#that I cannot explain easily but yeah

[selsieeeo]

Hi have a poorly made animatic of Silver with the song ‘The Next Right Thing’ with my What it thought of what if in chapter 7, silver wakes up and is conflicted on what to do since everyone’s asleep or smth and goes to confront OB malleus, the storyline in my head is a mess but I wanted to draw angst

[sheepwithspecs]

video: Mr. Rochester has a wife yet living!

me, who owns this adaptation of Jane Eyre on DVD and has seen it countless times: oh my GOD he has a wife yet living?!!??!?!

[aroace-poly-show]

“is that you laughing”

*currently in agony over fictional guys*

“yeah :)”

[punkitt-is-here]

Hi, I'm genuinely looking for an explanation here and not looking for an argument /srs

Can you explain how calling a transfem a TERF for spreading ideology that I genuinely assumed was included in the definition of TERFism is othering ? Not to be that guy, but I'm autistic and I'm having a very hard time connecting the points you're making, and I genuinely want to learn and understand what you're saying /gen

Again, I do hope this doesn't come off as hostile, I am genuinely trying to learn and understand better, and I want to be able to fix misconceptions about what a TERF is in my own mind, and I haven't seen anyone bring this point up before /gen

You absolutely do not have to answer this, but I hope you have a fabulous rest of your day, and I do apologize for what I said, as it wasn't necessary for me to comment on the situation.

Yeah totally! Okay, I got a lot of this from Ibram X. Kendi's "How to be Antiracist"* where he talks about describing "racist" as an identity means that hardly anyone is going to ever "identify" with it, even if they are a racist. It's much more helpful to talk about actions being racist or anti-racist. Someone committing racist acts speaks far more to the vulnerability of anyone to cause harm, rather than it being something ONLY reserved for someone with the identity of "racist". For example, Clarence Thomas, a black man, has done untold amounts of harm to the black population in the US. If we subscribe to the "oh, (X) can't be racist, they are (a minority)" train of thought, it means people are less likely to understand that Clarence Thomas commits racist acts. In the same way, describing yourself as an anti-racist is not enough, as it can let people be comfortable with racist actions because they think "oh, I'm an anti-racist, I can't commit acts of racial harm." That's why it's more helpful to describe acts as racist and anti-racist rather than framing them as identities.

In a similar way, describing someone as the label of "TERF" can have a similar effect. Because it's specifically a label centered around being anti-trans, transgender people of all kinds will easily assume they cannot be transphobic, because the label of TERF is ideologically opposed to their existence. It invites ridicule rather than introspection. By saying actions can be transphobic, I think it helps a lot more because it's easier to understand that trans people can be transphobic. For example, Blaire White is right there. Despite being a trans woman, she is actively doing transphobic acts. By calling out an action as transphobic rather than describing someone as a "TERF", it helps fight back against the idea that being trans means you cannot be transphobic. For a super duper simple example, I can step on my dogs tail, but it doesn't mean I hate dogs, it means I committed an act of harm against my dog. Describing me as a dog-hater when I LOVE dogs would invite ridicule more than it would a tendency to watch my step when my dog is in the house. I hope this makes sense!

*I'm not trying to say the Black and Trans experience is exactly the same, just that like any oppressed group, there is a lot of overlap in tactics and thinking, especially for people who are Black and Trans. Reading about other groups can really give you a ton of helpful insight on how to work within your own identity!

[kings-highway]

Ushijima's lefthandedness falls so easily into a metaphor for autism or neurodivergence that it's almost not worth explaining but I cannot help but feel that an eight year old Wakatoshi, overhearing his parents fighting about "correcting him" or "something being wrong with him" and his father making this his hill-to-die-on and literally giving up his vote in any future family matters (almost certainly leading to their eventual divorce) could only have interpreted this as an issue with his left hand, and maybe that was a pleasant and easy lie his father had encouraged, since telling him the truth (that his mother wanted to send him to some quack doctor insisting they could cure his autism, or send him away to a behaviour correction 'camp', or whatever traditional "fix" for autism they could find) was just too much for him to stomach. Ushijima probably wouldn't have questioned this narrative, repeats it back over and over and over again. He's sitting on the floor, colouring in his pictures as his father begs his mother to understand that "the things that make him different could be his greatest strength" and he just looks down at his left hand and goes "yeah, well, that is what's different about me" and never even thinks it could have been any worse than that.

[lumanossity]

mostly for the sillies, he’s done some questionable things and i built off of that

the port mafia is lead by an absolute maniac, backed by: two minor manmade gods (one (former god) is basemented until further notice), a rich guy who killed himself to prove his incorrect point, a guy who is technically their enemy and no longer in the organisation, and kouyou

[incorrectfatui]

Some random headcanons because I'm bored and I should really post more often.

Pierro: genuinely does not like the vast majority of the other Harbingers. He tries his best to get along with them but dear god half of them cannot shut the fuck up to save their life

Capitano: Likes hot cocoa and puts like a weird amount of effort into making them. Like you know those extremely long tiktok recepies for (Insert country name)-hot cocoa that take hours but taste the same as regular hot cocoa? Yeah, Capitano has made all of them at some point and he swears theres a difference

Dottore: addicted to sugar. Addicted to a lot of things, actually. Younger segments get sugar rush. Youngest segment is an ipad-kid. Gets distracted extremely easily. I have too many headcanons about this guy.

Columbina: can sleep ANYWHERE. Girl goes skydiving and sleeps in the sky. Rollercoaster? You mean a moving bed?

Arlecchino: bad at math no i wont explain myself. Tried making candy herself once and it went horribly wrong.

Clervie: scared of clowns. terrified even.

Crucabena: Likes playing rhythm games. Her children are reenacting the hungergames and she's in the background just playing pjsk or osu or smth. Also collects Pokemon cards, loves them more than her children. Very good at masking, but has autism (like every other harbinger). Nr. 1 enabler for the other Harbingers, but especially Dottore. Used to bite people as a child. Was, in general, the most feral child you can imagine. Dottore calls her Crucy and she despises it.

Pulcinella: hates hot temperatures. Cannot stand anything above 15° Celsius

Scaramouche: sometimes forgets that time is in fact passing. It's a result of his time in the Abyss, but also connected to his immortality. Speaking of which, he has no idea how old he actually is, he just knows he was created after the cataclysm.

Sandrone: goes nonverbal when overwhelmed. Also has a one-sided rivalry going with Dottore.

Signora: i have so many german-aunt headcanons about her - positives of having characters inspired by your culture i guess. Lots of my headcankns abt her are inspired by my own aunts lol. Can do tricks with a bottle of wine. Used to have a lil space where she raised chicken and other animals back in Mondstadt, but didn't keep them after Rostams death

Pantalone: weird relationship with dottore also translates into weird relationship with Scaramouche. Both of them have seen each other in..lets say compromising positions. They have a pact to never ever speak of it. Also very jealous of Scaramouche and Crucabena (despite the latter being dead) due to their relationships with Dottore. Extremely posessive.

Childe: has once thrown a snowball at Pierro. Was very lucky that no one figured out it was him. Somewhat scared of Dottore. No one ever told him which Harbinger joined when, so he doesnt know how old anyone is (minus Arlecchino)

[chocochipsushi]

𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐠

SFW

🌸Word count: 6.4k words

🌸AU: your soulmate is a huge, grumpy fart who shows you and only you affection, and though he hates his best friends, you think you've found soulmates in them too

🌸Pairing: Toji x reader, SatoSugu

<< Prequel | Part 2 >>

You always catch guys staring until Toji walks up to you with a hand on the small of your back. Then, the guys start to panic internally, looking away to avoid trouble with such a huge man. But their gazes will always return to watch the both of you. Everyone is always intrigued by your relationship. 

You’re the tiniest little thing next to Toji, just standing nestled at his side, your hand resting on his beefy arm, his rugged body pressed up against yours. You’re not even that small to begin with. But his body is so big, chiseled and intimidating, that you‘re like a doll next to him. He looks so much like a guard dog whenever you’re together, because of how he towers and hovers over you. 

“Can you help me get that, Toji?” 

He looks up to what you’re pointing at and immediately lets go of you to step closer to the shelf. “This one?” 

He easily reaches for the pair of scissors that is barely even touchable for you. He turns his head to see you grinning up at him as you bob your head. Toji grasps the package and brings it down to pass it to you. 

“Gojo needs a new one because he misplaced his,” you explain, taking it from him before wrapping your arm around his. 

“Shitty bar owner,” Toji mutters under his breath. 

You laugh as you go up to the counter to have it paid for. As you pass the scissors to the cashier, you look up at Toji and scold, “He is your best friend, Toji!”

Immediately your boyfriend pulls out his card from his back pocket to pay for the item. The cashier is watching the both of you quietly. Toji shrugs at your reminder. “So? What kind of bar owner can’t even keep a pair of fucking scissors?”

Once the payment goes through, he snatches the new pair of scissors out of the cashier’s hand. The poor boy is so terrified and surprised by Toji’s roughness that he is surprised when you thank him with a sweet smile, and start walking out of the line. The amazed cashier is watching you lead the way, and he cannot help making parallels to you walking your scary guard dog that only listens to you and no one else. 

The power you hold over such a huge and fearsome man could possibly make you easily twice as scary as Toji is. Because even the blind could tell that this crude and stoic man would do anything just to see you happy and safe. There is no other reason for the soft spark that ignites in his eyes every time your name is mentioned. 

“Where’s The Grump?” 

You hop up the bar stool and place the new pair of scissors on the counter. Grinning at Gojo, you answer, “Parking his bike. He’ll come.”

“Oh, damn, thought it was just you.” Gojo blows a raspberry as he snatches up the stationery. “I could really do without his stale attitude today.”

“Or ever,” his partner next to him chimes in. 

Gojo points at Geto with a nod and an eyebrow raise in your direction. “I feel so bad you got him as your soulmate.”

Geto stops mixing whatever drink he is making to give you a look. “How do you even live with such a cranky old fart like that? Seriously.”

You laugh. “He's not that bad.” When you see the both of them giving you the same exact look, you laugh even harder. “Really! He’s actually very nice.”

“Yeah, maybe to pretty girls,” Gojo scoffs. 

Geto makes a face and disagrees with his partner, “Actually… no. Have you seen the way he looks at girls that try to hit on him?”

Gojo thinks about it for a moment before he nods. “You got a point.” He looks at you. “So it’s just you that he's nice to. How does it feel to be God’s favourite?” 

You giggle. “Toji is not a god!”

Gojo stares at you for a moment, then turns to his soulmate. He wonders, “Oh, is he nice to her because she’s an airhead?”

“Hey!” You stand on the leg rest on your stool to reach over and snatch the new pair of scissors off his hand. You frown at him. “That’s mean! I’m not dumb!”

Geto leaves from behind the bar counter with the freshly made order and before he makes his way to the customer’s table, he pats your head and bumps your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Yes, you are, but in a cute way.”

“Yes, so cute,” Gojo coos, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Can I have my scissors back, my pretty baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” you huff, though you thrust the stationery in his direction anyway. 

He grins as he takes it from you, using the back of the scissors to tap the top of your head lightly before he retracts his hand. You’re huffing and complaining about the two bar owners bullying you while Satoru simply laughs endearingly at your grumbles. You are still frowning at him when you suddenly hear a commotion behind you, so you turn around, only to see your boyfriend standing next to Geto with their broad backs to you, looking at a spot in the corner, perplexed and frustrated. 

As if sensing your gaze, your soulmate turns around and spots you at the bar counter. Even from afar, you can see the way his eyes light up. He holds his arm out in your direction and makes a come-hither motion. So you jump off the stool and walk over to the two men. Suguru has now turned to watch you make your way over. 

“Geto slapped me on the back with the stupid tray and my keys flew in there. Pick it up for me, will you, baby?”

You immediately nod your head. Suguru and Toji are too broad and muscular to fit into a small space like this, and it is always your job whether at home or at the bar to squeeze into nooks and crannies to retrieve a lost item, just like how it is Toji’s responsibility to reach for anything that is out of your reach (which is usually things in the overhead cupboard). You’d once been so afraid of his size but now you’re comforted by it, and your dynamic that used to be a mystery and a worry to you now works so well that either of you wouldn’t know what to do without the other. 

Without another word, you get down on your knees and hands. You hear some rustling behind you and when you check, you see Geto pulling the apron from around his waist and Toji doffing his black leather jacket, the both of them holding their respective materials to conceal your behind since you are in a skirt. You look away and return to crawling closer to the tight space. You go lower and stretch your hand out into the darkness, at the same time sliding almost half your body into the cranny.  

You reach around for the bunch of keys and easily find it. You fish it out and sit on your heels, grinning up at Toji as you hold his keys out to him. He is only looking at you as he takes them from your hand, his free hand already reaching down to yank you up. Once you’re standing in front of him, Toji reaches behind you to pull down on your skirt and brush it down. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmurs before bending to brush the dirt off your knees, the side of his neck bared and close to your face. 

“Okay, move outta the way, I have more customers coming in,” Geto grumbles, staring up the stairs where some people are walking down to the underground bar. 

You grab Toji’s arm and pull him to the bar counter where you had been sitting. He helps you up on the stool and goes around the counter where Gojo is making some cocktails, to wet a piece of tissue. He returns and stands in front of you, wiping your hands and knees with the wet tissue. 

“Thank you, Toji,” you mumble, watching him take care of you. 

He simply shakes his head. He goes behind the bar counter again to bin the tissue and wash his hands. At that time, a couple of guys come over to stand next to you at the bar counter. Gojo has gone to the kitchen, so Toji decides to help out for a bit. He dries his hand and stands before them, placing his hands on the counter, his broad shoulders looking more intimidating than ever. 

“Yes?” he gruffs out. 

“Two whiskey sours,” one of the men orders. He turns to you and gives you a flirty smile. He orders again, “And a mojito for this beautiful lady, please.”

You are surprised. You take a quick glance at Toji, only to be even more surprised that he is already making the order. He is always so protective over you and hates when guys so much as turn their heads in your direction. 

Quickly, you turn back to the guys and decline the drink, “Oh, no, thank you but that’s okay!”

“No, please. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone with no man and no drink,” the other one of them chuckles. 

You look at Toji again, and though he is concentrating on mixing the drinks, you can clearly see the tick in his jaw. You swallow and shake your head. Smiling politely at the two men, you say, “Oh, no, I came with my boyfriend.”

“Well, he's gone, isn’t he? We can still be friends.”

Just then, Geto returns to man the counter and you see him glancing between you and the two men, then you hear him asking Toji to stop what he's doing. But Toji is quiet and somber as he simply shakes his head. Suguru looks at you and quirks an eyebrow, looking quite perplexed. He knows just how protective Toji can get when it comes to you. This reaction of his is totally new. 

“So what's your name?” the guys prod. 

You give an awkward chuckle. “I have a boyfriend,” you reiterate, hoping they get the hint. 

“We’ll leave when he gets here.”

“Yeah, and you can tell him that you got yourself the drink.”

You’re simply staring at the two men, speechless at how disrespectful and pushy they are, when two glasses are slammed on the counter in front of them. They jump a little and turn back to the bartender in annoyance, only to drop the arrogance when they see that it is Toji. 

“Two whiskey sours,” he grunts. He then gently places a cocktail, that is definitely not mojito, in front of you. 

“Hey, we asked for a mojito for her.”

Toji looks them dead in the eyes and spits out, “I know my girl more than you do, and she doesn’t drink mojitos. That’s $50 for the three drinks, card or cash?”

The two men’s eyes widen into the sizes of saucer plates. Their eyes flicker between Toji and you, and when Toji quirks his eyebrows at them, they pull out their card in a nanosecond and scurry off the moment the drinks are paid for. 

When they’re gone, Geto turns to Toji with his hip leaning against the counter and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks amused. “Wow. Toji Fushiguro is a changed man. No more punching men in the face whenever they speak to your little girlfriend?”

Toji washes his hands and dries them as he mutters, “I would have. Just figured since they wanted to pay for her drink, I’d just hold back.”

You giggle while Geto makes a face jokingly. “Stingy ass.”

Toji comes round to the front again where he sits next to you, bringing his chair close to you. He spreads his legs so that you’re between them, and rests his foot on the footrest of your stool, almost like he is protecting you. 

“Whiskey on the rocks,” he tells Geto, who is already pulling out the bottle of his favourite whiskey. Toji always gets the same thing. 

You take a sip of the cocktail in front of you and turn to your soulmate, who is already watching you. “Mm. Apple pie!” He nods his head, quiet with his eyes still on you. You beam at him. “Yummy!”

He still doesn’t say anything. He simply watches you for a few seconds before reaching a beefy hand out to cup your face. Before he even gets to stroke his thumb on your cheek, Geto slaps a coaster down on the counter in front of his best friend and places a full cup of whiskey on it. 

“Stop being gross,” is all he says. 

Gojo pushes through the door of the kitchen with two plates balanced on his palms. “Suguru, table 17 and 4, please.”

Geto is already taking the plates off him as he mumbles, “Got it.”

He goes off to bring the food to the tables so that it is just Gojo in front of you and Toji. He grins at you. “Wanna go to a party when we close tonight?”

You glance at Toji, who has dropped his hand from your face to pick up his drink. You turn back to his friend. “Sure. Whose place?”

“Shoko’s.”

Toji is out of his element. He hates socialising, especially at a party. People just drain his energy, even Satoru and Suguru are no exception. The only person he doesn't mind— or rather, wants to be together with all the time is you. But you are the opposite of him. Everything about the both of you are opposites. 

You enjoy being with people. You’re loud all the time, and you attract people like moths to a flame. You could be standing there minding your own business and yet still have someone approaching you. You’re just a people person and Toji is not. Which is why, Toji grabs onto your wrist when you start to drift a little too far from him. 

“Where are you going?” he questions quietly. Only you can sense the mild panic in his voice. 

You smile. “I was gonna go get us a drink.” You pat his hand that is still holding onto you. “Wait here, okay?”

His eyes dart around the place and as if a saviour has appeared, he quickly lets go of you and stands up to grab a hold of Gojo who had been walking away. Satoru stumbles back, surprised and confused. 

“Get us a drink on your way back, will ya,” Toji mutters. 

Satoru frowns at him. “I’m going to the bathroom, dickhead.”

“Stop by the drinks station on your way back and get us something, then.” 

“Why can’t you do it yourself?”

Deciding to end this bickering, you place a hand on each of their chest. The two men huff at each other before turning to you. You tell Toji first, “Let’s go get the drinks together, okay?” Then you turn to Gojo. “And you can come find us when you’re done.”

“What for—”

“She said come find us when you’re done,” Toji repeats in a grunt. 

Gojo turns to you wide-eyed like he is saying, “Did you see what he just did to me?” But you simply grin up at him and pat his chest before turning around and flouncing off in the direction of the drinks station. Toji follows behind you, but not without a flick to his ear by Gojo. 

“What do you want to drink?” you question when you’re standing in front of a whole bunch of different alcohol types. 

You’re reaching out for a cup when Toji interjects and pushes you away gently as he takes over your spot. You look up at him and he says, “I’ll mix you something. Just go to the fridge and get me a beer, will you, sweetheart?”

You do as he asked you to and when you’re back, he is pouring cranberry juice into your cup. You exchange your drinks once he is done with the concoction and you mix the liquid in your cup with your finger. You’re about to put it in your mouth to lick your finger clean, but your wrist is caught in Toji’s grasp. You look up at him, surprised and confused. But he simply brings your finger up to his mouth, where he sucks on your soaked digit. 

“Yep, you’re gonna like that,” he compliments his own drink mixing skill with a cocky eyebrow raise and a smirk. 

You immediately erupt in flames but you take a sip of your drink quietly. He is right, of course. Toji knows just how you like your drinks. He knows you too well. 

Toji takes a sip of his beer as he leans against the kitchen counter. Just then, Gojo and a bunch of his noisy friends come streaming through the kitchen door and head over to your group. The two bar owners have really good alcohol tolerance but you know that they’ve definitely drank a bit too much by how loud they’re being. You move closer to your boyfriend, somehow managing to stand between his legs and be engulfed in his body. 

“We’re going to the club. Wanna join?” 

You frown at Gojo as Toji takes a swig of his beer. “Now? We just got our drink,” you whine. 

“Chug it, then.” Suguru raises his brows at the man behind you. “You have a bodyguard to take care of you.”

You turn and look up at Toji, who simply stares back at you. He is not the most sociable person but if you wanted to socialise, he’d step out of his comfort zone for you. 

“I don’t know…” you mumble, turning back to your friends. “I’m not feeling it—”

“Oh, you’re a lightweight!” Satoru snarks. “Down that cup and you’ll be feeling it in a minute!”

“Drink, drink, drink!” 

Your friends start chanting and suddenly you’re pressured by a group of four to skull an entire cup of alcohol. You feel Toji standing straighter behind you, probably ready to snap at them for being a bad influence. Quickly, you instinctively down the drink and all your friends start cheering you on. 

“Baby!” Toji hisses. He snatches the cup out of your hand but you’ve already finished three-quarters of it. “We could have just gone home,” he groans. You simply stare up at him as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’re so stupid.” Your lips fall into a pout and he immediately softens the frown on his face. “Baby,” he sighs, this time concerned. 

A hand lands on your shoulder and you’re suddenly pulled away from Toji. “Oh, stop worrying, lover boy,” comes Satoru’s taunt. “We always take good care of our little baby, don’t we?” he coos as he leans down to press his cheek to yours, grinning annoyingly at your soulmate. 

You are having so much fun and you’re so glad you came. The club is packed, the music is good, and the energy is electric. You’re dancing and singing along to all your favourite songs with all your friends, the whole bunch of you loud and having the best times of your lives. 

Except for Toji. 

He is standing by the bar, keeping his eagle eyes on you so he doesn't lose sight of you, as he sips on his fourth glass of whisky. If you’re a lightweight, you’d best bet that your soulmate is the opposite. Someone has to be sober enough to take care of you. 

It isn’t about his sobriety either, actually. Being the soulmate to a young girl who is over 10 years younger than he is, Toji just finds it refreshing to see how much energy you have in your little body. He is way past the age to be drinking just to party but he doesn’t want to rob his soulmate of this time in your life where you can party all night long and still not suffer any consequences the next day. 

It is your third time being approached by a boy, trying to dance with you. But like what you’ve done with the previous two, you point to Toji, who tips his glass in your direction with a quirk of his eyebrow. And just like the previous two times, this boy is frightened by how intimidating your boyfriend is and immediately takes his leave. 

It’s been an hour and a half in the club, and you’re starting to feel partied out. Leaving your friend group, you squeeze your way out to find Toji, who meets you halfway, not wanting to have you alone in the club even for just a few seconds. You immediately hug his arm and lean against his warm body. 

“Ready to go home?” Toji shouts. 

You nod your head. So he downs his drink and leaves it at the bar counter before finding his way out of the club with you latched on him. When you’re out, Toji takes his arm away from you to doff his leather jacket and hold it open for you. You wear it and you’re suddenly drowning in the jacket. You go back to hugging Toji’s arm. He has just fished his phone out to book a ride home when someone ruffles your hair. 

Toji’s body stiffens and he looks up to glare at his possible victim when he notices Satoru grinning at the both of you. You rest your temple against Toji’s bicep as you look up at Gojo. 

“Where is Sugu?” you mumble. 

He throws his thumb over his shoulder. “Drunk.”

You rest your hand on Toji’s chest so you can tiptoe and take a look behind Gojo. While you’re watching Geto sitting on the pavement curb, head hung and propped up on his hands, Toji slips his arm out between the both of you to wrap around your body, pressing you to him. You circle an arm around his waist and rest your head on his chest. 

“Are you guys going home now?” 

You bob your head. “Tired,” you murmur.

Gojo groans as he glares at Toji like your boyfriend has offended him. He complains, “You’re so lucky your soulmate is half your size and easy to carry.”

Being the people pleaser that you are, you look up at Toji. “Oh, Toji! Why don’t you help—”

“No.”

You frown at him. “But why? You’re so strong.”

“Yeah, Toji. You’re so strong,” Satoru joins in, grinning. 

“Shut the fuck up,” your boyfriend grinds out as he sets a deadly glare on his good friend. “Stop acting like you’re so weak.”

Gojo, now dropping his mockery tone, runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “You know Suguru is heavier than he looks. He's going to be hard to move around.”

“Baby,” you try again. You’re always so nice to your friends. “Help Toru get Suguru home. Or they could come over—”

“No,” Toji snaps. 

You shut up, surprised at his tone. Hurt, you drop your hands away from Toji and take a step back, crossing your arms. But you know that you probably don't look intimidating at all, especially in your boyfriend’s huge jacket. 

“Princess, you’re drunk and I’m tired—” he tries to say as he reaches out for you. 

But you dodge his hand. “You’re so mean to your friends, Toji. I don't like it when you’re mean to them. And then you get mad at me.”

Toji’s gaze softens. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. You’re my priority. I want to take care of you.”

“But I’m fine!”

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine!” You stomp your foot. 

Toji rubs his face tiredly. He locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket in defeat. He stares at you. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to help Satoru!” you huff. 

Gojo, while you were squabbling before him, is just staring at you in admiration and awe. He has never seen Toji so docile and tame, and nice before. You have a chokehold on him and it is so apparent who holds the upper hand in the relationship. 

But Satoru suddenly feels cold and he just knows that Toji is glaring at him even before he turns to look at his best friend. Gojo smiles nervously. “Yes, Fushiguro?”

“You’re paying for the ride back home.”

You hold the door open for Toji and Satoru to lug in an unconscious Suguru, where they dump him on your couch. Satoru groans and Toji immediately leaves to go into your shared bedroom. You take off Toji’s jacket and hang it up, just in time for Toji to come back out to hand Gojo some extra blankets you don't use. Finally, the two men turn to you. 

“Are we good now?” Toji mutters. 

You bob your head meekly and he immediately goes into the bedroom. You look at Satoru, who gives you an encouraging look. 

“Thanks, doll. Think you should call it a night.”

You nod your head and rush into the room where you hear the water already running in the bathroom. You quickly undress and join Toji in the shower. You watch him clean himself up silently, entirely ignoring you when he would normally be all over you. 

“Toji?” you call weakly. He doesn’t answer you. You move forward to touch his torso as he rinses his hair. “Toji, can you wash my hair for me too?” you try. 

He opens his eyes and lands his steely gaze on you. The moment he sees the kicked puppy look on your face, he feels his heart softening. “C’mere,” he mutters. 

You’re excited at his invite, and you move to stand in front of him and turn your back to him. He takes the shower head and you tilt your head back so he can rinse your hair. Turning the water off, he starts lathering your hair with shampoo. In the silence, you feel even more nervous with this Toji. So you speak up. 

“Are you mad at me, Toji?” 

The question hangs in the air for a long while. Unable to take his silence anymore, you turn around so that you are facing him and his arms are stretched out to massage shampoo into your hair. Toji sees the small pout on your lips. He sighs. 

“I just don’t understand why you have to be so nice. You were drunk and tired, too. It just pisses me off that you don’t ever think for yourself first.”

“But Satoru needed help…”

“What do you think he did before he even knew you? He’s just fucking with us.”

“What do you mean?” You frown at him. He's just so mean sometimes. 

Toji stops massaging your scalp now and uses the remaining shampoo on his hands to wash his own hair. “I mean, he carried his fucking boyfriend home drunk plenty of times before. Might have taken him a while but he did it fine. He just makes use of you to get me to help him because he knows I would do anything you asked me to.”

You hear nothing but the last bit. You completely forget that you had thought he was mean. “Would you actually do anything I ask you to?” you murmur. 

Toji narrows suspicious eyes on you. “Within means.”

You throw your arms around him at once, smushing your cheek to his firm chest. He grunts in surprise, quickly resting his hand on your shoulder blade. “I’m sorry I got mad at you for being mean to Toru,” you mumble. 

Toji takes in a deep breath. “Yes, you should be.” You gasp and tilt your head up to pout at him. He has a cheeky glint in his eyes when he says, “You were going to get lucky in the morning but now you have two dumbasses in the living room.”

“What do you—” The innuendo behind his words finally hits you and your face glows red. “Princess fucked up?” you try to give him a cute pout. 

Toji only laughs, his scarred lips stretching wide. He cups your chin and leans in to peck you on your lips. “Princess fucked up,” he agrees. 

Despite Toji’s declaration last night, you still woke up lucky this morning. Not only because of Toji’s “Princess Treatment”, but also because Suguru and Satoru wanted to thank the both of you for letting them crash your place by cooking breakfast. Using the ingredients in your kitchen. 

“Steak? For breakfast?!” Toji shouts. 

Your soulmate buys at least 5kg worth of beef every week for his protein intake. It is expensive and he definitely would not be eating it as hangover food. 

You giggle as you go over to Suguru’s side, hugging him as he cooks up a ton of sunny side up eggs. Satoru and Toji are bickering in the background. Suguru places a hand on the top of your head and leans down to kiss your hair. 

“Thanks for getting Toji to help Satoru last night,” he murmurs. 

You look up at him with a beaming smile. “Thank you for staying friends with Toji.” 

He laughs and pats your head. “We stay only ‘cause of you, sweetheart. Now go prep the table. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

You do as he says, bringing out plates and cutlery for everyone. Before you even struggle with the weight of the ceramics, your boyfriend floats past you and picks them up instead. You follow after him like a duckling, standing there uselessly while he goes around the table to set up. When he’s done, Toji stands next to you as the both of you watch Gojo set glasses of water at the table. You stare up at Toji, who immediately looks down at you. 

“I’ve never had steak for breakfast before,” you admit innocently. 

Toji lets out a strangled groan and slumps over your body as he wraps his arms around you like you are his pillar of strength. “I fucking hate them, baby,” he confesses in a fake cry. 

It makes you laugh because if anyone could ever get Toji to be so dramatic, it would definitely be his best friends. It is a side of his you never get to see when it is just the two of you. 

You reach behind him and pat his back. “There, there, baby. We’ll buy more today.”

“No,” he says seriously now as he stands upright. You look up at him in surprise. “Satoru and Suguru are buying more today.”

Just then, the man with long, black hair walks towards the dining table with a plate piled with all the eggs you had in your fridge, all cooked perfectly. “We need to get groceries for our place anyway,” Suguru says. “We’ll buy yours too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru sings as he skips over and drags his chair out to plop down on it. “Double date!”

You move to sit next to him as you laugh, amused. “At the supermarket?” 

“Double date at the supermarket!” Satoru announces as he throws his arm around you the moment you get to the doors of the huge establishment. 

Toji rolls his eyes next to you. Suguru comes over now and holds a basket out to your boyfriend. But he rejects it and insists, “I’m going to need a cart.”

So you’re walking down the condiments aisle next to Toji while Suguru and Satoru are discussing about sauces they need for a recipe they are planning to try out for the bar. You slip your arms around one of Toji’s and walk close to him. He moves to rest his elbows on the cart handle so that he is almost at your same height even though he has to basically walk with a hunched back. 

As the both of you watch the two males in front of you squabbling about the qualities of brands, you briefly wonder, “Do you think we have soulmates for friends too?” 

Toji hums and shrugs a shoulder. “Why’d you ask that?”

You guys halt when Gojo and Geto stop for a condiment. You let go of Toji and turn to him. Returning to his full height, he gazes down at you. “If we do, I really hope Satoru and Suguru are our soulmates,” you sincerely say. 

Toji makes a face. “Those clowns?” You bob your head innocently. He turns to watch his two best friends throwing a sauce bottle back and forth as if it is a dynamite that might go off in the next minute. Toji finally turns back to you with an incredulously confused look. “Seriously? Those clowns?”

You reach out to thump his chest as you laugh. “I know you love them, Toji. You know, if we ever have kids, I want Toru and Suguru to be their godfathers.”

“Hell no, I’m not letting those idiots near my babies,” your soulmate immediately declares, shutting down all possible arguments as he turns to push the cart again. 

You follow after him and grab hold of his shirt. “You’re so mean to our childrens’ godfathers, Toji.”

He glares at you, which only makes you giggle. He pushes your hand away from clutching onto his shirt and you are offended for a second before he slips his palm against yours, his fingers sliding between yours. He pulls you closer until you are bumping against him. You stare up at him, wondering why he did that. 

“Should we ditch them?” he whispers as he eyes the two grumbling men. 

You giggle. “Who’s gonna pay for our groceries then?”

He groans and sets his eyes on you. “Ugh. You’re right. They’re—”

“Hey! Who wants some cake and ice cream?” Satoru shouts in your direction. Immediately, you grin and raise your hand eagerly. He smiles back happily. “Let’s buy ingredients and make a strawberry shortcake at the bar!”

“We’re making them?” you groan at the same time Toji almost yells, “We’re spending more time together?!”

You’re watching the three men across the kitchen island. You’re given the easiest job, which is to cut up the strawberries, so you have plenty of time to watch Toji whip a bowl of cream while Suguru helps to pour in sugar at intervals, as Satoru mixes the cake mixture. You think it’s so cute how they’re gossiping about a mutual friend one moment and then bickering the next because flour has flown everywhere. 

“Gojo!” Toji snaps as he stops mixing and looks down at his black shirt now dusted with flour. 

Satoru goes over to him and fakes gasp, “Oh my God, I’m sorry!” He then dips his finger into Toji’s bowl and scoops up a dollop of whipping cream. He puts it into his mouth and moans. “Mmm. Yummy!”

“Satoru!” Geto scolds with a disapproving look on his face. 

The white-haired man is making eye contact with an annoyed Toji who is glaring at him. He grins obnoxiously and lets his finger go for another dip. He then holds his finger out to his boyfriend. “It really is yummy.”

Despite the side glare that Suguru gives him, he still takes Satoru’s finger into his mouth and sucks on it. He flickers his eyes over to Toji, looking just a bit surprised. “Oh, it’s actually good.”

Your soulmate is just glaring at them and you just know that he is so close to blowing up. So you go over with a strawberry and dip it into the cream. You look up at Toji, who is squinting at you. You take a small bite from the side of the strawberry and let out a happy squeal. 

“Mm!” You hold out the rest of the strawberry to your boyfriend. “Try it, Toji.” 

He keeps glaring at you. So you bring the strawberry closer and bump his lip with the cream. He finally parts his lips and allows you to feed him.

You, Gojo, and Geto are standing there, staring up at the green-eyed man expectantly as he chews slowly, savouring the flavour. There is not a single hint from Toji if he enjoyed the whipped cream as much as we do. That is until he swallows and Satoru breaks the silence with a whisper, as if afraid to enrage a beast. 

“So…? How is it?”

Toji is silent for a moment. Then he mutters, “It’s not bad.”

Satoru and Suguru let out relieved breaths. Gojo rounds the island to bring over the remaining uncut strawberries. He dips a strawberry into the cream as he says, “I dunno why you’re always so grumpy. Fushiguro.”

Suguru follows suit in eating strawberries covered in whipped cream. He adds, “Yeah. Can’t you just let loose a little?”

Satoru is now eating his third strawberry. His mouth is still full when he mumbles, “You’re like an old man in a young man’s body.”

Suguru is on his second strawberry now, making sure the berry is completely covered in cream as he comments, “Though he’s not that young.”

You watch Toji’s face turning darker by the second. Especially when Satoru agrees, “True. The only thing young about him is his cute little girlfriend.” You blush when he winks at you. 

Toji decides that this is his final straw as he slams the mixing bowl down on the island and snaps, “I’m only four years older than the two of you, fuckwits!” As his two best friends gape at him in surprise at his outburst, he snatches Satoru’s fourth strawberry out of his hand and grunts, “And stop eating all the fucking cream if you’re gonna make a fucking cake. Dumbass.” 

Then, he holds the berry out to you. Shyly, you take it and thank him. He steps out from between Geto and Gojo to go over to stand by your side, brushing your hair back so it doesn't get in the way as you munch on the strawberry. Satoru and Suguru are observing the both of you, and you can see Satoru glaring at you. 

“You’re a bitch for stealing my best friend and pitting him against me,” he spits. But he is only eyeing at the strawberry in your hand. 

You laugh. “Toru, just give up on the cake and eat the strawberries with the cream. We can make the cake another time.”

The suggestion sparks a glint of hope in his bright blue eyes and he immediately grins at you. “You’re the smartest bimbo ever. I love you as much as Toji loves you.”

Toji blows a raspberry and rolls his eyes. But you smile back at him. “I love you as much as Toji loves you too, Toru!”

Your soulmate immediately mumbles, almost concerned because he knows how much you love his best friends, "That's not a lot, babe."

At the same, Suguru also dramatically laments, “Oh, if only hate was love and bimbos were smart.”

<< Prequel | Part 2 >>

-

© chocochipsushi 2024 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

[cowboydeers]

(just a long ramble about my thoughts/theories on Shadow Dragon Rook with a few dialogue spoilers from Shadow Dragon specific responses)

.

I love how Shadow Dragon Rook just casually strolls through Minrathous like they aren’t wanted for multiple offenses (theft, murder, and destruction of property among them—which means they’re wanted for even more offenses than those three named by the First Warden). Like, there is no way that not a single person has made a connection between Rook and [First Name] Mercar, the child of a military family.

Rook who watched Maevaris Tilani argue against slavery in the Magisterium at some point and easily named someone else that sells overpriced charms when talking to Elek for the first time. Rook “I know people in Minrathous who would help with that. Just say the word.” when Emmerich talked about getting the Venatori’s (former) slave to somewhere safe and finding out if he has any family in the first mission where you meet Emmerich. Rook who, if you choose the shadow dragon specific dialogue, automatically recognizes both Maevaris and Dorian.

Rook knows Minrathous, has connections in Minrathous that most likely extend past the shadow dragons due to their family being military. They were in the goddamn Magisterium at some point in order to witness Maevaris argue against slavery.

The Magisterium is literally the upper house of the Tevinter Imperial Senate. Rook was literally inside the Magisterium to watch Maevaris argue against slavery and probably witness other Magisters argue over other issues.

This just adds to my theory of Legion Charon Mercar (mentioned in “The Soporati” codex entry where it’s a letter from Maevaris to Dorian) being Rook’s adoptive father.

I suggest you call upon Legatus Charon Mercar when you next visit Ventus. I hear Mercar has privately expressed support for reform, but more importantly, he has the favor of the current Imperator.

Where the Imperator goes, Tevinter's military follows.

A Legatus, in the Roman army, was a high-ranking military officer, meaning this Charon Mercar is not only a high-ranking military officer but he also has the favor of the Imperator (meaning “commander” in Latin—what we would call a commander in-chief or a general today in modern times) of Tevinter’s military. It’s implied he has enough of a sway to convince what seems like the head of the goddamn Tevinter military on what to do, the Imperator seemingly valuing his opinion.

And honestly?

This theory makes SO much sense to me.

It would explain why Rook runs around Minrathous without getting arrested, why not a single soul pretends to recognize Rook.

Like, yeah, Rook can mention in a conversation with Tarquin (according to their race) that they were kept home a lot as a child if it’s obvious that they weren’t related to their family but you cannot tell me that not a single soul did not recognize Rook with how familiar they are with the city.

It would absolutely make sense for Rook to be the child of Legatus Mercar because why else would anyone turn the other way when it comes to Rook being wanted for multiple offenses? Why else would no one go to arrest Rook, even in Dock Town?

Because, after all, who wants to tell the man who has favor enough with the goddamn Imperator of the Tevinter military to potentially sway him and the military alongside him that they arrested his child.

[sweetracha]

~Smutty Thoughts~

{Chan}

Okay I cannot stop imagining Chan with sensitive reader. I'm talking about a single touch to the clit is enough to make reader cry out. Chan is very aware of the power he has over you with this but he also understands how overwhelming it can get for you. Sex easily tows the line between pleasure and pain.

"Fuck princess, do you understand how much daddy has missed you. Being away from you so long. Let daddy taste you, I've been craving it" Chan tosses you onto the bed, your body bouncing a bit at the recoil.

While his words were possessive and tipping into the dynamic, his touches were soft and gentle. He knew how sensitive you were after being apart for so long.

Chan pulled your sleep shorts and panties down in a fluid motion before settling on his knees by the bedside. Firm hands pulled you to the edge and rested your thighs over his broad shoulders.

He kisses around your cunt before diving in, slightly to tease, more so to warn your body about incoming touches.

His pillowly lips encompass your clit as his tounge lays short fat licks to it. A single finger outlines your entrance. Already the sensation is overwhelming and you beging to push against him.

"Shhh, babygirl. Daddy knows, it's so much isn't it" he coos as you nod with teary eyes. "Explain how it feels to daddy huh? Tell me how you feel"

"Go-good, I think. A lot, it's alot"

Chan lightens up his touches and opts for slower movements. A smirk graces his features as you moan out loud.

"That's better. Good girl, talking to daddy. Feel better baby. Oh yeah it does, fuck your cunt is answering for you isn't it."

Kisses and soft bites to your thigh distract you as Chan inserts a second finger and begins to stretch you out.

He stands up to remove his jeans. He places your hand on your clit, instructing you to keep going. He knows constant stimulation helps you the most. Once he is lined up, plenty of lube is used. He can't deny how he loves the squelch that leaves your pussy and how you both moan out once the tip is in.

When you are the most sensitive, Chan aways fucks facing you. He leans down and holds you in a hug, letting you claw his back and bite his shoulders as response. His hips drag out so you can feel every inch before being shoved back in.

"God I'm addicted to this pussy. So sensitive baby, such a good girl. Keep holding onto me, that's it. Your so close, daddy knows. Shhhh let it out, it's okay if you cry. I got you, I always got you"

Chan usually pulls out after helping you through your climate, opting to cum on your chest and tummy as to not overstimulate you more than necessary.

A bath and sweet words whispered to your sleepy mind are always a must afterwards

(Unedited)

[k-dokja]

johan x reader :3 for funsies

You wonder if you should chase him home... your boss probably won't like the fact you let your boyfriend loiter at the convenience store while you're working. Then again, you do remember the glare he gave your boss when the older man was going to reprimand you the other day...

At the back of your mind, you hope your part-time job will stick for more than a few months this time. Without Johan's intimidation, preferably.

"...Can you at least change into the uniform and pretend you work here?" You ask with a pacifying smile.

To your relief, Johan grunts before complying with your request, sauntering to the backroom to get a change of clothes. He is not the most personable one to have around, which is the reason behind his refusal to work here with you in the first place. Johan cannot fathom how you can stand on your feet all day and smile at the customers all the time.

For all his fault, however, at least, he goes out of his way to make your life easier whenever he can. You can find comfort in his care if nothing else.

As you daydream, a few customers enter the store. All male, some of them wear uniforms, but they're maybe a little bit older than you. "Welcome to [████]!" You greet them with a smile, raising your voice far louder than your normal one. In the beginning, it has been a strain for you to do that, but with practice, you've come to put on the customer service voice easily.

Some of them catch your eyes and you notice the telltale signs of interest gleaming in their eyes. You return their attention with an eye smile before diverting your attention away, not wanting to encourage anything unnecessary.

Supposedly, that's one of the reasons Johan doesn't enjoy these retail jobs. This reason is tailored for you, however. As it happens, you attract the attention of the other guys more often than not. You don't exactly know what it is that piques their interest... you never ask either, it'd probably be impolite to question...

"Hey."

You look up to see one of the guys have approached you. This one is taller than the rest. Athletic, you noted. His smile is friendly when he leans on the counter, "Do you go to school around here?"

"Hm?" You blink. "No."

You don't go to school at all if you have to be honest... but you don't owe a stranger that information.

"Ah, that explains why I've never seen you," he grins, "my name is Taesoo, and yours is—"

He glances down at the nametag on your shirt, but before the first syllable can escape his mouth, a familiar voice cuts in.

"None of your business."

In hindsight, the blue convenience store uniform deduces some of the intimidating points from Johan's overall appearance, but you have to admit, he has mastered the art of glaring. Maybe it's something about the perpetual frown he always has on his face. You can't tell.

The other boy flinches, but with his friends returning to the counter and backing him up, his confidence stabilizes again. "What are you, her boyfriend?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Johan crosses his arms, challenging the other boy to say something.

"...Whatever."

Thankfully, the situation diffuses without further complications. You breathe out a sigh of relief as you take the products his friends brought to the counter. As you check out their purchase, Johan maintains his glaring battle with the other boy until he's all the way out of your sight with the rest of his friends.

You jab at his sight once they leave, looking up at him with a pout when he glares down at you. "Don't offend the customers," you remind him gently, "it's bad performance to talk back."

"I don't even work here," he grumbles.

"If you're wearing the uniform then you are," you narrow your eyes to read his name tag, "shape up, Haneul."

The corner of his mouth twitches, "Fine, if I'm here I might as well help," he scratches the back of his head, "I'll go count inventory or something..."

You brighten up visibly, "If you do well, I'll speak to the manager about getting you a job here!"

"Pass."

Ah, well. It was worth a try.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Fully prepared for this to be a minority position but I am deeply emotionally invested in Paul and Chani not getting back together in Dune Messiah. Not just because I love angst and tragedy (I do) but because I don't think there's a way to do it without undermining the narrative and character arcs that Dune Part Two executed so well.

Paul and Chani's relationship in the Villeneuve films exists on a totally different foundation from what's in the books. It's a political love story and you simply cannot separate out the politics from the romance. Their connection starts with the politics and the love is built on top of that.

It's not just that they happen to fall in love while fighting together in an anti-colonial guerrilla war; that is why she falls in love with him. Because he is willing to take the same risks as her in fighting for her people's liberation. Not by trying to impose himself as a leader (at first) but side by side with her as comrades and equals. Let me fight beside you. That's all I'm asking. He is quite literally willing to put his body on the line for a struggle that's been with her all her life, that she cannot escape, but that he could walk away from if he chose. And in fact he proves himself to be an asset and not a liability in this struggle and they start winning. And yeah that shit's romantic as fuck!! Kudos to whoever on the writing team was like actually direct action solidarity is sexy af because they were right and they should say it! There clearly is some attraction or at least interest in Paul on Chani's part from fairly early on, but it's only after he's proven his political worth, in battle, that she allows herself to trust him on a personal level enough to begin a romantic relationship with him. (And it's only after Paul takes off the Atreides ring, the symbol of the fact that he came there to rule over her, that the narrative permits him to advance to this point.) They could have been comrades but not lovers, but never the other way around, because there's no other version of Paul that this Chani would have fallen in love with.

It's important that they meet in circumstances where Paul has no structural power over her. Chani never would have trusted the Paul who stood in the colonial palace and pledged to "honor" Stilgar by offering him hospitality on his own fucking planet. Because she would have known, just as Stilgar did, that such an offer of fellowship, no matter how genuine and well-intentioned, is not made on equal terms. It's only once Paul has been forcibly separated from his colonial privilege that they have even a chance to approach each other as human beings. (And, in a sort of dark irony, that violence becomes a bridge that connects them. That Paul is driven not by abstract power games among the Great Houses but by real grief and anger over the violent death of people he loves at the hands of the Harkonnens must surely be something Chani understands. And it builds a level of trust and empathy between them, that she doesn't have to explain the stakes of what they're fighting for. He knows it in his bones.)

It's not a coincidence that all their explicitly romantic moments are shot through with politics. Their first kiss is wrapped up in a conversation about what it means to be Fremen and I would very much like to be equal to you. (Yes, he's flirting his ass off with that line, but I do think he is sincere.) Their single post-coital scene has I'm no messiah, I'm a fedaykin of Sietch Tabr--not just a commitment to her people and her home but to her specific form of political struggle in which he is joining her. Throughout their whole relationship, the personal and the political are so interwoven as to be indistinguishable from one another.

This kind of commingling of emotional commitment to a person with political commitment to a culture/people/cause could have very easily slid into something tokenizing or fetishistic, but the writing manages to avoid that by sticking very strongly to a couple of guardrails. One, Chani is not some passive prize to be won, but an active agent of her own liberation, whether Paul is in the picture or not. She is the Fremen liberation struggle within the political allegory of the film; she is its voice and embodiment from the moment we meet her. On a character level, she is doing her thing and it's up to Paul to either follow or get out of the way. Even though we know he is afraid of her dying, he never once suggests she leave the front lines of armed struggle (can you imagine?) because that struggle is such a fundamental part of who she is and what he loves about her.

Two--and this one is important for what comes next--the narrative never trivializes the political side of their relationship in favor of the romantic. The second Paul reaches for any kind of power over the Fremen, over Chani, the trust between them is broken and the romance cannot continue. She might still love him as a person--you don't just turn that off--but she cannot be in love with him as the Lisan al-Gaib, fulfillment of a false prophecy she hates; as the Duke of Arrakis, her colonial overlord; or as the Emperor of the Known Universe, overlord of her overlord. As soon as he pulls that shit he is just another colonizer and she's done with him.

And like, kudos to the narrative for being absolutely uncompromising on that point! That's what makes both the political allegory and the personal tragedy hit so hard! Paul, bro, you fucked that one up good and now you are Experiencing a Consequence! I LOVE that in the end, love isn't enough. All the love in the world isn't enough to keep Chani from walking out at the end of the film, because the foundation that love is built on is broken and cannot be repaired.

(I do believe that by the time he is declaring himself Emperor, Paul thinks he has no choice, that this is the only way to save the people he loves from any number of worse fates. But that, too, is a betrayal, of a kind I don't think Paul fully understands. Because either you think the Fremen are capable of governing their own planet or you don't. Deciding unilaterally that having a "friendly" imperialist in power is the best you can hope for is a profound denial of the agency of the people Paul claims to be doing this in the name of. It's either paternalism or despair, and neither are acceptable modes of thinking for a serious revolutionary. Chani would tell you as much.)

The thing with making a bold writing choice like that is that...you cannot then walk it back in the next film with Chani choosing to forgive Paul or coming around to seeing the world his way and understanding that yes it's politically unsavory and he's manipulating the people he said he was in solidarity with but this was the only way! If you do that then the whole framework of what the first two films are trying to say about power and imperialism and resistance and solidarity collapses into incoherence. On a thematic level Dune Messiah is all about the consequences of Paul taking power the way he did and these are the consequences.

And on a character level...I just don't see any way to come back from such a deep betrayal. Even if some part of Chani still loves him. Even if she's pregnant with his child(ren). (We have like, zero information about how movie Chani feels about family and pregnancy and childrearing that would indicate that she would care one bit about her children's biological father being involved in their lives when he is otherwise busy being a space dictator.)

There are several categories of scenarios I can think of to get Paul and Chani interacting again (she goes back to him as a spy/assassin; she's brought back to the palace under some sort of duress, "for her safety" or even as a political prisoner) but none of them involve them being genuinely together as a couple. I could also see them not interacting at all for most of Dune Messiah. What I cannot see is any scenario in which she genuinely forgives him or ever fucking trusts him again. That shit is over and there's no getting it back.

[fettuccin-e]

A Kind of Demon

Kinktober Day 3: Monster AU

Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, Incubus!Din Djarin, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, Din has a demon dick lol, force sex? yeah pretty much, fingering, overstimulation, making up my own demon lore as I go (w/c: 1.7K)

A/N: SO I have never, ever written something like this so this was way way out of my comfort zone, but I wanted to try it out! I really like incubus!Din, so I might come back to him again, who knows. Din does have like "force powers" in this, but since it's not the Star Wars universe, it's just like demon magic lol. (I am using prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)

You should be terrified of the power he has over you. 

You’d hadn’t meant to summon someone like him, something other. He looks vaguely human, or is just human-shaped, but he’s covered in a dark, metallic armor that makes him seem more mythical than man. And the power he exudes cannot be explained as anything other than supernatural. 

He calls himself a Mandalorian, a word that seems made up, not of this world. It’s a type of demon, he tells you, his sentences controlled and short, the type that you’d summoned. A kind of incubus.

“I didn’t summon a fucking demon!” you yell, throwing object after object at him, anything you can find. They bounce off of his dark armor, and he stands stock still, unfeeling and utterly monstrous. He says your name in a way that has your knees buckling on the spot, from fear, of course. 

“I have been summoned to you, whether intentional, or unintentional. Your unconscious needs have brought me to you, and I cannot leave until my duty has been fulfilled.” His voice is clear and deep through the metal helmet shielding his face, and try as you might to peer into the dark visor, all you can see is nothingness.

“What does an incubus even do?” you shout, throwing your hands into the air. He chuckles in a truly demonic way, terrifying and somehow endlessly charming.

“Are you lonely, little one?” he said, stepping forward and looming over you like a fucking predator. You don’t answer, staring straight ahead into his armored chest, lips pursed. Why the fuck would he have to know that? Your, frankly terrible, sex life is none of his business.

His gloved hand reaches forward to nudge your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, even though you can’t see his eyes.

“All of these needs, trapped in your pretty little head, I can feel them. I can see them. Fantasizing in the dark night after night with your fingers in your pussy, desperate for someone to take care of you. I can see everything you want, and I can do it for you. I can take care of you, little one.” You swallow, harsh and painful, like sandpaper down your throat.

Your pussy soaks through your panties as he murmurs darkly into your ear. “You only need to say yes, girl, and I will make you feel so, so good.”

Your head swims, your knees weak and your body aching as you whisper a yes.

God, you should be terrified. Terrified of the way he takes control so easily. How, with only a touch, he makes your clothes vanish like nothing, leaving you bare to his invisible eyes. You should be scared for your life at the way you can feel his power all around you, touching every inch of your shaking body, pressing you backward to lay on your bed. Instead, your pussy leaks between your quaking thighs. A force, his force, you realize, invisible and yet so solid it might as well be his hands, strokes across your body, against your throbbing clit. A choked moan rips its way out of your throat. 

“That’s right girl, let me take care of you,” he murmurs, looming over you as he steps forward to kneel on the bed. “I can take any form you want, just tell me. Is there someone you desire?”

Oh. You’d hadn’t realized it was an option, for him to take the shape of someone else. He could be anything, you realized, a crush, a celebrity, even yourself. The realization makes you stock still, wracking your brain for someone, anyone. But looking up at him, with his dark visor and broad chest, God, you don’t want him to be anyone else. Just the sheer sight of him has you desperate enough.

“No,” you breathe, a little too eagerly. “No, this- this is fine.”

He pauses. All of him, his chest, his mouth, the force he has enveloping you. You both stare at each other, stock still and silent. And then, he moves. 

He’s got you turned over on your sheets in seconds, your face pressed into the mattress as he hikes your hips up. You clutch desperately at the sheets as he sinks two thick fingers into you, gloriously human but somehow not human at all. There’s no way he could be human when he finds that spot so deep inside, the spot that you can barely reach half the time, immediately.

“Holy- holy fucking shit, oh fuck,” you choke on your moans as he grinds the pads of his fingers into you, sending lightning ricocheting up your spine. Your hips twitch back into his hand without your permission, desperate for the kind of touch you haven’t experienced in so long.

“That’s it, girl, take what you need from me,” he growls, fucking his fingers into you at a pace that is truly obscene. His force surrounds you, a warmth that cannot be explained in earthly terms. It ghosts across your nipples, surrounding them and pulling on them in a way that brings tears to your eyes. It moves down and presses hard on your clit, flicking across it in a way that feels like a fucking tongue. You can’t hold back the way you scream.

He sinks another finger into you, stretching you out more than you have been in months, years. Maybe I have needed this, you think. Maybe I did summon him.

He leans over you, close enough that he is able to murmur directly into your ear, “Think you can take my cock, little one?”

The whine you let out is downright embarrassing. “Please.”

You glance behind yourself, to where the Mandalorian has his thick fingers buried deep in your cunt, to where he’s pulling out his cock with the other hand. That, for the first time, is distinctly inhuman. His cock is huge, so big that you have a brief thought about it splitting you in two, right down the middle. Rigid bumps run down his length, and the tip is thick, leaking, and oh shit, you want him in your mouth, you want him in your pussy, you want him fucking everywhere. 

“Fuck me,” you whine, and the demon chuckles. 

“Do you really think you can take me, girl?” He growls.

“I wanna try, oh please, please, I need it, ah-” he cuts off your whining by ripping his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and gaping. It doesn’t last very long before he notches the head of his cock against your entrance and pushes.

The stretch seems fucking endless. You can only clutch the pillows and sob as he breaks you apart on his thick cock, reaching so deep you swear you can feel him in your fucking lungs. It should hurt, God it should hurt, but his force only makes you relax as he pulls you back onto him. You feel dizzy with it, the way that force keeps licking maddeningly at your clit, pulling at your nipples while the biggest cock you’ve ever had settles deep inside.

You cum. Just from the way he sinks into you, fills you like you’ve always been empty, and you’ve only been missing him all your life. You writhe against the sheets, clutching at your pillow as you convulse around his cock. It’s debilitating, destructive, and all you can think of is how much you need more.

“It’s- oh fuck, it’s- I can’t,” you sob over your words, tears leaking down your cheeks, but you can’t help but press back into his body, trying to get him as deep as possible.

The demon snarls, using a thick hand to reach forward and grab your wrists together, pinning them to the small of your back. He pulls his hips back, slowly, so slow that you can feel every bump drag endlessly over your walls, before he drives back into you so hard the breath is knocked out of your lungs, the tip grinding deep into that spot he’s able to find so easily.

Then, the Mandalorian fucks you. No, fucking is too gentle. There is no earthly term to describe how he destroys you in a way that is so pure, so primal. He holds onto your wrists and drags you back onto his cock with every thrust, keeping you at his mercy while you can only moan and cry as he rips you apart into a million little pieces. You feel like a bitch in heat, getting fucked like that is all you’re meant to do. The demon uses you like a fucking toy, his force sucking at your abused little clit endlessly.

You can hear little grunts escaping his mouth with every thrust, tiny uh, uh, uhs that have your head spinning. You’re pretty sure you’re drooling, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when this man, this demon, is fucking you within an inch of your life, ruining you for anyone, anything else.

Your pussy makes obscene noises around him, echoing throughout the room as your headboard smacks hard against the wall. You can barely even make a noise anymore, overwhelmed sobs forcing their way out of your throat every time he reaches deep, deep into your body. 

“I can feel you clenching for me. Are you going to cum for me again?” He growls. “Go on then, little girl, make a mess of yourself.”

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you squeeze tight around his cock, your body trembling in his hold. He fucks you through it, prolonging it, and it’s too much, it’s too fucking much. Your vision blurs, your head light and fuzzy, and you can only gasp wetly as the world blinks into darkness.

As your eyes blink open again, you’re warm. Your sheets feel clean, smelling of lavender and chamomile, and your room is blissfully, astonishingly quiet. You sit up in bed, a twinge going through your arms, and you nearly scream as you look across the room to see the Mandalorian standing still in your doorway, unmoving.

“Are you alright, girl?” he says, like he hadn’t just ripped you apart in every way that matters.

“Uh,” you cross your arms over yourself, feeling strangely vulnerable. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

He nods, once. “Good. My duties have been fulfilled.” He doesn’t let you get a word in.

You blink, and the Mandalorian is gone.

[goddessofroyalty]

Something i really enjoy in your Zaun Family Au is the concept of physical touch. Let me explain.

I dont know if you did it on propous or not but it sounds like in Zaun touching, hugging, holding or just any other of physical touch is far more common and acceptable. Meanwhile in Piltover you have to be more protocolar. It reminds me of the historical romance novels i have read where you cannot just hug or touch your friend because its "impolite"

The idea:

Since Jayce is from a lower house he is more used to hug and touch people to show them his care. But since he started his studies he just cannot do it anymore. He feels like shit but is ashamed of saying it outloud.

Enter Viktor.

They touch, they hug, they are physical affectionate in a platonic way.

As he goes more and more to Zaun and befriends his family he feels better. He missed this.

A punch in the arm from Vi, Jinx climbing over him to show him something or maybe sitying in his lap while they check some equations, Vander patting his back. He loves this small moments.

The only time Silco patted his arm to congratulate him he almost cry.

This feels like family.

Bonus: Caitlyn is taken aback because she never experimented this level of physical contact before. Yes, she has Jayce but he is like a sibling. She just sagging in Vi's embrace, trembling and feeling so warm.

Zaun having a more touch-friendly culture is an accepted headcanon for me so while I'm not consciously thinking about including details reflecting it when writing the fact it it is just a part of worldbuilding means that it will be reflected in how I write characters.

But yeah I very much believe Zaun has a culture where casual touch is much more accepted than Piltover which has a lot more strict social rules generally.

The fun thing with Jayce and Viktor is that Viktor lived in Piltover for long enough that he's learned their social rules and so is pretty touch-adverse at least when he is in Piltover. Especially because he's Heimerdinger's assistant so is interacting a lot with the very Upper Class of Piltover. And yeah Jayce also learned the rules after starting at the Academy (and gaining the Kirramans as his sponsor) but he clearly struggles more with it (possiblly because he didn't expect to have to change his behaviour compared to Viktor who knew that he would have to adapt to fit in with Piltover).

Basically though Jayce starts the physical affection with Viktor. Cautiously and probably more in the socially-justifiable 'patting a bro on the arm' kind of way that he can easily pass off as a nothing-thing if Viktor reacts like he's uncomfortable like so many other people Jayce has interacted with since joining the Academy did. Except Viktor doesn't react negatively and starts touching Jayce in return, also similarly in the small gestures that can be easily excused if it gets a bad reaction. And then slowly slowly they get more and more bold in their touch, testing out to see if there's a line where the other will push away that never comes. Until they are just very physically affectiate with each other casually.

Viktor's siblings haven't had that much exposure to Piltover when Jayce is introduced to them (only starting to be brought up there by their parents after the explosion and start of the Hextech partnership) so there isn't even that testing period with them. There's also a lot less 'secret rules' when it comes to ineracting with them (or at least different ones to in Piltover) - they are very straight about what they think of Jayce both the good and the bad as well as being very comfortable with physical touch. And it's a breathe of fresh air to Jayce who is more and more dealing with people in Piltover who stand a meter away from him and pretend they like him even when they don't. Honestly how happily he responds to them even when they are being kind of mean to him is part of what endears him to Viktor's younger siblings so quickly. He's not stiff and stuckup like the other Piltites, will let Powder literally hang herself off him, and is a good sport about their teasing. There's still definitively moments where Vander nearly knocks him over because he did not expect how hard that man can hit even when he's just patting Jayce on the back but that's fine, he'd much rather that then them treating him like they'll catch something if they touch him. There's a reason he kind of seeks them out when there's big social events where the Zaun Representative brings his family with him - it's a momentary break from the Piltover Social Rules.

Caitlyn does not know what to do with Vi's family far more so than Jayce. She grew up entirely in the culture where touch is reserved for very limited situations. Even though she's so very touch-starved she doesn't know what to do when they do just sling an arm around her or bump into her in a silent request for her to move over so probably just goes very still at it. With Vi's it's a bit different because she and Vi are dating (or at least romantically interested in each other) and so yeah physical affection with her is easier even if she is amazed at how warm Vi's hugs are. It takes a bit for her to get used to the others though.

[admirationandromantics]

Painting Date

Another request, thank you for sending them!! I finally finished the prologue for the Chris story, so 1/12 parts done. Get ready.

Anyways, this is a little shorter than usual, because sometimes that just happens. This is an au where shit didn't go down, so enjoy <3

“Josh, get two glasses of water!” I shout to the kitchen, getting the last colours piped on the pallet. We were on Blackwood Mountain, a weekend getaway to relax and calm down, a way to disconnect from the bothers of the real world. The first day was painting. I brought a bunch of paint, a couple of canvases and some brushes. We sat up in front of the big windows of the lodge, looking out on the sublime mountain. We may not be master artists, but even they cannot do the landscape justice. Whatever it turned into, I would love it. Anyways, the most important thing was to destress, to merge into nothingness and build our relationship without interference. 

“Here we go” Josh exclaims, walking in with two cups, almost filled to the brim. I actually meant two cups each, but it’s too late to ask him about it now. He puts them on the table in front of us, kissing my head before sitting down beside me. 

“Damn, it’s beautiful outside” he says, eyes wide from the mesmerizing view. 

“Yeah, I know, we should come her more often” 

“We really should, shame about the snow though” 

I look out, seeing the white neat blanket covering trees and stone. It’s absolutely beautiful, whatever does he mean? The snow is untouched by both animals and humans, nature in its purest form. 

“It’s natural, untouched, what’s wrong?” 

“We could’ve at least made some snow angels, if you know what I mean” he answers teasingly. He’s turned to me, brow arched and a smirk plastered on his lips. I laugh at him, at his suggestive tone. How forward. 

“Get your head out of the clouds before the paint dries” 

“Doesn’t look dry to me” 

I comply, adding to the tension he’s building. My finger finds its way to the blue paint, taking a small amount before smearing it on his nose. His mouth opens in surprise, shocked by my challenge. I take it a step further, smiling as I tease him. 

“I guess you’re right, it isn’t dry” 

“You didn’t just do that” 

“I believe I did” 

He leans forward, and I do the same, meeting each other in the middle for a kiss. Lips collide, soft and hungry. His tongue licks my lower lip, begging for entrance. I let him, tongue roaming in my mouth as I deepen the kiss. My hand fares to his neck, pulling him closer. His wet nose graces over my skin, and I feel the paint stain my face. He’s adorable. 

He shifts, and I open my eyes to see his hand subtly coat itself in paint. He acts quick, hand shooting forward. Luckily, I notice, and pull back just in time. 

“Josh…” I try to calm him down, talking sense to get to an agreement. He stands up, walking towards me. I step back in response, mirroring the movement. 

“You so gonna get back” 

“No, Josh, it was just a little, that’s a lot” I explain, pointing down to his green-covered hand. He continues smiling, coming closer towards me. I take a leap, jumping over the sofa so we’re on opposite sides. He laughs at me, but keeps up his pace, walking around the furniture. I do the same, still being on opposite sides. 

“You think you’ll get away that easily?” 

“Well, you love me, you’ll let me off the hook in a couple of minutes” 

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really” I smile as I continue going round. He pulls a heavy chair on the other side, blocking the path I’ve been going three times already. Shit. He then starts running, making me yelp as I go the same route, trying to climb over the chair. 

I’m too slow, and he grabs hold of my waist with his clean hand as I squirm and shout. 

“I swear to God, Josh, I’m gonna kill you” 

His green hand comes closer, and I keep trying to get out of his grip. It doesn’t work. He’s caging me, arm strong as he holds me in place. 

“No, no, no!” 

His hand makes its way to my face, but I grab it with both my arms, holding him centimeters away. He’s strong, and I tilt my head upward as he makes contact with my throat, grabbing harshly. I choke a bit, air leaving as I try to kill a moan. His body is pressed up against my back, hand still around my waist to get me closer. He pushes more on my throat, causing my head to fall back on his shoulder, ear against his mouth. 

“Told you that you wouldn’t get away that easily” 

He kisses my ear, hand moving from my side up to my chest, groping. I let out a whine, feeling my heat pool as he continues touching me. Suddenly, he lets go, taking my hand with his clean one and dragging me back to the canvases. 

“What just happened?” I ask, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere. 

“Let's paint before it dries”

“Wait, you can’t do all that and just stop” 

“Yeah I can” 

“Asshole” 

He smirks, sitting down in front of the windows yet again. I do the same, taking a deep breath and feeling up my throat. The paint is dried, a green handmark showing exactly how he held me. 

“For once, it’s not red” he whispers, paintbrush already in hand as he starts painting. 

“Oh, just wait, I’m gonna get you back” 

“I’d love to see you try”

[sambot2000xp]

THE THREAD I HAVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING ON FOR A WHILE!!!

murderface’s autistic traits

because i see a lot of people talking about toki, skwisgaar, and nate’s autistic traits but never murderface.,,,

under the cut

one of the more obvious traits is his interest in war history and macabre things, which definitely seems like a special interest. it takes up his WHOLE ROOM, and the only time we see him taking a vacation is for a war reinactment. it is basically the only thing we see him have any interest in outside of dethklok and other music endeavors (which he does not seem to be that interested in even) he is genuinely PASSIONATE for history.

his gullibility is definitely overplayed for jokes but to me it reads as an extremely obvious autistic trait. for example , the firecracker scene. that scene just screams autistic to me. the way he just never realizes that he should STOP trusting them and keeps on bending down? yeah.

one of the less obvious things that I notice is his pickiness with foods. also a joke and definitely tied to extreme internalized homophobia, but it just seems like something that most neurotypical people would not go to the lengths to defend. yes I know that he does eat a hot dog in doublebookedklok but who says autism people cannot be hypocrites, I know I am lol. also just a headcanon of mine that he is sensitive to foods and sticks to foods he is comfortable with + knows well, seems to be pretty canon compliant too.

something i notice is how he does seem to understand some social norms, but not fully. and even the ones he does understand, he does not care to follow. for me as an autistic person that is something I heavily relate to. It is hard to follow the social norms you do understand when you have no reason to, and you have never had them explained to you. murderface was just treated as a problem kid his entire life so of course he just sticks with it instead of trying to work on his attitude.

kind of reaching but autistic people are more likely to experience depression and other mental illnesses, something that murderface definitely deals with. he also shows symptoms in less typical was, tied in with his anger issues. i think his anger issues could also be compared to how he was never taught to deal with his emotions, and also combine with autistic meltdowns of the sort. basically all of his issues just are worsened by his autistic traits.

SPELLING!!! i know this is just something that shows he is uneducated, which makes sense as he (in the shoe, NOT the comics) grew up in the south (probably in poverty) and never cared for school, but it also could have been heightened by his trouble learning new concepts. he very easily could have been pushed away by the fact that no one understood how to be patient with him and teach him in a way he understood, an experience lots of autistic people face.

the way murderface talks to people, he rarely knows how to act when he is not complaining or insulting people, which definitely ties into the lack of social skills. he also seems to not be able to tell when people are joking, or read emotional subtleties.

with how he tries to be a “gentleman” around ladies, it definitely shows how he does not know how to act outside of stereotypes and what he has been taught, almost like he is following a script.

HYGIENE. a big thing for autistic people. i know some people who are extreme near freaks and very very cautious with hygiene, as for me and others,,, not caring at all. i think it is obvious murderface falls into the second category, he does not CARE about hygiene and frankly, does not want to. we seen him showering in one scene so I think he is capable of doing self-care oriented things, but maybe it is hard for him to start, or he is uncomfortable with it in most occasions.

we???? Have never seen him wear pants? Like never. Even when wearing suits he has never worn pants. Definitely a sensory thing and NOT NORMAL?? just something subtle but texture in clothing is definitely a big thing with sensory issues.

headcanons

ahem ahem,,, we never see him in any shoes with shoelaces so I like to headcanon that he either never learned how to tie his shoes, or if he did, he is very bad at it and it takes him a while, so he is embarrassed to tie his shoes in front of anyone.

i also like to think he makes a lot of references to old TV shows (see my murderface agere post) and got a lot of his ideas of what “masculinity” is from those. i assume he shaped his worldview around fiction and what he learned from history, which resulted in a really warped perspective.

that is all for now!! i will probably add onto this later!! ^_^ byebye!