable to process it, unable to accept it. his six eyes tell him it’s real—she’s real—every fiber of his being tuned to the cursed energy signature he knows better than his own.

but it can’t be.

because he was 23 when he kissed her goodbye for the last time. because he was 23 when he got the call, when he read the report, when he stared at the empty space where her body should’ve been.

because forever had lasted less than a year.

and yet—

“satoru,” she whispers, hesitant, careful.

his name in her voice sends a violent shudder through him.

his infinity is still up. she hasn’t touched him. she can’t.

but he feels her anyway.

it’s muscle memory, instinct. his body still reacts to her, still leans toward her even as his mind tells him to run.

he doesn’t.

but he doesn’t move forward, either.

she takes another slow step, like she’s afraid he’ll bolt.

“you look different,” she says, soft but teasing, a poor attempt at levity.

his throat is too tight to respond.

her gaze drifts over him, and the weight of it makes his skin prickle, makes him aware of how much he has changed.

his hair is shorter now, with the undercut he gave himself one night, after she’d left. he’s leaner, stronger, his body hardened by war and loss and time.

but she—she looks like she’s lived, like she has known something beyond grief and battle and the never-ending ache of survival.

and it makes him feel sick.

like she’s had years he wasn’t a part of. like she kept going while he stood still.

like the dead had the audacity to age.

“where the hell have you been?” his voice comes out strangled, hoarse, barely a whisper.

her expression shifts, guilt flashing across her face before she can hide it.

“satoru—”

“where have you been?” louder, harsher this time.

she flinches.

and it kills him, because she’s not supposed to flinch at him.

she takes another step forward, cautious, careful.

his infinity is still up.

she stops.

“you’re not real,” he says flatly, more to himself than to her.

she blinks, startled. “what?”

“you’re not real. you’re a trick. a clone. a shapeshifter. an illusion.” he lists them off mechanically, like if he keeps saying it, it’ll become the truth.

but his six eyes don’t lie.

and neither does the ache in his chest.

she swallows, and for the first time, he sees the fear in her eyes.

but it’s not fear of him.

it’s fear for him.

he hates it.

he hates that she still looks at him like that. like he’s something fragile, like she’s worried he’s about to fall apart.

because he is.

he is, and she knows it.

she’s always known.

“satoru, it’s me,” she says, voice softer now, and god, it sounds like home.

he shakes his head.

no.

no, no, no, no

this is cruel.

this is so fucking cruel.

“you died,” he says, as if saying it aloud will make it true again.

her face crumples, and he has to look away, has to stare at the ground because if he meets her eyes, he’s going to break.

“i had to leave,” she whispers.

his jaw clenches.

“you left,” he repeats, voice hollow.

she hesitates. “i—”

“you left.”

his infinity flickers.

just for a second.

just long enough for her to step forward, just enough for her to lift a hand to his face—

just enough for her fingers to brush against his skin.

he shatters.

the breath rushes out of him like he’s been struck. his legs feel weak. his hands, which have been clenched into fists, loosen, tremble.

her hand is warm, so impossibly warm.

it has been five years since someone has touched him like this.

since she has touched him like this.

he wants to pull away, wants to shove her back and demand why, why, why, why she thought she had the right to do this, to touch him, to stand here in front of him like she hadn’t been a ghost for half a decade.

but he doesn’t.

he can’t.

he leans into it instead, his face tilting into her palm like it’s instinct, like he has no choice in the matter.

and maybe he doesn’t

maybe he never has.

“you left,” he whispers, softer this time, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come.

“i’m sorry.”

it’s so quiet he barely hears it.

but he feels it.

feels the tremor in her hand, the way her thumb brushes against his cheekbone, the way her fingers tighten against his skin like she’s afraid he might slip away.

like he’s the ghost.

“you left me,” he repeats, because it’s the only thing he can hold onto, the only thing that makes sense in all of this.

“i know.”

“you—” his voice breaks, and he hates himself for it, hates the way his shoulders shake, hates the way he can’t stop leaning into her.

her forehead rests against his, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his breath coming out shaky and uneven.

“i know,” she whispers again, her voice cracking.

his hands move on their own, gripping her waist, holding her there.

he shouldn’t.

he shouldn’t.

but he does.

he clutches her like she might disappear again, like she might slip through his fingers if he lets go.

she wraps her arms around him.

and that’s when he breaks.

a sound leaves him—something between a sob and a laugh, something raw and guttural and helpless—and he buries his face in her shoulder, his whole body trembling.

she smells the same.

she feels the same.

but everything else is different.

he is different.

“i thought i was getting better,” he breathes. “i thought i—I thought I was moving on.”

“i know,” she says, holding him tighter.

“i wasn’t.”

“i know.”

he swallows, his throat tight, his hands clenching at the fabric of her clothes.

“i still love you,” he admits, and it feels like surrender, like defeat.

she exhales, a shaky, broken thing, and pulls back just enough to cup his face again.

“i still love you too,” she whispers.

it’s unfair.

it’s so fucking unfair.

because she’s here.

but she won’t be for long.

and he’s about to die.

they stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, both afraid to let go. he clings to her, hands curled into the fabric at her waist, like if he holds on tight enough, time will stop, and none of this will matter.

but he knows better.

time has never been kind to him.

“you have to go, don’t you?” he murmurs.

she stiffens.

he pulls back just enough to look at her, to search her face for answers, and god—he hates that she looks guilty.

“tell me,” he says, voice quiet but firm.

she bites her lip, hesitates.

and that alone is enough to set him off.

he pulls back entirely now, hands falling from her like she’s burned him.

“don’t,” he snaps. “don’t look at me like that. like you already know how this ends.”

“satoru—”

“don’t.”

she exhales, looks away.

and fuck, it’s happening again, isn’t it? she’s leaving again.

“why?” he demands. “why now? why show up just to—” he stops himself before he can say it, before he can put words to the fear clawing at his throat.

just to leave me again.

she steps forward again, hesitant, like she’s unsure if she’s still allowed.

but his infinity is still down.

he hates himself for it.

“there are things i can��t tell you,” she says finally, and he wants to scream.

“that’s bullshit.”

her jaw tightens. “it’s the truth.”

he laughs, sharp and humorless, runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“i spent five years thinking you were dead,” he says, voice low, almost trembling. “five years, and you come back just to—just to what? tell me there are things you can’t tell me? give me some cryptic half-truths and expect me to accept it?”

“it’s not that simple.”

“it never is with you.”

she winces.

it makes him feel sick.

“do you think this is easy for me?” she asks, voice cracking.

he stares at her, and for the first time since he’s seen her again, he lets himself really look.

her hair is longer, her face a little older. she carries herself differently now, like someone who’s had to live a life she never wanted.

it hits him then—she didn’t want this, either.

but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“why did you come back?” he asks, quiet now, all the fight drained out of him.

she takes a shaky breath.

“because you’re about to fight sukuna,” she says.

his stomach drops.

he had almost forgotten.

almost.

the weight of the truth settles in his chest.

she came back because she knows.

“you think I’m going to lose,” he says flatly.

her eyes are glassy, but she doesn’t deny it.

his breath catches.

“i don’t—” he swallows, shakes his head. “i don’t know how to do this.”

she reaches for him again, and this time, he lets her.

her fingers trail over his cheek, down his jaw, feather-light and devastating.

“neither do i,” she whispers.

and suddenly, he hates her for this.

for coming back, for giving him this sliver of something just to take it away again.

but he can’t be angry.

because she’s here.

she’s here.

and it’s the cruelest thing the universe has ever done to him.

“stay,” he says, and it’s not a demand—it’s a plea.

she swallows hard, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“i can’t.”

his hands tighten on her waist, his chest aching so badly he can hardly stand it.

“please.”

she shakes her head, her own tears slipping free now.

“i can’t,” she says again, and it shatters him.

he presses his forehead to hers, closes his eyes, breathes her in.

because this is all he gets.

a stolen moment before the end.

she holds him just as tightly.

“i love you,” she whispers.

his breath hitches.

“i still love you,” she says, voice breaking. “i never stopped.”

his chest cracks open at that, something deep inside him splintering beyond repair.

his grip tightens, fingers digging into her like he can carve her into his skin, like he can keep her here.

he doesn’t say it back.

because it’s never been a question.

because of course he loves her.

of course he does.

he always has.

he always will.

but she’s already slipping away.

and he lets her go.

[garez19]

isekai’d! yandere x reader

I think we’ve talked about isekai’d reader already… but what do you think about a yandere who just got isekaid into a silly little world?

notes: mention of an injury (not descibed), no pronouns used for the reader, no use of y/n

when he finds himself in a completely different place, he mutters a curse word as he tries to get up.

huh?

huh?

and when he finally realizes this is the bedroom he has seen in that one webtoon, he runs to the bathroom. he takes a look in the mirror and he curses under his breath again as he sees the image of the main character. he touches his blond hair, and he looks himself with pure confusion.

“I can’t believe I just turned blonde,” he sighs. “man, fuck my life.”

but good thing he is the main character, right? well, there was no other character who were as charismatic as him apart from the protagonist, right? moreover, he quite likes the main character too, and relates to him on a deeper as the story processes. they have similar personalities and a similar way of approaching the situations. he rarely enjoys webtoons but well, good thing he found a cool one, no? however, when he figures out there are more to be upset over being blonde, he curses again. because hell, this was not a romance story.

this was a fantasy. a very descriptive and terrifying one too.

yet, he is at an advantage, he repeats, because he has read it multiple times, and very much knows about the ending.

he knows what to do, he knows who he should team up with, he knows who to stay away from, and he most certainly knows how he needs to handle anything that’ll ever happen.

he does handle it well. and he knows the ending will be priceless. he is sure it’s going to be alright. and he knows you too, the side-character with little to no role, but quite loved by the readers, he recalls. you help him out once or twice, and have your iconic moments too.

well, a shame you were going to die, huh? because you truly feel real, you make him feel like he’s not completely alone in this world. he finds you creepy in the sense that he is reminded the real world by you. he finds you relatable. and he finds your creepiness comforting in its own way, coming from the familiarity.

so he keeps you close. he doesn’t want to be all alone in a completely different world. he doesn’t want to face all this all by himself with all these puppets around them.

he asks you to join his adventures. and you accept it. you two become as close as you can, and he knows the chapter that you die in is soon to come.

and he most certainly isn’t ready.

so when you come along with him to do your duty respectfully, knowing you were going to pass away right there, he calls out your name.

“you’re not coming.” he says. you look up at him with an obvious confusion.

“why not?” you ask.

“because you aren’t needed. you just stay here.” he adds. and you frown, still confused. you definitely are needed there. everyone is needed there. and you are going to go. another thing that made you liked by the audience, brave and willing to take action.

“well, you aren’t coming, end of discussion. I can just lock you up if you want to keep talking.” he says. and although you think he just wanted to half-joke and assert some kind of dominance, he is definitely serious about it.

and you don’t need to know.

or you do. because fuck, you leave him little to no thing to do when you don’t listen and follow him around. there’s a different expression on his face, one that you hadn’t seen until now. it’s almost like he’s panicked, and you can’t understand why he panics when he sees you—considering there are way more scary things around the area.

he calls out to his best friend, and the horrifying creature they fight with seems wrathful. he needs to get you out of here. he needs to do it quickly.

“cairos will escort you, and we will talk about it once i come back, okay?” you’ve never seen him so upset, and you’re not sure why he acts so crazy about the whole situation. you look at cairos, and he seem shocked too, yet he accepts quickly and takes the lead. you’re sure if you’re supposed to do anything but obey now. and you follow him to the place.

“you’re fucked up, I must say,” cairos jokes.

“what did I even do anyway?” you huff. and to be fair, he doesn’t understand either, but there’s no way he’d get so mad if there wasn’t a reason, right?

“well, uh, beats me, but you shouldn’t do that again, you know.” he adds. and the rest of the path is quiet, with this uneasiness around you.

this was your last duty. one last one and you were going to be done and go back to your own life. at least according to what the wizard has told you anyway. and he has just messed it all up.

fuck

so what are you supposed to do know? wait for the beasts to hunt you down so you can go back? cairos tells you he needs to go back when you arrive, and that both he and you will be in big trouble if you decide to do that again.

so you wait quietly, and think of a new solution as you do so.

***

“luka’s injured, fuck,” cairos curses. and as you take him to his bed and bandage him up, you can’t help but think that none of these would happen if you were there. if things had gone as planned, maybe you’d have even waken up and drink a cup of tea in your room as you re-read the whole story once again.

“I mean, it takes two to tango,” you mock. cairos frowns.

“shut up.”

cairos has no serious injuries, but you tell him that he also needs to go and take a rest instead of waiting for him to wake up. although he tries to protest, the tiredness takes over his body, and he leaves as he keeps repeating to keep him updated.

and then you hear him shouting your name. you panic as you think he needs something, or is in pain.

“you okay?” you ask. he seems relaxed for a second.

“I really should have locked you up, right?” he smiles. after seeing him in such anger, you don’t know if you should be laughing at his “jokes”.

“it’s not my fault you can’t decide whether someone is needed or not.” you sneer.

“you are very much needed, just not there.” he says. you can see how tired he is, and you can’t help but cringe whenever you see his bandaged wound.

“I think you should rest now,” you say, “we can talk it out when you’re better.”

he nods. “but you’ll stay here, right?” he asks. “I mean, in case something happens. I have lost so much blood, you see.” he adds quickly. like he’s a silly kid ashamed of thunders and wants to sleep with his parents.

“of course.” you smiled.

***

luka truly has been enjoying the past week. the story is not supposed to go this way because well, you should be dead by now, but the author should’ve written that part better, no?

but he likes the fact that you’re always around to take care of him, as he makes it obvious you are the reason he’s got hurt when cairos had to leave him for more than half an hour.

and you truly feel guilty, not because of going there, but because of coming back. now the main character is badly injured, and you are still alive. you are still not in your own world. so you do whatever he needs, and you even treat him so nicely that he honestly considers getting injured more often.

yet, when he is finally all recovered, and the next chapters are even more dangerous for you, for him, for everyone; he decides he doesn’t give a damn about completing the story correctly, nor does he care about going back.

you can’t leave. you physically can’t.

and he’ll make sure of it.

[macsimagines]

YANDERE!SHINICHIRO SANO ONE NIGHT STAND

ok so here it is. I hope it's ok I'm kinda iffy about it let me know what you all think!! this is worst timeline btw!!!

MINORS DNIWARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ONE NIGHT STAND, SPANKING AND DRINKING

You had no idea what you were even doing with your life. Late at night, in a run down jazz bar, you found yourself sitting on a stool sipping a cocktail all by yourself.

The piano on stage skillfully played a tune that was just pleasant enough for you to feel yourself to start to ease slightly. Maybe the drinks and bar itself weren't anything special, but at least there was music.

"Tastes like shit," a somber voice says to your side. You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet a dark pair. Two onyx eyes that seemed to only reflect abyss.

Maybe on a different day you would have just ignored him, but tonight? You were feeling brave.

"What's wrong with it?" you inquire, suddenly finding the stranger fascinating. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark soul. You think you may have a type.

His eyes barely lift from his glass, a dark liquid swirling with his ice, "It's bitter." He answer plainly. Maybe his monotone response should make you reconsider trying to spark a connection...but something about his voice...

"It's... bourbon, right? You should've gotten a cocktail if you wanted something sweeter," you purr, pushing your own glass toward him, "Wanna taste mine?"

Finally, his eyes fully meet yours and something in the way that they analyze you has a shiver running across your skin. He's handsome, pretty even, and you find yourself feeling just a little hot under his intense stare.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. There's the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. Then he's sliding his hand, purposefully brushing your fingertips, and taking the glass from you. Your eyes never break contact as he brings the glass to his lips, his tongue licking at the sugar coated rim first.

You can feel your thighs clench at the erotic image this stranger makes. Something inside of you aching with a sudden need. "Well?" you say, scooting in closer, "Better?"

"Dunno," the man says leaning in closer, "I'm in the mood for somethin' much sweeter." You feel a rough hand come up and firmly squeeze your thigh.

Maybe its the alcohol, the atmosphere, or those gorgeous void like eyes of his, but you find yourself checking into a hotel with that stranger. Yes. Stranger.

His name doesn't matter, what he does for a living or why he's in this part of town. The only thing that matters is how good his hands feel around your throat and inside your aching pussy.

You don't care about all his tattoos or the fact that their was a danger slowly growing in those perfect eyes of his. A strange sort of obsession?

Tonight, you don't fight. When his hand cracks down hard against your ass, you moan and beg for more. When he makes you kiss him and devours every sound you try to make. And not even when he's plunging deep into you and pounding like a man going for broke.

As you start to see stars and get light headed, you allow this man, a man whose name you didn't even care to know, to have his sick and depraved way with you.

"Be my good-girl," he purrs a rough hand coming to wrap around your neck, "Stick out your tongue for me." You end up mindlessly doing as he says, so eager to please. And your pussy clenches and flutters around his thick girth when he meets it with his own.

Shamefully, you're just moaning when you fill him cum inside you, loving the feeling. And finally the man stops his constant praise of 'Good girl, perfect woman, mine so fucking mine,' to look you in the eyes again.

There's something different about them. Almost child like and wide. There is the smallest light in them and through the haze of your orgasm you swear there was something else...

But you're so spent and exhausted that you end up passing out in his arms. You're sure it won't matter in the morning, either one of you will be gone. Right?

You're surprised to find him still sleeping soundly next to you. You can't believe your good luck when you find he was as beautiful as you had remembered him being. The pleasant soreness of your body also told you that the sex hadn't just been the greatest wet dream of your life.

Its a shame you have to go. You two might actually be compatible, but something like that just didn't work out for you. Maybe if things were different... No. You won't let yourself fall for some stranger.

You're trying to get yourself dressed and out the door as quietly as possible but something is grabbing your wrist and pulling you back-! Right into someone's solid chest.

"Quit makin' all th'racket," he slurs, nose rubbing into your neck, "Lay back down with me, baby."

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and his soft touches remind you of everything from the night before. Fuck you want to stay for another round- or 3 -but you really needed to leave. So you try to push back.

"S-Sorry for waking you. I'll be out in just a second. I'll leave my half of the bill-!"

"You're not fucking going anywhere, Y/N."

Ice quickly runs down your spine. You're very sure you didn't tell him your name. You were supposed to be nameless strangers after all.

You turn to glare at him seeing that he has his phone open. "I had a friend of mine do some diggin' on you after you passed out last night." He tells you calmly. Like he didn't just admit to doing a creepy back ground check on you.

"Let go of me." You demand fighting back harder, "I want to go home!"

This man only smirks from where he sits on the bed his eyes having gone back to being cold and dead. "You brought me back into the light, baby. I'm your home now."

[sufferu]

Finally read the most recently translated Arc 9 chapters (up to chapter 18).

Aldebaran is fucking crazy but we all knew that. Wasn’t prepared for him to start paralleling all of the IF Routes and also Natchuki Subawu like that though oh my GOD. —Well I WAS, but not to THAT EXTENT—

Including a parallel to the pinky promise scene was vile lmao. Love it

Heinkel is amazing. Truly the universe’s punching bag. I’m really wondering about his “sturdiness” now lol — but also, him and Reinhard…!

PETRA KNOWWWS— But she only read that one Book, hmm…? So she only knows a little bit… BUT ITS ENOUGH—

I wonder if the Witch of Envy would have come out if Petra had read Any Other Book, or if it was specifically because Subaru had confessed about Return By Death that she surfaced like that…

I love that none of these people were trying to kill Aldebaran lmao. Ezzo, Garfiel, Reinhard, and I’m pretty sure Felt, too — all of them were just trying to fucking pacify him. And then he kept killing himself over and over again. What were they thinking in all those loops? What the fuck was that?

What do you MEAN Reinhard doesn’t actually have the [Divine Protection of Wind Reading]?! I mean it makes sense in context but WOW. OKAY.

(…BTZ just got ever so slightly easier to write, not gonna lie— like I had plans for how to deal with that, but I guess I don’t need them after all)

…You know, I knew that Al would be paralleling Subaru and Subawu and all the IF Barus. I did NOT expect to see Arc 3 Rem being paralleled by an “all-purpose maid” character who is explicitly, openly, and gleefully facilitating Aldebaran’s sprint towards his own self-destruction and eventual suicide. That’s — wow. Even when Amnesiac!Rem isn’t around, Arc 3 Rem isn’t getting even a single break in the subtext of the story, is she?

Interpreting Priscilla as a symbol of fate within the story of Re:Zero really adds a whole other layer to Aldebaran’s internal contemplation about her character and how she interacted with those around her.

These characters sure do love commenting on death, suicide, immortality, and all that junk, don’t they? It really takes on a different tone when you realize that everything they’re saying is supposed to be applicable to Subaru in some way (and also Aldebaran).

Aldebaran needs to get rid of Natsuki Subaru “So that I can be myself.” …I really have the feeling that he read Subaru’s Book of the Dead and it blended their identities together somewhat, and that’s why he’s like this. Could also match with him losing his Authority when he got de-aged while Subaru didn’t — as well as why baby!Al was like. DRASTICALLY different from baby!Subaru, with him being a huge crybaby and all while Natchuki Subawu himself was off chasing shinobis and being a little hell-raiser. If that experience got temporarily reversed due to the whole de-aging thing, then that could very well explain all that. …Wonder who he would have been before that.

The idea of Aldebaran wanting to kill himself immediately after gaining his own identity WOULD parallel how Sphinx only finally got her own identity in the instant before she croaked.

The Witch of Envy IGNORES him, he says? …Huh.

Okay so Aldebaran SPECIFICALLY learned Al Shario from Echidna because she expected him to take over Volcanica and use it to fight Reinhard. Which means that she planned for this to happen. Which means that she planned for everything up to this point to happen. …There are a LOT of implications that come with that reveal. A LOT OF THEM.

Felt showed up with FIVE HUNDRED FRIENDS. REINHARD HAS FRIENDS.

Man tho I’m really looking forward to all the Felt Camp focus. They’ve had some really great moments already…!

[anarchistkale]

What the fuck were the character designs in Castlevania Judgement

Weird first post for a blog supposedly about anarchism and/or game design, but it includes designs in a game and I do what I want so fuck it. I just became aware of Castlevania Judgement, a 2009 fighting game featuring a grab bag of characters from across the Castlevania franchise. And the visual designs of the characters in this game are absolutely fucking BATSHIT, and not (in my opinion) in a good way. I'm gonna show you (with "you" being the roughly two hypothetical people who might actually see this post) a few examples to demonstrate what I mean.

First we got Trevor Belmont. Why is he called Ralph in this? Fucked if I know. Look at the straps on this son of a bitch's chest! Why the everloving fuck would an outfit need this many straps? Are the gray bits meant to be metal or leather? Genuinely can't tell. And would you believe me if I told you this is one of the least insane designs in this game?

This is Grant Danasty. Why? Why any of this? He's not fucking mummified in the game he originally appears in. He's just a dude. What is going on with his proportions, how is he supposed to use that weapon without shredding his arm, and what the fuck is up with those inward-facing spikes on his wrist? Weird shit on the wrists and feet is going to be a common theme with these designs. That and random, unnecessary spikes sticking off of everything.

Then there's Sypha Belnades. Setting aside that goofy-looking bulbous staff, just take a look at those boots. What the fuck are those metal crosses doing sticking off the front of her high heels? Are they supposed to be armour? How are they even attached? And what in the world is that on her wrist? Utterly unhinged. That's not even to mention the egregiously tight pants and the unbelievably tittieful top they've got her in: we'll see much worse in that department later on.

Next up is Maria Renard. So much "what the fuck" going on here. Again, the shoes are unhinged. The pink front bits, the boosted heeled soles, and the black parts look like pieces of three separate pieces of footwear stitched together very poorly. What are those black straps just above the boots? Part of the tights? Individual straps that she puts on one at a time over the tights? Madness. What are those plus-shaped things holding her pigtails? The dress is just four different 2012 Hot Topic outfits torn up and haphazardly sewn together, and that staff. What in the holy blessed fuck is that staff? Fucking candelabra-ass base, tiny little narrow bit connecting the cage to the rest of it about to snap off at any moment, and is that bird meant to be in horrible agony inside that twisted metal cage? Because it definitely is. Also, deduct 1,000 points for putting the small child in such a short skirt, obviously. Disgusting, hate to see it, moving on.

Alucard, my beloved. What have they done to you? Look at those gauntlets. The upward pointing spike. The looping bit of metal from the wrist to the elbow. What would possess someone to design gauntlets that way? More random spikes on the pointless red line curving across his chest. And again, the boots are unbelievable. Look at the ankles. Why is there that bulging out bit? What purpose does that serve other than to make the wearer trip on their own feet constantly? Outrageous.

Motherfucking Dracula. Lord of Darkness, most powerful vampire in history, etc. He has two rows of what appear to be golden nipples running down his chest. They're not spikes, they're clearly hollow. What the fuck else would you even call them? And then of course there's the exorbitant amount of pointless spikes coming off of his back and the mantle behind his head. Why the squiggly lines along his sleeve? Thank fuck we can't see his feet so we're not subjected to more atrocious boots. But don't you motherfuckers worry. I saved the worst for last.

Carmilla. For the love of all that is holy, what the FUCK have they done to Carmilla? Look at this! Where do I even start? Of course there's the elephant in the room, and the elephant is tits. The design is hyper-sexualized to a comical degree, of course, but that's not uncommon. It's not that she's in elaborate BDSM gear that melts my brain here. What is going on with that...weapon? Oddly shaped, spikey shield with two spikey balls sticking off the side and a bizarrely curved blade protruding out from the front? Never mind how that blade seems barely attached and liable to snap off on the first swing, how is she supposed to even use it? I've looked up gameplay clips of her fighting, but everything is so visually messy in the clips I've found that it's hard to tell what's meant to be happening. The only thing the camera ever focuses clearly on is her boobs jiggling. Then of course there's the outrageous gauntlet on her off-hand, with another precariously attached, oddly shaped, utterly pointless blade sticking off her forearm. Obviously there's the ubiquitous unnecessary spikes all over everything. But worst of all, as usual, is the boots. I've run out of different ways to say what the fuck in this post, so I'll do it in caps: WHAT THE FUCK ARE THOSE? The blades sticking up in the back that look like they'd shred her calves when she walks. The protruding bladed disks coming off the heels that would shred her ankles when she walks. The oddly angled spikes on either side of the front. Perhaps most nonsensically, the fact that the boots don't seem to be secured to her feet in any way: looks like she just slips her feet into them, no straps or anything. She's supposed to be FIGHTING in these! This shit is insane, I feel like I'm losing my mind.

What was the art director thinking? What could have possibly been the rationale for this design philosophy? I don't know, but I needed to share. If anyone sees this rambling mess of a post and wants to share their own favourite examples of bugfuck nonsense videogame character designs, I'd love to see them.

[unknownogre]

( I got a little inspired from Facebook...and was just able to sit down today to write it. I approached it not exactly from the prompt's direction too but that is the scene that popped in my head.)

“Well…I have to ask, am I dead?”

Moments ago I was just sitting at my desk sipping a cup of coffee playing a lovely game of slaughter the Nazi when I found myself suddenly not there. Still had my coffee in had though, Deadpool pajama pants for the whole damn world to see no shoes and, I’m sorry to those that had to see me, no shirt. Someone was standing in front of me too, lithe build with a very baggy hoodie and baggy pants on wearing some kind of sneaker and a face that was obscured by shadows that were impossibly dark for the time of day and location.

“No, finish your coffee and let’s go.”

Fuck…people were walking around us like they didn’t notice me or them. The voice of the person was androgynous and a touch echoey. I knew one thing in this moment, without introduction and without me even having to ask the question, in my bones I knew this was Death. THE Death the primordial force that will exist until the end of the universe.  So weird, I wonder if they developed that power just to make it easier.

“Alright, fuck it. Not like I have a choice do I…?”

I already hate this. I’ve got body issues, most fat guys do no matter the praise they get. Fuck, I hope I don’t have to fight anything. I have no idea how I’ll do. I don’t fight, no one wants to fight me so I’ve never had to.

“No you don’t have to fight. Maybe, I’m not sure. People handle the situation differently. I’m just Death, I don’t know the future or the past. Think there is a time you’re supposed to die? Absolutely not. Chaos my friend. Complete Chaos.”

That…honestly that made me feel a lot better about a lot of things. Though to delve into that right now would completely pull my focus away from whatever this is.

“Why me?”

I had to ask as we walked another block. If Death was powerful enough to just pull me out of my living room I figured we could at least get closer, though…my feet don’t hurt even though they are bare so that is good at least.

“In a two-thousand-mile radius of my current problem your soul was the only one that matched what I needed…what ever that is. I don’t know have exact details. I just know when I problem arises and I need help I concentrate and the one who is best able to help just appears to me like a blip on a radar.”

Well…it is nice to be needed right. I mean I doubt that is the case, I’m not that special. I’m just me. I took another sip of my coffee.

“What do I get out of this?”

I don’t work for free. I’m completely convinced when given any modicum of power I’d go full on super villain. I know at my core I’m evil, just the kind of evil that still wants to protect those that love and cherish. Touch my wife and I’ll burn the whole damn world down, same for my kid. So again, I wonder why I was the blip.

“A favor.”

That was all Death needed to say. I get a favor from Death, I mean I bet there are rules and what not attached to it, but who wouldn’t want a favor from Death. That was enough for me.

“And lunch. A favor and lunch and you have yourself a deal.”

Death stopped and turned around to look at me, I could feel the weight of their gaze too but I just stood there and stared at where I thought their eyes would be crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk…Never take fully what is offered. Ask for just a little more.

“You got it. Cause I know what you want…hell I want it too. A favor and lunch.”

That was good enough for me. Almost made me forget I was shirtless and barefoot in a large city. We approached a hospital and headed right in. We passed the nurses station, and I was able to grab a scrub top much to their confusion. I felt better with a shirt on at least. We went up to the morgue…and there…holy crap.

It was some kind of creature, twisted with pitch flesh and blood ooze from various places, like self-inflicted wounds. It was just roaring and trying to smash through things it couldn’t fully interact with. There were some forms in the corner cowering in fear…ghosts? I don’t have time to question everything.

“Calm them down.”

…wait…what?!..

It was just a roaring beast that was at least six feet tall. I think it was meant to be bi-pedal but it was only that way sometimes. Like how some movies show werewolves, like they can walk a few steps until they want to run and then it is down on all fours.

“Well…fuck. Okay. Hey.”

I started waving slightly. The creature made a swipe for me but It was slow I was able to step back to avoid it. The ‘mission’ was to calm them down. Calm, not hurt, not subdue but calm.

“HEY!”

I said again, but this time with the power of dad voice. I didn’t like using it much, unless we were outside and my kid was about to run into a parking lot or something just as dangerous. I have NO information to go off of. Death wasn’t a planner were they? The creature’s attention was fully on me now. Good, that is what I needed…not what I wanted though. I knew I wasn’t dead now because my heart was hammering in my chest.

“Knock it the fuck off okay. You are scaring the shit out of these other people. What the hell is going on anyway? I’m sure being dead sucks but this…this can’t be good for you, can it?”

The creature seemed to understand my words if only for a moment before it roared at me. Its mouth…chilling. Elongated like a wolf but the teeth…they were human. I could make money on this if I could get into practical effects and recreate the look.

What to do. I had to use a chair to keep it back and out of swiping range. I don’t think I can actually die here…but maybe no risk no reward.

“This can’t kill you, but if it manages to hurt you too bad I am SOL and will have to destroy it completely. I don’t want to do that so I brought you.”

So it was a soul, something twisted and probably not evil. Otherwise there would be no sympathy. I need more compassion. The  creatures attention was still on me and all those cowering in the corner were watching with rapt attention. There is a lot of rage here, so much anger, and where there is anger there is sadness. Okay…okay…got it.

“Hey, we are just gonna talk alright. I won’t yell anymore. Just calm, just calm and cool. Listen I can’t help you right now. Not with all this rage and aggression. Trust me. I want to help you. I get nothing out of the situation if you are harmed. What happened? Why are you so angry?”

It took another swipe at me. Fuck…this thing is strong, almost knocked the chair out of my hands. It was hurt, even it was just by itself. When I met its gaze I could see such sadness. Rage and sadness. I got you.

“Hey. Listen, I am here for you, okay? I am here for you. Not Death, not these people in the corner, you and just you. Fuck any reward…fuck anything else okay. Just me and you here. I am your friend. No one touches you unless they step over my literal dead body, which isn’t even HERE so they are screwed trying to find it. You don’t deserve this, what ever this is. So talk to me. Let me help you, that is all I want right now.”

That caused the creature to pause and look at me. Tears welling up in its eyes. I see why I was called. Most people wouldn’t look in its eyes, they couldn’t see the pain there. They’d see the twisted muscle, the claws…they’d be hostile. Monsters were fantasy for me until I was brought here.

“I…they…momma…MOMMA!”

It cried and looked around panicked. This is a child. THIS IS A CHILD! Thank gods I didn’t hit it, and now I know why the dad voice caused it to pause. I wonder if these souls were trying to help before or where they just trying to leave after they died? Hard to say.

“Hey kid…calm down. Shhhh I got you okay. You want to see your Mom once more. We got you okay. Did they take you and here away at the same time?”

The kid seemed calmer now, just tears streaming from its eyes. They nodded and seemed to wrap their twisted arms around themselves, rocking a little bit. Certainly a kid. I sighed for a moment.

“Would you like a hug? I can give you a hug if you’d allow. Sometimes its nice to just get grounded. I’m a dad, so I can only imagine how it is being separated from your mom. I give the best hugs too, I’m like a teddy bear.”

That is why my daughter said when she was younger anyway. Daddy bear hugs. The child looked to me hesitantly and then nodded slowly. I got up from the chair and I moved slowly. I had no weapons, I’m a big dude but people say they aren’t scared of me. I like to think I’m not scary normally anyway. When I got close enough I just wrapped my arms around them. Sure some of their spikes went into my skin, hurt like a bitch too, the blood smelled terrible as well…still though. Sometimes a hug is what the doctor called for. The kid just started to cry. Its massive head put on my shoulder and nestled into the crook of my neck like my daughter did plenty of times when she was little. I felt they shift, the sound of…gods I don’t know, snapping bone and such was heard all around. I just closed my eyes and held the kid for as long as they squeezed me back.

Soon, I was holding a five year old boy who was finally calming down from all the crying. The holes from the wounds and claws were still there on my body but he looked alright. Oddly I wasn’t bleeding…wonder if that was Death’s doing? Or do I not bleed if I’m not solid? Too many questions I’ll leave for another day.

“Can you take us to his mom?”

Death just nodded as I held the kid in my arms. We left the morgue and went to a hospital room where the kids mother was. She was alive, but badly hurt. Apparently there was a car accident, they got hit by a drunk driver. The kid was dead just after arriving. Freaked out when he couldn’t find his mom. I held him for a while.

“Momma will be okay?”

He asked me and I looked to Death who nodded with a touch of a shrug. I know, chaos on all that stuff, suddenly I was a little less reassured.

“She’ll be okay little one. Best thing you can do is let Death take you to the next world, be as happy as you can. Your mom will cross over eventually, and then you two can play. Just be happy and play as much as you can in the meantime okay?”

The little boy nodded and I set him down, he walked to his mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning to go hold hands with Death. Sudden I was back in front of my desk…wearing the scrubs top my coffee cup filled to my liking.

“Get dressed. Lunch is gonna be in an hour.”

I heard Death’s voice in my mind. I could only grinned. I was about to get my favorite sandwich on the planet, that alone was worth it. Still, I would have done it for free if there was nothing Death could give me. That kid needed the guidance. I wonder how many have crossed over and looked to reunite with someone but couldn’t due to held back rage and depression. That…that breaks my heart.

“Also thank you. You were certainly the best pick.”

I smiled at that, again…feeling useful was nice. Well time to get dressed, I wonder how Death will get me half-way across the country to that sandwich place? I don’t care…number 15 here I come.

[sir-fenris]

Couldn't read much of anything today, but this alone fed me with all whumperflies I needed to be happy.

Commentary time :D (a bit shorter, tho :(, had little time)

Kitty stepped forwardly slightly. It did something to him then, to hear her slip back into sweetness. The words had the same gentle tone that she’d used for him when they’d first dredged him up out of the water. When he was scared.

Kitty caretaking mode <333 🥰

It was mostly adrenaline that moved him then;  his heart was beating too quickly for him to make sense of it. But in the next second, he’d zeroed in on the psychic.

Ooohh, I wondered what would make him step in. It feels so organic and smooth :DDD

Protective Delta :D 🥰

The pulse knocked her back into the wall. It didn’t hurt — he knew exactly how to make it hurt and he didn’t — but it had shocked her. He caught her wrist, pinning it there. The hands were conduits. Though it was still possible to use their powers without moving an inch, the immobility gave the impression of helplessness. That’d be enough for now.

✨️YEESS✨️ Love seeing Delta use his powers >ᴗ<

But...

His coldness and precision on how to do this is so... wow.

“You do not use your powers without permission.” His voice was low, more venomous than he meant it to be. “That is the first thing they teach you and there is no excuse for having forgotten it.”

OH MY GOD Delta using whumper mode I'm dying this is so cool

Delta is not a whumper <3, but he clocks the exact words so easily (of course, he's heard them his entire life). Love Delta being venomous :D, but poor girl :(

She shrank away from that. They were sensitive to scolding — every single one of them.

Whumperflies made me giggle.

“Listen to me. We are leaving. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. You’re not going to fight them. And you’re going to do as they ask. Do you understand?”

I don't even know anymore if this is whumperflies, shock or fangirling. But whatever it is, I love it.

Delta speaking like Martino 😞 (🥰)

It was an acceptable surrender. He released her wrist, but not before wrenching it in the same direction that the others were waiting. He pointed.

“Go.”

AAAAAAAAJDJDJDJjfnfmgngR

There were little indentations in her skin where his claws had been.

DELTAAAAA 😨

He’d cowed her. Delta sat there for a second, alight in the afterglow of cruelty. It hadn’t felt good, but alarmingly enough, it had felt natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d learned from the best, after all. 

The thought made him sick.

He really did learn from the "best", makes sense he knows the words, the tone to use, the exact way to get another whumpee to do as needed.

But fuck, it's still incredible that he fills that role so naturally. Makes sense too that he feels sick from it.

“She’ll be fine,” he exhaled. “Believe me, she’s more than used to it.”

“They really talked to you like that?” Kitty frowned.

Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Brat. Don’t you ever-

Hey. HEY. Not fair with my heart.

It wasn’t sinking in all the way. He didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t believe how patient Kitty and Apollo had been with him in those early days. He’d never be grateful enough. He’d never be good like them, not really. All he could do was try.

Try as they might not to, mentee caretakers will very often compare themselves to mentor caretakers. You want to be as good as them, but each person does the caretaking differently.

Things could very easily have gone really badly if Delta had not done as he had done.

And the patience necessary to be as Kitty and Apollo is a really hard work. It's an ability that needs to be fed on daily, even when you're naturally empathetic and kind.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” he said softly. It sounded almost childlike now. But it was far from the first time he’d said it. “Even when I was being difficult. You were always nice.”

“You were never difficult!” Kitty gasped. “What are you talking about? You’re my favorite.”

That alone would’ve been enough to make him cry last year. Even now, he got close.

<33333

-

I'm really, really tired, so words are not wording for me right now XD, hope I expressed myself well with the pictures.

About the color bugging, I get you :'), Tumblr is so annoying with formatting sometimes. Usually, when I do something like that, I do one line at a time and go saving each time, so if it bugs, I can fix it easily without worrying about other lines bugging. But it's still an annoyance, I know. It's fine, it's just a detail <3

Loved the chapter, really really did <333 it was what I needed to feel a little better before sleeping. Thank you for posting it for us :D

Rubies - Encounter

the thing i just said i would write >:)

set later into rubies

(Content: living weapon whumpee, whumpee-turned-caretaker?, bad caretaker, multiple whumpees, verbal abuse, conditioning, blood, past trauma, comfort)

LEVON: I wish you’d told me you were tagging along! I would have given you a heads-up. DELTA: thats okay DELTA: it doesnt really bother me DELTA: its nothing i havent seen before LEVON: Yes I’m sure. LEVON: Nevertheless I thought you would appreciate the warning. DELTA: eh

LEVON: I notice this is becoming a bit of a pet project of yours. LEVON: I would have passed more information along to you if I’d known you were interested. In fact I considered doing so in the beginning. LEVON: I was worried you would feel tokenized by it. LEVON: Also to be perfectly honest with you I would prefer that you stay out of imperial territory. DELTA: i think i actually would have felt a bit tokenized by it in the beginning tbh that was probably a good call DELTA: its different if im doing it on my own time DELTA: im sorry i hope you dont think im ignoring your orders by coming here LEVON: They weren’t formal orders. DELTA: i know but still i dont want to come off as disrespectful for it DELTA: i do value your advice i dont mean to blow you off LEVON: Delta, it’s fine. DELTA: okay cool LEVON: It’s going well, then? DELTA: yeah there was only one of them and no one was expecting her to be here clearly DELTA: im not with her right now though im with kitty we are in the server room LEVON: Okay. I’m getting word that there are a few patrollers already orbiting close by, so I’d suggest you wrap it up quick. DELTA: yeah we are finishing up now LEVON: Be careful. DELTA: yessir LEVON: Goodbye. DELTA: bye captain

Kitty looped up another loose cable, one more fire hazard. Delta slipped the phone back into the pocket of his pants. His other hand extended to her to help her up to her feet.

From below, another loud crash.

“Sounds like it’s working.” Kitty’s eyes lit up.

They walk down the bloodstained steps. Most of the place had already been cleared out by the time they arrived. The two of them are almost never at any active sight. Third wave, maybe second wave, if anything. Kitty was IT. Delta did a little bit of everything now, but was too valuable as a psychic to ever endanger with capture.

He was only the second psychic to enter the manor. The first was downstairs, doing everything she could to destroy what was around her. As they descended back to the first floor, they saw the mess she had made of things.

“Get away,” she said, “Get away. Get away.”

The silver collar glistened around her neck. The same light shone just by her eyes, reflected from the tears that were forming there.

Infantry was the one to deal with her — they were being surprisingly gentle about it.

“Easy. Easy, I know you’re scared,” a sniper of all people promised her, both hands raised in a placating surrender. “Let’s all slow down. We won’t hurt you.”

“No!” she shouted back. She was crying in earnest now. 

“We’re going to get you help, okay? But we need to go now.”

“I don’t want to go! I can’t!” 

In that exact instant, Delta noticed that her collar was broken in places. It was malfunctioning. Her powers were slipping through the cracks.

“Get away from me!” Her voice was shrill, pitched with panic. “Stay back or I’ll - I’ll-“

As she said it, a little halo of crystals was forming in a blaze right by her head. It was a crown of glass. In the space above her, the shards appeared out of thin air.

Kitty stepped forwardly slightly. It did something to him then, to hear her slip back into sweetness. The words had the same gentle tone that she’d used for him when they’d first dredged him up out of the water. When he was scared.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. We want to help, okay? Just wanna help.”

“Leave me alone!” the girl yelled back. In the same instant, her right hand cut an arc through the air.

The glass flew like shrapnel. They were small pieces, but hard and razor sharp. She managed to pierce quite a few of them. But what Delta saw most precisely was the shard that flew only inches from Kitty’s face. Just barely missing her.

It was mostly adrenaline that moved him then;  his heart was beating too quickly for him to make sense of it. But in the next second, he’d zeroed in on the psychic.

The pulse knocked her back into the wall. It didn’t hurt — he knew exactly how to make it hurt and he didn’t — but it had shocked her. He caught her wrist, pinning it there. The hands were conduits. Though it was still possible to use their powers without moving an inch, the immobility gave the impression of helplessness. That’d be enough for now.

“Stop.”

She went still, but there was tension rigged in every inch of her body.

“You do not use your powers without permission.” His voice was low, more venomous than he meant it to be. “That is the first thing they teach you and there is no excuse for having forgotten it.”

She shrank away from that. They were sensitive to scolding — every single one of them.

“Sorry,” she whispered. She flexed her fingers where they were held. Little shards of glass were still raining softly from the ceiling.

“Listen to me. We are leaving. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. You’re not going to fight them. And you’re going to do as they ask. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You do? You’re going to behave yourself? Because you can just as easily leave here in chains if you don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” she swallowed. She refused to look at him.

It was an acceptable surrender. He released her wrist, but not before wrenching it in the same direction that the others were waiting. He pointed.

“Go.”

She went obediently. One of the medics hovered their hands by her shoulder, not quite touching, but guiding her over to the exit.

There were little indentations in her skin where his claws had been.

He’d cowed her. Delta sat there for a second, alight in the afterglow of cruelty. It hadn’t felt good, but alarmingly enough, it had felt natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d learned from the best, after all. 

The thought made him sick.

Kitty was staring at him. A couple of them were. He knew before he even turned around. 

Sorry you had to see that, he almost said. But that seemed a bit inadequate, all things considered. He said nothing instead. Already, he felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

He moved to her, side-stepping carefully around the littered glass. Kitty still looped her arm in through his own. She didn’t hate him for it, which would have been about the worst thing he could imagine. 

“That was kinda fucked up,” she whispered to him as soon as they’d climbed onto the carrier.

“Fucked up of me?” he asked.

“Yeah, a little fucked up of you!”

Delta nodded. He’d assumed that was what she meant.

“She’ll be fine,” he exhaled. “Believe me, she’s more than used to it.”

“They really talked to you like that?” Kitty frowned.

Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Brat. Don’t you ever-

Delta bit his lip, nodding. Used to it. He traced the skin around his collar with the tips of his fingers.

“I don’t care if she hates me,” he decided. “As long as she’s out. Of all the things she has to get over, she’ll barely remember this one.”

Something about that didn’t sit right, though. 

~

Worse than cruelty was unpredictability. He worried about playing the same games that Simon had — pulling rank one second and coddling the next. It was a mean thing to do. He thought it’d be better if he just never saw her again. The ones looking out for her now could teach her in their own time. He wouldn’t further disrupt their signals.

This resolution, once he came to it, barely lasted the length of an hour.

“Can I see her?” he peeked into the quarters where they kept her.

The girl sat idly on the edge of the bed, both hands folded in her lap just the way she’d been trained to. Her hair had come undone — and now furled into spirals at the base of her neck. She’d gone dead-eyed. That was exactly how they wanted them.

She still startled when he entered. 

“Sorry,” she said without hesitation, with no conscious effort. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He used to think he was good at apologizing, after a lifetime spent groveling for forgiveness. It had been such a difficult day when he first realized that that wasn’t what anyone wanted from him anymore.

“Easy. Hey.” He raised both hands up slightly in surrender. “Not gonna hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re okay.”

The look she gave him in return suggested she did not — could not — believe him. Fair. She was less than one day out, after all. He didn’t even bother to correct her on the honorific. If she was anything like him, it would take years to undo the habit.

Her chest rose and fell without her eyes ever leaving him, like an animal backed into a corner. He moved slowly for her sake, lowering himself until he sat cross-legged on the Persian carpet.

He thought he was good at apologies once, before he knew what they were supposed to be. By now, he was good in earnest. He’d been a fast learner all his life — and pride was something he’d never been afforded.

“I’m sorry for speaking to you like that. It won’t happen again. No one here will ever speak to you like that. I only did it because we were short on time and we wanted to get you somewhere safe. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His hands moved nervously against his sleeves. He almost stopped them, before remembering he didn’t have to. When he looked up, she was still staring unblinking. Her jaw has loosened a bit.

No one had apologized to her in a very long time. She had no script to follow for it. So when she said something completely unrelated, it came as no real surprise:

“What are you going to do with me, sir?” 

There was something like betrayal in her voice. That hurt most of all.

“You’re like me,” she realized.

For some reason, this almost embarrassed him. In Galatea, his abilities are mostly rumors. Even the ones who knew for certain still assumed he was low-level. There were only a handful who knew the full extent of it. But for the most part, psychics recognized their own. 

“I came the same way,” he said softly. “This was a rescue. You haven’t been stolen. It’s okay if you don’t believe that right now. But you’re free. Only rule is that you can’t hurt anyone while you’re here — everyone follows that one, not just you.”

“I wouldn’t-“ she said hurriedly. “I wouldn’t, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, sir. Please.”

“It’s okay. You’re not going to be punished for it,” he said. “I’m not mad at you. No one is.”

Just scared, for a second. Scared of her, just like they’d been of him. The fear is what drove people crazy, what made them decide it was right to keep them in chains all his life. She was scared out of her mind, too. But no one ever cared about that.

“You’re safe,” he promised. “I know it doesn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel like it as first either — and I know I just made you feel unsafe. But it won’t happen again. No one will ever treat you like that again.”

“…Yes, sir,” she agreed, looking down at her own shoes. 

It wasn’t sinking in all the way. He didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t believe how patient Kitty and Apollo had been with him in those early days. He’d never be grateful enough. He’d never be good like them, not really. All he could do was try.

“Tell them if you need anything,” he suggested. “It’s not a trick question. They’ll get it for you if they can. And they won’t punish you for asking.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded.

Poor kid, he thought dimly. The thought surprised him. He’d never thought anything of it before, when he’d been in her position. It all just felt normal. The way he was meant to behave. It was only after years of living outside of it that he could see it for what it was.

He stood up wearily from his spot on the ground. She flinched a bit as he did, but he knew he shouldn’t take it personally.

“You can sleep too, by the way,” he reminded her. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. There was actual relief in her voice when she answered that time. She’d been waiting to hear it.

~

The first thing he did after closing the door was go to find Kitty. She’d been curled up by the bay windows when he finally spotted her. He climbed onto the cushion next to her. She was peering at him from over the edge of her laptop screen.

“All good?” she purred.

“She’ll be fine.” He nodded. As fine as any of them could be. He really did think that his own cruelty towards her would only scrape the surface of all that she would have to recover from. But that wasn’t an excuse.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” he said softly. It sounded almost childlike now. But it was far from the first time he’d said it. “Even when I was being difficult. You were always nice.”

“You were never difficult!” Kitty gasped. “What are you talking about? You’re my favorite.”

That alone would’ve been enough to make him cry last year. Even now, he got close.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter @sir-fenris

[slightlycomicobsessed]

why is killing nazis controversial. like. can not. like can we go to when beating the shit out of nazis was seen as morally and ethically okay.

[sciderman]

Sometimes i remember a comics moment i randomly came across somewhere, where Sam Wilson mentiones a musical and Steve Rodgers says he doesn't like musicals, to whitch Sam goes "Guess that means you really are straight" and even tho i don't care about Cap America or the Avengers, the moment stuck in me for that quote by Sam. And like....Sci, any ideas if straight men actually don't like musicals or is that bullshit?

actually i think i know more gay men who hate musicals than i know straight men who hate musicals. i've had a drag queen stop me point blank when i was about to sing a barbra streisand song, and i know so many gays who pointedly hate abba. so based on my experience i think the inverse is true. most of the straight men i know are kind of impartial about musicals, but gay men? hate.

my theory is that a lot of gay men don't want to fall into stereotypes, maybe. but thaaaaat's just a theory! a gay theory.

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[muttsona]

i am the poisoned blood running through my tired veins

[krysmcscience]

Man, I can't believe I didn't wake up to this news in the form of a Supernatural meme :(

Seriously, though - if you have the ability to vote, go do it. And while you're at it, maybe bring someone along with you who might not have the means to go vote on their own.

Yes yes, I too am very sad and annoyed that Trump is not dead, I got all breathlessly excited and queued up "Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead" to be ready for a great announcement, and then I didn't even get to play it. It's a huge bummer.

However, step two of this huge bummer is NOT "Oh no and now his fandom will be EVEN MORE ANNOYING, we have basically already lost :((((" That is the devil speaking. Step two is to say "Ah heck, his fandom is going to be even more annoying, better FUCKING VOTE AND MAKE SURE EVERYONE I KNOW ALSO VOTES" Stop your worthless defeatism, stop your stupid pessimism, stop trying to GIVE UP AND SURRENDER just cause one weird thing happened.

GO VOTE, IDIOTS

[tonycries]

Dirty Lil’ Secrets!

Synopsis. They all have their habits in bed - some so filthy you can’t help but keep them your dirty little secret.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, size differences, bréeding, mating press, oral (female receiving), vibrators, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Choso’s side), praise, degradation, exhibitionism, fíngering, semi-public, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. This came to me while watching Pink Panther, I think I should watch Pink Panther more often.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Take it or he makes you

Now, Toji knows he’s got a big dick - huge, even. And to him it doesn’t make a difference - either you take his fat cock like the good lil’ slut you are, or he shoves it in your snug cunt and watches you gasp so deliciously around him, eyes watering, swollen lips dropping into a pretty little oh! 

“Ah- hngh daddy s’too big. I don’t think-”

“You will, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, leaning down till his breath is hot against your ear. “Because I’ll make it fit.”

Okay, maybe he lied - maybe it really does make a difference. Because right now, with you already so cockdrunk as he bullied his furiously leaking tip into your sloppy hole - Toji doesn’t think he’s ever been harder.

“Are- are you at least hngh- halfway in, daddy?” he hears you whimper. Cock twitching so animalistically inside you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation. 

Toji can’t help but huff out a laugh, brows furrowed, greedy gaze stuck on the obscene way your pretty lips struggle to take him in. Pussy spread open so shamefully for him, quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below. 

“Nope.” he hums, popping the p, reaching down to lick a long, languid stripe up the delicate tear streaming down your cheek.

God, he has to fight down some feral, animalistic part of him that wants to just plunge his throbbing cock into you till his heavy balls smack your ass. But no - not yet. What’s the fun if he can’t see you struggle a bit more?

Instead pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Each one has his prominent veins pulsing angrily against your walls, hitting that one spot just right. A maddening bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to. 

Stretching you to your limits. You could almost feel his achingly hard tip hitting your cervix already.

Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in. 

Feral grunts leave him at the way you moan breathlessly at each motion, scrambling to grab onto the headboard, the sheets, him - just anything to ground you to your sanity as you’re split apart on his achingly hard cock.

Ah, how he loved this little song and dance. A few tears, a few whines - his lil’ slut pretending like you couldn’t take it all - as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. He loves your cute lil’ mewls when you can’t decide between wanting to run away or milk the soul out of him. 

“Now now,” Toji tuts, looping two muscled arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising. 

You let out a delirious squeal as he pulls you down down down - onto his thick cock. Plush walls taking him in greedily inch by fucking inch. Hungry for more.

He knew his pretty girl could do it - you always do. 

“Don’t think you can run away from me, doll.” he groans over your pathetic little yelps of “Ah! Too- too big, daddy! Gonna break-”

“Then break f’me.”

And with that, Toji’s had enough of playing nice - ramming in the rest of his length in one, harsh thrust. Not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt. 

A low hiss leaves him as his abs rub your skin, twitching balls finally smacking against your ass. Finally taking all of him.

Finally bottoming out. Ah, this is what he’s wanted for s’long - teasing himself just as much as you.

“Oh! Oh my- ah, fuck. Want it- need it s’bad. Please- ngh-” you mewl, hips bucking wildly. Too cock-drunk on the way the tufts hair at his toned pelvis scratch against your throbbing clit to even form proper sentences. God, you think you could almost cum just from the feeling of being so overwhelmingly full of him.

“Feel me in you, pretty girl?” he rumbles, low and dangerous. “Feel me right…” he trails a long finger in between the valley of your breasts. Featherlight touch dancing down, down, down to your navel, pressing hard onto your stomach, “...there.” 

You gasp at the pressure, breath catching in your throat at the dangerous smirk curling his lips as he begins to pull out inch by inch - agonizingly slow. Getting ready to fucking ruin you.  Because boy does it stroke his ego to see you absolutely wrecked by his huge cock, struggling to just take him - but this is where the real fun starts.

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The family man

Nanami’s a very steady man - he always has been.

A steady job, a steady schedule, a steady relationship with you. So, really, it makes sense that he wants a kid, or two - or four with the ways he’s got you folded in half beneath him. Legs thrown over his sculpted shoulders, thighs burning at the stretch as he bends down down down-

A mating press. Nanami Kento had you in a fucking mating press.

And it was very dangerously quickly becoming his favorite thing.

You weren’t sure what to expect with that off-hand comment about wanting kids, but it surely wasn’t for your loving husband to fucking rip your skirt off and bend you over the nearest flat surface, throbbing cock now buried in your dripping pussy.

That was a few days ago.

And now every night without fail, you have Nanami’s seed dripping down your legs, still-achingly hard erection buried in your poor cunt - you doubt you’ll make it out alive this time.

“K-Kento- Hah- hngh, I feel s’full- so-”

“Shhh, darling. One more. Jus’ one more, all you gotta do is take every drop.” he hums, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. Brows furrowed, sweat trickling down his temple, cock ramming into you at such a filthy pace. 

Warm - so warm with his seed. It jolted some carnal part of him - all the way down to his achingly hard cock - to know that he was the one doing this to you. That was his cum filling your pretty pussy. And everyone else would know.

God, you can do nothing but sit there and take it as Nanami edges you closer and closer to your nth orgasm tonight. Thumb drawing rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit that match the merciless pace of his hips. 

Over and over. A quick, maddening tempo he was losing his mind to.

Desperate, so desperate to get you off. 

“Gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with need, mind hazy. “Gonna be so round and pretty with my kid, right, darling?” 

You nod eagerly, as he increases his pace impossibly. Your skin stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your kiss-bitten lips each time his hips hit yours. 

Drool drips delicately down the corner of your mouth at how animalistically he was fucking you. None of that familiar tenderness - only the pure, filthy desire to breed your pretty lil’ cunt full. All his. 

“You can dress ‘em up, and I’ll take ‘em to school.” he rambles, as half-delirious as you at this point. Drunk off of you and your cunt and you. “And when we’re all alone…” he trails off dangerously. Ripping his gaze from the creamy, white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “I’ll fuck another one into you.”

“Ah! Yes yes yes, please. Cum in me baby, fill me up.” 

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was Nanami painting your plushy walls with his seed, you can’t even tell at this point, too exhausted and cock-drunk. All you can feel is Nanami twitching inside you before he’s shooting thick hot spurts of his cum. Again. And again. 

“Oh- Kento, t’much. There’s so much.” you moan softly, words slurring together. Sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so deliciously overfilled as Nanami’s cum trickles out of you, forming a wet, sinful pool on the sheets below. 

“Feel it inside you, darling?” he doesn’t stop thrusting - rough, mindless movements from some deep-rooted, primal little part of him. Stuffing you deeper and deeper with his cum. Fully intent on filling you up until he was shooting blanks - or until he physically couldn’t. Whichever comes last.

Fucked-out little yelps leave you with wreckless abandon, mixing with the creaking of the bed at Nanami starts up yet another unforgiving pace, “Yes- Ah! I feel it, Kento. Feel it s’deep inside me.” “Mhm?” he purrs, teeth grazing your earlobe. Darkened eyes glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cum gushes out of you. Seeping into your skin, smearing on his abs - and his rock-hard cock. “Then, better be ready for one more, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The sweet-talker

If someone saw the ever-graceful Geto Suguru right now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes - and definitely not their ears. Such beautiful words coming out of such a beautiful mouth, but his actions were anything but. 

And it doesn’t even matter the place, he’ll come up right beside you and whisper a few seemingly harmless words. “I really love that skirt on you, angel. Is this the one I bought?” he’d say to you at the convenience store, smiling sweetly at the old woman in front of him that sighs about “young love.”

Little did anyone know that right at that moment, the innocent hand in his pocket fiddles with that little plastic remote. The one he bought specifically to make you lose your sanity.

Intensity setting 2.

“B-baby?” you whimper, breath hitching as you feel the bullet vibrator shoved inside your dripping cunt start to turn up a notch - tiny, methodical vibrations against your snug walls. 

“Yes, my angel?” 

You could almost smack the innocent grin off his devastatingly handsome face. Geto Suguru could win an Oscar for how good he was at acting like he didn’t have a firm grip on your vibrator control. Thumb running harsh, quick little circles on the intensity.

“Nothing.” you grit your teeth, nails digging into his sculpted arm as you hold onto him for support. The little bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt maddening against your cunt. Praying that no one else here could see your dazed eyes and the way your thighs were quivering desperately. God, could this queue get any longer?

You almost miss the wrinkled hand waving in front of your face, the good-natured voice in front of you asking, “You alright, dearie? You look a bit under the weather.” 

Intensity setting 3.

“I-I’m-” you choke, looking up at Geto for support. In perhaps a miraculous act of kindness, he peers down gently at the old lady. “Don’t worry, grandma. My love here has just been a bit sick today. M’taking her to the doctor after this, y’know. Isn’t that right, angel?”

Intensity setting 4.

Oh, not an act of kindness. Definitely not. 

Panties completely soaked now, pussy clenching desperately around the vibrator. You shoot a quick glare at Geto, who was urging you deceivingly lovingly to answer. God, you could almost hear the laughter inside his mind as you take a steadying breath, stuttering out a barely audible, “Y-yeah. Sick today.”

You couldn’t care less if the sigh of relief you let out is audible to everyone else in the store as the elderly woman turns away with a nod. Mind focused only on Geto and Intensity setting 4 and Geto-

“Aww, what’s wrong, angel? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” you hear that familiar faux concern from above you. “Which asshole do I need to beat up?”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt 

Gritting your teeth in order to not snap or just outright demand that Geto makes you cum right here, right now. Instead, managing out an unsteady little, “Turn it down.”

“What was that, angel?”

“Turn it down, I swear to-”

You’re cut off by hot breath against your ear, Geto’s voice hoarse with desire as he mutters, “Then cum. Right here.”

And as if to prove his point, he deftly runs his fingers along the intensity control once more, rubbing maddening little circles along it. Edging your climax and your sanity like the sadistic bastard he was. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt 

And you could tell by the faint smirk curling his lips that he was taunting you - torturing you to just break or break him. Whichever comes first.

Thighs trembling, knees weak, you shiver as you finally reach the counter, Geto’s thumb now firmly set on Intensity setting 4 as he speaks casually with the cashier. How dare he talk about the weather when you were reaching a breaking point here? 

Tears prick at your eyes - both at the pure overstimulation and the frustration of not being able to fucking cum. No matter how much you wanted to. 

“Angel, you don’t look too well. Want to sit down?”

You clench your jaw, trying to maintain some level of composure as Geto pays for your items. Every second feels like an eternity, every nerve ending screaming for release. 

You muster a weak nod even as you can feel your thighs quivering, blood roaring in your ears - you refuse to let him win. At least this time.

“C’mon now, let’s get you home and rested.” By the time Geto steers you to the exit, you’re practically begging for relief. His arm hot around your waist, your vision blurring at the edges. You’ve only made one step outside when-

Intensity setting 5.

You cum with a strangled yelp. Nails digging into Geto’s forearm hard - part in surprise and part revenge for all of that. His strong arm being the only thing grounding you - and the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the fucking ground.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and for a brief moment, all you can do is breathe, your eyes fluttering closed as your body shudders at the shockwaves of electricity. God, you almost think you see the pearly gates of heaven at the sheer intensity of your pleasure.

When you crack open your eyes again, you find Geto staring at you. Ah, an angel.

“Well, you should be thankful I went easy on you this time.”

Nevermind, it’s the devil incarnate.  Geto leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Hope you’re not feeling too ‘under the weather’, angel. Because I’ve got a plan in mind and we’re going to be doing something much more fun than going to the doctor."

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marked up and all his

Choso knew you were hot - it only bothered him that everyone else did too. 

Which is probably why you’ll often find him all but dragging you into the nearest bathroom at whatever party. Barely even locking the door before he’s got you pressed against the cold counter, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds. 

“Choso, baby~” you whine softly from where his furiously flushed head was kissing your dripping cunt, barely audible over the loud thumping of the music from the other side of the door. “More, deeper.”

And, well, whatever his sweetheart wants - she will get. Because he immediately presses in, plunging inch by fucking inch into your sloppy heaven. Veins dragging so maddeningly across your walls as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 

“This what you want? To be split apart on my cock, sweetheart?” He groans into the crook of your neck, your sweet moans going straight to his aching cock. Tongue flattening along the skin, licking long, languid stripes up your neck, he nibbles lightly - all part of his plan.

“Hah- Hngh, yes baby. Jus’ like that.” Enveloping himself in your warmth, thrusting in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Not even wanting to get himself off - just wanting, needing to feel your pretty pussy around his cock. To prove to himself that you were his.

But it wasn’t enough.

Mouth still relentlessly marking and biting your skin, Choso guides your legs to wrap around his toned waist - a signal to pull, to use him to your heart’s content.

“Fuck, Choso- Fucking me s’good.” Your legs tighten around him, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s all Choso ever wants. 

One hand deftly snakes it’s way down to your throbbing clit, rolling his thumb along the sensitive bud in just the way he knows will make you squeal and buck your hips onto his cock for more more more-

And the other - ah, yes, he can’t forget why he’s here - neat fingernails digging deep into your skin. Leaving pretty crescents in their wake - just below where your tight lil’ party dress hiked up. To show all those losers on the dance floor who you belong to.

Dragging. Marking. 

His mouth leaves their place from your neck to whisper against your lips, darkened eyes boring into yours, “You’re mine, y’know that?” 

You can do nothing but nod breathlessly into the heady air, hips bucking wildly underneath him as he increases his pace. Keening deliriously at the bruising grip on your hips and the even harder one on your poor cunt.

“Mine. All mine.” he grits out, twitching balls smacking your ass, rock-hard cock dipping in and out in and out in and-

“Those losers can’t fuck you the way I do, sweetheart.”

And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity running down your spine - and your nails raking down Choso’s. Red-hot patterns in their wake - and that’s exactly what sends him over the edge. “Ah- Shit shit shit, yes mark me till m’bloody yes-”

And maybe you do, because his throbbing cock twitches deeply in your pussy. Thrusting once, twice before he pumps thick, hot ropes into your fluttering walls. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. 

Two arms kneading your ass - wrapping bruisingly around your waist - touching any and every inch of skin he could reach. Leaving pretty little marks for days.

You can feel such a sinful, sticky mixture of his slick and your cum trailing down your legs as he fucks you both through your highs. Pooling at the cold counter, stomach now uncomfortably hot, vision blurry - yet you still manage to make out the satisfied grin on Choso’s face. 

Pure pride shining in his eyes as he takes in your fucked-out state, marks blossoming along your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves. 

Ah, success.

But he’s barely had time to bask in his victory till you murmur out a quick “Hold on.” Pulling him firmly by the collar of his t-shirt. Lips firmly slotting over the sensitive skin peaking out. 

Choso’s breath hitches as you bite and tease the skin - a pathetic little imitation of the absolute wreck he’d havoced on your skin - not pulling away until you’re satisfied with the dark, red mark blossoming on his milky skin. 

“There. Perfect.” you flash an almost-innocent grin at him. And despite all that transpired in this heady bathroom, this is what makes his knees weaken so desperately. Oh, how he loved being yours.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The show-off

If the King of Curses owns something nice and pretty, then you can bet he’s going to show it off to everyone and anyone that crosses him. It doesn’t matter if it’s human trash or some lowly curse he’s just about to kill, all of them have the same last sight - you.

You, sat so prettily on the hulking king’s lap. All doe-eyed and batting your lashes so innocently at him as he wielded chaos on his throne. 

It made them almost want to save you from this monster, only to realize - if Sukuna was feeling particularly generous that day - that he was the last thing that you needed saving from. 

Because if by some miracle, Sukuna was feeling generous - and decided that those scum that bow beneath him should see something pretty before they die - then they see you. Legs spread so shamefully on his lap, large arms the width of your head keeping them open for your guests.

Sukuna trails his rough fingers dangerously down your robe - one that does absolutely nothing to hide your curves or the heaving of your chest. Thin fabric tearing easily under his sharp fingernails, exposing such tantalizing flashes of skin as whoever’s watching gulps heavily in both fear and anticipation. 

He doesn’t stop till your robe is all but hanging off you now, dripping cunt soaking the tattered fabric as you keen desperately into his touch. 

“Shhh, my lil’ slut.” he murmurs, low and gravelly into your ear, hot breath sending jolts of electricity coursing through your veins. “Wouldn’t want to be rude in front of our guests, hm?”

Whoever’s bowing before you two don’t know what makes shivers run down their spine more - Sukuna’s dangerous words or the way you whine desperately. “But Sukuna~” grinding onto his very obvious erection as you do, “Wan’ you so badly, haven’t been filled by you today.”

Shit, scratch that. The scariest thing here was the deep chuckle that echoes across the throne room - the King of Curses laughing. Laughing. 

They watch in horror - unable to rip their eyes away - as he snakes down two large fingers to your dripping cunt, spreading open your swollen folds. Absolutely delighting in the way you flutter around nothing - his lil’ slut, so desperate for him. 

You buck readily into his hold as Sukuna bullies two large fingers into your snug cunt. Ready walls clenching down so sinfully at finally getting some of the friction you’d been aching for all day.

“Ohh, yes. Sukuna, finally. Wanted you in me s’bad.” you squeal as he curls his fingers deftly inside you, expertly grazing that familiar spot he knew would have you falling apart in a matter of a few seconds. 

“So spoiled.” Sukuna hums, a sly grin curling his lips - and the scum bowing before him completely forgotten - as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole. Thrusting in rough, jerky little movements that no matter how filthy and unrefined they seem - hold a dangerous, calculated intent as he hits that spot over and over.

The ones before you find their cocks hardening traitorously at your breathy whines and the lewd squelching sounds. Torn between training their eyes on the ground and greedily watching your thighs quiver on the monster’s lap, cunt dripping so obscenely onto his robe. 

“Look at her.” a sharp order jolts them out of their reverie. Sukuna didn’t have to ask, he knew you were a heavenly vision in his little hell. Yet, he continues anyway, amusement spiking at the way they can do nothing but gape at what they can never have “Look. So desperate f’me. Should I make her cum?”

“Nooo, Sukuna don’ be mean~” you whine half-deliriously at the silence that follows. Voice strangled at the merciless pace Sukuna had on your cunt, rolling your swollen clit on his fingers, dipping in and out in and out in and-

Sukuna chuckles darkly in your ear, over the protests of the trash at his feet, “Seems like they don’t want you to cum.” He increases his pace ruthlessly, over and over. Hitting that spot with reckless abandon, delighting in the way you writhe and convulse on his lap. “But s’alright, I’ll be the one to make you cum. Your king, hm?”

And make you cum he does. Adding three fingers into your tight cunt now, thrusting in and out at a pace that has you bowing into his hulking body. Over and over. Hurried. Hasty. Almost torturous for those watching.

“Ah! Yes yes yes, Sukuna~ M’gonna-” you can barely finish the sentence before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, broken moans of Sukuna’s name leaving your swollen lips. He doesn’t stop - not when your orgasm is mere tingles, your voice too raw to even let out fucked-out moans. Not even when you’re quivering and fidgeting on his laps.  Not even when he leans down to mutter in your ear, voice husky with pure need, “Now, how should I kill these fuckers off?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Just a lil’ taste

The great Gojo Satoru loves all things sweet, and that includes you. Not just you, but your pretty lips, your sweet cunt, and the sweetest - something else he’d never admit to anyone but you - the taste of him in you.

And right now - bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt, his heavy balls smacking your ass over and over as he rams into you hard, fast - Gojo knows there’s something for him to look forward to. 

The bed creaks in protest as he chases the heavenly feeling of your tight pussy around him, mixing with the filthy moans leaving your mouth.

He was probably going to get another noise complaint - good, let them nosy fuckers know how good he makes you feel.

“Ah! Hah- hngh, Toru filling me up s’good.” you mewl and buck your hips underneath him for more more more- wanting, needing the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. His glistening veins dragging along that one spot so deliciously, pulsing against your tight walls at an urgent, incessant rhythm. 

“Oh yeah?” he grunts. Cock pushing into you deeper and deeper, cervix kissing your tip so painfully good. “Like this? Like it when I fuck you like this? Can’t get enough of it, hm?”

Because of course, Gojo Satoru can’t stop running his mouth even when he’s fucking you relentlessly. Even when his thrusts grow frenzied, sloppy with desire. And especially not when you’re creaming on his achingly hard cock.

God, you’re so fucking perfect he can’t help but lose himself in the heat of the moment as well. 

Body arching off the bed, you see stars behind your eyes as Gojo cums in thick, hot spurts inside your fluttering walls. “Shit, oh Toru, s’full inside me hah-”

You think you probably cum harder just at the sight before you. 

Gojo’s head thrown back, blue eyes prettily rolling to the back of his head as he bites his lips in concentration - desperately trying to fight off that feral, animalistic part of himself that just wants to fuck his cum deeper and deeper inside your dripping cunt. Wrestling that urge to breed you full to the back of his mind. 

No, because he’s got bigger things in mind. 

Bigger things that include urgently dropping to his knees as soon as your breathless moans bate. He wrestles your hips on the mattress, grip bruising on your waist as he pulls your pretty cunt closer. All wet and painted white with his cum, dripping so obscenely onto the fresh sheets below.

Mouth dropping into a soft oh! at the sinful sight before him, Gojo doesn’t waste a second before surging forward. 

Nose-deep in your pussy, he doesn’t stop till he’s nose-deep and breathing you in so obscenely. Tongue bullying its way in between your swollen folds, dipping into your sloppy entrance in and out in and out in and out-

He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you. 

Sweet. 

The absolutely filthy mixture of his cum and your slick sliding down his tongue as he laps up your juices with the desperation of a madman. God, it makes the blood rush straight to his dick at the way your mouth drops open in disbelief - he never does get used to it.

Messy. It was so fucking messy. 

“Mmm, s’sweet on my tongue, baby.” he slurs, drunk off the absolutely intoxicating taste of your sin. “Fuck- Can’t get enough of it. Shit.” 

You flinch as he swears into your throbbing cunt. Seeing flashes of white behind your eyes each time he flicks his tongue just right to graze over all your most sensitive spots. You could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue.

And you probably do really cry when Gojo moves up your dripping pussy, sucking on your swollen clit. Rolling his tongue over and over at the same maddening pace of the tears down your cheeks. 

Absentmindedly, you wonder whether he’s done with his little feast - and moving on to torture you full time now.

Gojo huffs out a laugh into your cunt, popping off your abused clit with a lewd pop! Hands snaking down to grab his rock-hard base. Pulling in short, desperate little tugs to get himself ready for what was to come. “Yeah, m’done, baby.” he chuckles darkly. Shit, did you say that out loud? 

But you have no time to wonder too long about that, instead stuck on that dangerous little glint in his eyes as he stands from his position nose-deep in your cunt. Swiping his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you. 

Dazed, your eyes drift from his slick-glossed mouth down, down, down to-

Oh.

“Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna be feasting again real soon.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.