#this is meant to be a response and not an attack or anything

[duskdog]

The big defenses that I see from Jason Todd stans for this are these: 1. He didn't try to kill her by blowing up the school. I agree, actually -- I don't think he tried to kill her, I think he was sure she'd get clear (Mia herself suspects this and says as much)... but he still blew up a school for absolutely no good reason. 2. You guys are exaggerating the details. I don't believe we are, because it's a lot more nuanced than just "hero vs hero" -- if you're familiar with Mia's character, it should be obvious about why this attack was potentially more damaging to her than it might be to some other random hero. Regardless, the facts of what he did, without "exaggeration" or introspection into what any of this could have meant for Mia personally are bad enough to stand on their own merits: He kidnapped someone he has never even met before. It is a fact that he did this.

He took the time to research her origin -- which no reasonable person can deny includes some very sensitive topics such as sexual abuse, child trafficking, underage drug use, and HIV infection -- and then deliberately flaunted this information in her face. It is a fact that he did this. He attempted to convince her that her guardian wasn't like her and would never understand her. It is a fact that he did this. He fought her, including shooting at her, despite the fact that they didn't even know each other and she had never committed any wrong against him. It is a fact that he did this. He blew up her school, which not only disrupted her schooling, but the schooling of many other students, and caused a large amount of property damage. It is a fact that he did this. Mia was later shown to be troubled by this encounter, beyond anything she had previously shown for other "normal" fights. This is a fact that is expressed by Green Arrow, as well as shown on-panel where she lies alone and thoughtful, cuddling a soft toy. My point being, nobody has to "exaggerate" in order for any reasonable person to conclude that Jason was an unprovoked aggressor here, and that what he did was bad. "Oh he did that stuff, but it wasn't as bad as you say it was" isn't the winning argument that people seem to think it is. What, exactly, is the threshold for "bad enough" for a character to be held responsible for what they do? If you want to argue that Jason has changed since then? Sure, that's fair. But that has absolutely zero bearing on the things he did when he was like this. Taking responsibility for this attack would go a long way towards showing character growth, but we're unlikely to ever see that. Let your fave own his flaws and mistakes.

i really can’t get over the fact that at one point jason blew up a school because a teenage girl said no to being his partner

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 251

so like remember when i said i was gonna be mentally ill about utena

[stevethehairington]

really fucking sick and tired of people who really fucking love the eddie book jumping on people who don't like or are even remotely critical of it's posts and like crusading their opinions around from the top of their high horses and shoving it down our throats.

if you like the book, great! that's awesome! love that for you! i am genuinely glad that you were able to find good in it and enjoy it!!

but not everyone did, and not everyone is going to agree with you. so, instead of going on some grand crusade where you find every single post that includes anything even remotely negative or negative adjacent or even neutrally critical and spending ALL this time and effort trying to provide unwanted rebuttals to every single thing, maybe you should just stay in your lane and find people who DO like the book and chat about it with them.

because i can PROMISE YOU, none of us appreciate it when you come onto our posts and start accusing us of "hating on" the author or "being rude" about her and her work and RIDICULOUS shit like that.

being critical of something and pointing out it's flaws is NOT inherently hating on it. i, frankly, do not know where people got that notion, but it's not fucking true so can we fucking quit assuming it is? and, critiquing something is also NOT the same as saying this is shit and it sucks and the author is a piece of garbage. again, where the fuck that came from is beyond me. you can be critical of something and still enjoy it. as soooo many of you love to point out, it's not perfect, why should it be perfect? so D U H. of course that means criticism can and should arise???

also. hot take (by which i mean ice fucking cold because it's NOT a fucking hot take), but going around toting FALSE facts as part of your "defense" does not make you or your argument look good. you, like the author, should maybe do a basic fact check first. 🙃

tldr, if you like the book, that's genuinely great, but stay in your fucking lane and stop seeking out posts from people who didn't like it to start shit in the notes.

[psychotrenny]

The thing with 9/11 is that no one cares that much about the death and destruction itself. Buildings fall down and people die all the time, including in the US. Like at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic you had entire 9/11s worth of USamericans dying on a regular basis. If all that damage was caused by an earthquake or faulty building practices or whatever, there wouldn't have been nearly as much fuss about it. It's not as if the insane response from US population was a matter of "two building fall down"

The reason why 9/11 was so upsetting to the US population was their widespread feelings of Imperialist Chauvinism and the subsequent outrage at seeing it so openly and violently defied. The US was at the height of its Imperialist power at the turn of the millennium, a hegemonic superpower that was dominant in some way over more or less the entire world. Whether they'd phrase it in such a way or not, most people in the US were very well aware of this; as far as they were concerned the US was truly the greatest country on the Earth. For some this was a point of pride, for others it was a simple fact of the world. This made them feel secure; bombings and mass killings might happen in those "shithole nations" of the earth but it couldn't happen over there. The US military could wipe entire cities off the map and like maybe that was good, maybe that was unfortunate and maybe it meant nothing at all. Either way that was normal; the violence flowed from the Core to the Periphery.

Until one day it didn't. One day a group of people from that Periphery, from some shithole group of nations, struck back. Now the sorts of destruction they'd seen on TV were happening right outside their window; the US got the smallest taste of the sort of brutality they had long inflicted on the rest of the world. And they did not like that taste at all. The US people as a whole went mad with grief and rage, not at the death of any people but the death of their sense of unquestionable safety and superiority. And the only hope of getting that feeling back was to inflict a revenge so terrible that no one would dare resist or retaliate again.

If bloodshed was how they'd built their empire, only more bloodshed could keep it safe. And this time they didn't even have to feel bad about it. It's not as if the US empire had ever given the world any peace, but now they had the perfect pretense to escalate it to levels not seen in decades. If they talked about this isolated and comparatively limited attack as though it was some great invasion, the US government and its supporters could take all the moral high ground of "self defence" even as they slaughtered impoverished peoples on the other side of the world. So it made sense to treat the 11 September attacks as though they were the greatest tragedy of all time. 9/11 didn't break the US psyche, it just made them express it in a more shameless way. It's not as though genocidal Imperialist violence was anything new to the USA. Afghans were just the new Apaches; the "Middle East" a new "Wild West"

[martialartslover7]

Right off the bat, thanks for the positive response.

And about that bit with Shikamaru, sure, you can say that this might potentially contradict all the lessons he learned, while avenging Asuma's passing, but I will say, after all this, even he may start asking a lot of questions about the legitimacy of ANYTHING he was being told from the ground up. Because, knowing that Hiruzen was such a useless piece of garbage for a human being, who practically enabled war crimes on the regular, never asking questions, and just letting Danzo have his way, all that "Will of Fire" nonsense may no longer bear any weight, because it's all build on lies, further spoonfed to people with no guiding principles of their own. All carefully constructed, so that, in the end, it only favors those, that are in-power, and not the ones a few levels lower. It's glorified dictatorship, with just a lot of make up on, to hide the ugly mug beneath it.

Like, something tells me, he always knew that in a way, he was always a lazy bum, but it leaves you asking, WHY that is. He might have been the first to see right through Hiruzen's bullshit, realizing, there is no pointing in risking your life for a state, that doesn't even know you exist, or care to know. Risking your life for your comrades, that's a different story, but by this point in time, after Pain's attack on the Leaf village, the ugly truth of who they were all following was slowly creeping its way to the surface.

Honestly, after learning this, I was half-expecting Naruto himself to develop in a more negative, but understandable direction, after the war, specifically during the Blank Period, because... You cannot tell me, the war didn't affect him in a negative way, there is just no way. Grasping more and more, how it must have felt for Sasuke to know, the most important people in his life, sacrificed themselves, only to be met with scorn and spite, having the village essentially piss on their families' grave. Especially bearing the knowledge that, a piece of trash like Danzo, essentially rendered the sacrifices of both his parents, and the deaths of all those, who were affected by his actions, the Uchiha clan included, completely meaningless. Making it seem as if their sacrifices meant nothing in the end. This HAS to break Naruto in a way, in a similar vein to what Sasuke had to go through, after Madara spilled the beans to him. Knowing that, these loving individuals, who would have continued to give their otherwise bleak, lonely world, more light, bit the dust, for freaking nothing.

If Naruto was actually peak, let's be real, the Blank Period should be renamed the "Revolution Period", where Naruto and Sakura band together, along with the Konoha 12, to publically pardon and relieve the Uchiha clan, working to get a memorial stone set up, with all the names of the Uchiha, down to the last freaking INFANT that was born and slain that fateful night, to be carved on there, along with a memorial statue of Itachi Uchiha. An everlasting reminder that: This should never happen again.

Only then. ONLY THEN. Will Sasuke be able to come home, and TRULY feel like, he came home. To give him the feeling that, this village, in spite of all its faults, is willing to show humility, especially under Kakashi's guidance. That, his clan, is finally being acknowledged. Along with the sacrifice of his brother. Naruto would openly welcome his brother-in-arms back, and all this, would be the ULTIMATE form of a love declaration on behalf of Sakura. It can also be seen as an apology letter from both Kakashi and Sakura, for not having trusted him at first (sorry, I am a SasuSaku loyalist, but don't worry, I more than sympathize with the hesitation to accept it, I have been there).

Happy End.

...unless, the Konoha elders don't plan on soiling the memorial stones.

Weird Wednesday Headcanon: Outside of Team 7, Neji, Shikamaru and Kiba sympathize the most with Sasuke's fall from grace after the Five Kage Summit.

Alright, this is another headcanon of mine that can be written off as "mental", but hear me out, this has so much potential.

I'd like to think that, outside of Team 7, Sasuke wasn't just closely acquainted with Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, but also:

Neji (whom we even got a small teaser hint of a rivalry between him and Sasuke for, which sadly, never came to be, because Byakugan VS Sharingan is a question in the community, that truly needs answering)

Shikamaru (shogi rivals, nuff' said, the only guy, that managed to corner Shikamaru at his own game, I mean, Sasuke is meant to be a genius too, so, why not?)

Kiba (just being around him, Sasuke's IQ just automatically decreases, but in a fun way, like Renji and Uryu from Bleach, considering, Kiba had lived most of his life, surrounded by moody, dominating women, and he might be Sasuke's "stay-in wingman", when it comes to Sakura, or they would just talk about how tiring women can be, but they do manage to get best results out of you with their motivation, and he would be way easier to handle for Sasuke, because unlike Naruto, Kiba ain't braindead)

These are the three main players, but if you want, you can also put Choji and Rock Lee into the mix, considering that, later down the road, Sasuke's and Choji's daughter would end up becoming besties, and if Might Guy wouldn't survive the war, he and Lee can become the new Kakashi and Might Guy, the next generation, if you will. And this is ironic, because...

...just by coincidence, who else was sent to get Sasuke back, to prevent him from defecting to Orochimaru? Ah yes.

But now, I get to the meat and bones of this thread. And that being, the reason why I believe personally, it was a wasted opportunity to not give Sasuke more personal allies that sympathize with his actions, after he joined the Akatsuki.

Like, NO ONE can tell me, that the Uchiha weren't the only ones, who were under close observation within Konoha borders, by the elders. Sure, they were the biggest target, but it leaves you asking, especially in regards to those clans, who are either the strategist faction, or possess sensory type abilities: What about them? Wouldn't they suspect that something was going horribly wrong over there, at the Uchiha compound? Did absolutely NO ONE hear the screams, or blood splatters? I am just not sold on the idea that EVERYONE in Konoha blindly agreed to Tobirama's discriminatory policies, some had to know better than most. The select few, who weren't exactly fans of just distancing themselves from another clan, all because some frankly racist piece of garbage for a Hokage said so, along with the useless shitstains, that are the Konoha elders, especially Danzo.

And now, three people come to mind, where I truly felt like, they could have been there that night, when the Uchiha clan was being slaughtered, and they were either too late to stop it, or Itachi had knocked them out with his Genjutsu (which purposely contradicts Madara's propaganda about "no one in the village cared about the Uchiha, and only saw them as tools"). And ironically, they are probably the very select few of the adult shinobi, who weren't complete sub-human trash.

Hizashi Hyuga.

Shikaku Nara.

Tsume Inuzuka.

Just picture these three adults being the only ones, who caught on to what was happening, through not just the screams of terror, the smell of blood, or seeing through the walls with the Byakugan from Hizashi. But sadly, by the time they arrive, most of the Uchiha were already slaughtered. And right before they could even act to evacuate those, who may have survived, Itachi arrives, and knocks them clean out with his Tsukuyomi, not killing them, as their passing would just cause an uproar throughout the village, the following day.

And once Danzo learns, that three non-Uchiha, Leaf shinobi, were actually present that night, and they may or may not have caught a glimpse of who else was there that night, Hizashi, Shikaku and Tsume were forced to stay silent on the matter, as Danzo threatened them, through the lense of the ROOT Anbu:

"Dare to let a single word about last night's events slip, then your clans will be receiving severe repurcussions."

I mean, sure, it's kind of silly to try and silence three unrelated Leaf ninja into keeping silent, but considering how paranoid the elderly can be, especially Danzo, I wouldn't put it past him to actually go there.

And how convenient, because as the story progressed, two of these adults would wind up deceased. Shikaku died in the 4th Great Ninja war. One piece of the puzzle, gone.

Hizashi would actually be the first one to die, before all two of them, because the Hyuga clan was trying to mend their security blunder that one fateful night, when someone from Kumogakure tried to kidnap Hinata. But keeping in mind everything I just said, it just adds another layer to how corrupt this shinobi system truly is. Who is to say, Danzo basically bribed the Hyuga elders to sacrifice Hizashi, in place of Hiashi, because he couldn't possibly risk that one defiant Hyuga showing lip to the Hokage? Something to think about. Even if Hiruzen remains a useless piece of shit. You can never be TOO careful, right?

Tsume would probably be the only adult to keep on living, to tell the tale, and through her, does Kiba learn, how deep the rabbit hole with Danzo actually goes, and how Sasuke's hatred for the village MIGHT be """mildly""" justified. Especially if Neji and Shikamaru were to approach him about their own clan blunders, involving Danzo, right after his passing at the hands of Sasuke.

But especially Neji, man... If everything I said gets applied in practice, it would mean, outside of Naruto, he might also be considered worthy of facing Sasuke in battle, after the Five Kage Summit. Because, not only does he more than understand how it truly feels to lose family and loved ones, but also, how this entire shinobi system is essentially screwing over those, who were unfortunate enough to be born into families, that get treated like dirt by the government, that is supposed to protect them. Just imagine their exchange, while Kiba faces off against Jugo, and Shikamaru holds Suigetsu at bay.

"A slave to your own family... I really don't need another moral lecture from a man, who willingly decided to stick to his own kin, despite them viewing you as nothing short of cannonfodder. And yet, despite it all, you still side with them... Run, Neji. Run and hide with your insignificant existence weighing you down, before I tear you to pieces." --Sasuke

"No, Sasuke. You're wrong. If it's any consolation, I am more than able to sympathize with your current state of mind. As of recently, I had to learn the hard way, that you and I, at the end of the day, are not so different. Believe me, you're not the only one, who was royally screwed over by the same village that you once swore to protect. The only reason, why I am not defecting, is because I still have family left to protect... Which is something I cannot say on your behalf, as much as it saddens me to say this. You have every right to hate us. Especially considering, we believed the rumors first, leaving no room for you to speak up and defend yourself. I didn't come to lecture you. And I won't run... because I am going to make you listen." --Neji

Pretty epic, isn't it? I am sorry, Neji is just the GOAT to me, and anything to make him and Sasuke spiritual broskies, I am here for that. Just visualize how adrenaline-driven their encounter would end up being, if you add the Bankakyo Byakugan into the mix. This is how Neji's Bankakyo would look like (source by Aleister Brown):

And for context on what this eye gives Neji for busted abilities, which make him a more or less equal match to Sasuke, after he got Itachi's eyes implanted:

Left eye: Foresight (he can look 10 seconds into the future, to predict Sasuke's moves, before he could even pull them off)

Right eye: Timeskip (improves his Taijutsu, by basically freezing time all around himself, and teleporting, at anything his eyes can see for time)

And, to make it even, with the Bankakyo, you can even summon a chakra avatar, similar to the Susano'o called, Sarutakahiko, take a look:

And because it's me, this is the music that plays in my mind, every time I am trying to visualize their fight, with these conditions being met:

...and to end this thread on a more comical note, when I said, Sasuke's IQ lowers around Kiba, and I compared the two to Renji and Uryu, here is why. It's even more ironic when you consider, Uryu and Sasuke have the same seiyuu! Noriaki Sugiyama! Check it:

OK, OK, enough with that. Have a nice day.

Peace.

[sttoru]

your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.

you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.

“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”

he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.

you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”

satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.

“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.

satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.

“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.

“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.

little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.

the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”

that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.

not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.

his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”

. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.

“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.

the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.

“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”

there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”

you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.

[whimsydingbat]

…

if you read this and the first post, I sincerely apologize. you’re getting a hard look at the deepest recesses of my mind, open agape and oozing my most vulnerable thoughts I could ever reveal. they’re words that I need to be said, written. I find I don’t ever learn my lesson unless I talk about it. so, I hope those who care enough to read are receptive.

[hoshigray]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 & 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 | ryōmen sukuna

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - heian era! au-ish - itty bitty degradation - biting/nibbling - tw: cannibalism + blood kink - clitoral play - choking - scratching - lotus + missionary positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (little bird/one, plaything, pet) - possessive behavior - shit gets kinda . . . intense - mentions of blood (like, LOTS of it), drool/spit, and tears.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k

“Hah…ahh….”

It felt cold… everything was dark…and pain ignited all around your body…

“Keheh, wake the hell up, little one. Who said you could sleep?”

And the person responsible for your suffering gets a kick out of it.

Anything and everything is beneath the King of Curses, a piece of information that isn’t just a fact to the cursed behemoth but a law — no one and nothing is exempt from this rule. Anyone is free to prove him wrong, but know that most, if not all, have met their end trying to dismantle themselves from this philosophy. Arrogant fools are what he’d call them: maggots that deserved to be squashed, trash that deserved to be incinerated…and food meant to appease his appetite.

To Sukuna, humans are worth nothing more than inconsequential pieces of walking meat and bones wrapped together. A human himself, however, the cursed man is far too superior even to believe that he was once intimidated to fit within their flimsy expectations. Their labels and ways of living mean nothing to him; they are beliefs that only further the idicracy of the human mind, which never fail to astound him. Yet, the more delusional they are, the more tastier.

And the same goes for you, his fragile, feeble, and delicious little flower.

There have been many humans the man has consumed in his life, the tender muscles of corpses being his favorite treat to shred with his teeth, and the coppery taste of the thick blood that quenches his thirst. There’s no doubt in his mind: human flesh is ever so delectable. And judging from tonight, it’s even more so when he has you under his submission.

You were nude like always, stripped of your robes to expose your body for him, pristine from any dirt or force that wasn’t his. Like many nights before, you sat on him with Sukuna’s lower arms holding you by the thighs as your legs sprawled around his massive figure. Both his cocks out to marvel at, one of them stuffed inside and stretching the opening of your hole, your mouth stuck permanently agape because of the girth you could never prepare for. 

There was a chill in the autumn night, contrasting to the warmth inside Sukuna’s chambers, both from the candles basking a glow into the room and the exchange within the union of your bodies. Sweat travels down to your body and ass and connects with the skin of his thighs as he ruts into you. Your frame rocks with every motion, prompting squeakier sound out of your system, and constant shudders rattle your spine with every brush of his unattended cock on your tummy.

“Ahhh, nmmmfuck, ‘Kunaaa,” you call out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you burry into the crook. “My Lord, ohmy—Nmmm! Feels…so good…”

“Yes, little bird?” His deep voice relaxes you. “What feels good? Hmm?” You receive a sharp thrust to your inner channel, causing you to bounce on his thighs with a sharp cry. “Answer me?”

“—Mmnph, ohGod, you feel so good!” You whine from his tip brushing your sweet spots with ease, and the outer cock grinding on your clit has you gasping for air. “Y-You make me feel so gooood…”

The cursed being chuckles darkly to you ear that you nearly melt. “How pathetic, all it takes is my cock to have you crying like a whore.” Another rut marks a hit to your cervix. You scream aloud, and he grins broader. “Must be like that to any man who can treat you with themselves.”

“Neverrr,” you slur out, drool on the verge of escaping after receiving another poke to your womb, a deadly attack when you already have to endure the onslaught of swipes on your clitoris. “No one can ever please me like you—Oooh—you do! No one can ever replace you, my Lord—“

“Who said anything about replacing me?” His upper right hand comes to your throat to choke; the sudden restriction of breath has you twitching on his cock like crazy. “I’ll be damned if you even have the gal to think of having some other insolent brat take my place.” The mere thought of another’s hands roaming around your body — what was his by all rights — fueled a subtle anger, the hold on your airways getting tighter.

You look to him with lustful eyes, void of fear and filled with love instead. Just pitiful, you amuse him. “Of course not, my Lord, I –I would never be foolish enough to do that.” your daze was getting worse, and you couldn’t stop clasping onto his girth. “I belong to no one…Hahhhh, no one else but Ryomen Sukuna, my Lord…my King.” 

Good. Sukuna scoffs and brings you to him, and you shiver as his tongue runs up your trapezius. “Don’t you ever forget that, pet — you are mine, my plaything forever and always, till you bore me or I rid you of this Earth myself.” And then he sinks his teeth into the skin, tears now falling with the ignited wince of pain. “Understand?”

“Yesss!” You moan, “I belong to you and…no one else.”

His tongue then licks around your inflicted wound, a bit of your blood escaping the dents he indicted lather onto his wet muscle. Your taste sparks on his tastebuds, and he hums as he licks it.

Then, all of a sudden…he wishes to taste more.

He inflicts another bite, piercing his teeth deeper than before, and you wail with another spasm of tightness around his dick. Fuck, oh, now he’s enjoying this even more. “More, more.” Another bite is placed on your neck, and your eyebrows knit together as your hands ball into fists. “I said give. Me. More!”

Before you could even register, Sukuna’s teeth grind roughly on your neck and tear off the skin, your flesh stuck into his mouth and blood spraying and dripping down. At first, you don’t realize it until your eyes flicker, and you sense the source of a brief shutdown. Then comes the bundles of nerves activating to indicate something is wrong, and a giant wave of aches permeates around your neck. You see a deep scarlet coat on your neck, your chest, and his lips. And you shriek.

“S-SUKUNA!?!” A million thoughts travel at the speed of light. “Wh-What’s going on?! Why are you—AUGHH!” He pins you down to the futon, and the clean white sheets now begin to harbor shades of red. He switches the cock inside you with the outer; the one sheathed with your slick grinds on the crevice of your ass.  

“Quiet, pet.” He commands with his upper hands, caging yours, drinking more of your blood pouring from your neck. “I’m famished.” He chews on more of your muscle, gulping and slurping and chewing and gnawing at any bit of you his teeth can latch onto. Your screams grow mute to him, his focus on your inner taste.

And that’s not the only thing you’re wailing and trying to squirm out of; Sukuna’s mouth of his stomach has a mind of its own, the tongue licking on your stomach before nibbling on the flesh. Your feeble attempts to try and kick are worthless, the man keeping a firm grip on your ankles. It isn’t long before he tears the skin off your abdomen as well, more hues of carmine drenching the futon.

Shouts go louder and louder as every new wave of pain hits you one after the other, tears striking down your cheeks as you sob aloud and beg for your master to reconsider. But it’s too late; the man is already drunk on your gummy muscles and thick blood. You tasted sweet, juicy, and tender. The smell of copper and its metallic taste furthers his drive for more, getting way too turned on by this.

Your throat is running dry from the constant eruptions of screams you release, broken cries bouncing off the shoji frames and panels, yet no one is around or awake to rescue you at this hour. And even if they were, no one would dare come into the domain of the King of Curses. No one would be dumb enough to try and stop the behemoth from hammering his cock into your figure as he eats you alive.

And the worst part about it…is how oddly good you still feel from it!

Sukuna doesn’t stop pistoning himself into you, even with both mouths full of your flesh torn off of your limbs. His length feverishly hits your womb to the point of your head pounding, and spontaneous grazes to your G-spot leave you rolling your eyes in the air. His sharp nails pierce into your thighs, and more trails of blood paint around your body as he scratches deep into your skin. Is it normal for your cunt to be spasming like crazy as the tongue of his stomach digs inside you to slurp on your intestines? No, it cannot be, it’s wrong to think so…so why the fuck do you feel so fucking good?!

“—Ghaahh, fuck,” he swears with hot breath, his mouth so damp with your blood that his tanned skin harbors a literal mess. Everything is a mess — you, him, this futon, this room, this entire night. And that does nothing to shatter Sukuna’s ego. “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—Nnmmgh!! Shit, I’m gonna cum…! Gonna fucking….Ffffahhahh!!”Hips go fucking wild, bucking into your aching, sore chasm like nothing, chasing for his release that he can feel creeping in. The more your vaginal walls wring him out, the more he throws his pelvis at you; the sounds of skin slapping against each other increase in volume. 

Finally, with a loud groan, Sukuna goes still and allows himself to burst his essence into you, the pool of his orgasm consuming him into a state of euphoria that has him elated more than ever. He’s huffing so hard above you, sweat now running cold as the clarity pecks him while the shocks entertain him before they subside.

However, everything still feels hot, you still feel warm on his cock, and your blood masks him from the cool air. Sukuna lifts his face to look at what he’s done, and no ounce of pride can be hidden from how big his grin is.

You lay there, legs twitching uncontrollably and skin drenched with nothing but red. Any attempts to speak are impossible, your throat so dry and your voice low and destroyed from exerting so much force earlier. And your eyes, typically shining with life and happiness that pairs with your smile, now display nothing — pure lifeless, dwindling out like the candle flames as your color fades with the anguish you’ve been bestowed with your flickering vitality. Pieces of your flesh, torn muscle, and a pool of blood are left as your final resting place.

He could heal you and stop the bleeding, save you from the face of death before you bleed out. But it wouldn’t be like him if he didn’t admire the view of his work after ravishing his meal. His crimson gaze gleams with a dark amusement as he chuckles.

“My tasty little bird.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[a-a-lost-munchkin]

I thought this was going to be criticism on the jet pack thing but am now a little confused. (I personally am not a fan of the jet pack thing).

I think you have valid criticisms, even though I don’t agree with all of them. I liked Calypso’s song but didn’t sympathize with her, even though it felt like we were supposed to. I really liked Dangerous as a set up to Odysseus’ voyage. I really liked Charybdis but wish it was longer and had more story in it.

I really liked Get in the Water and 600 Strikes, especially regarding its composition. The instrumentals are amazing, and so is the voice acting. It felt climatic and desperate. It felt like an epic battle with a god. Plus, Odysseus did try this one final plea, but it failed. Words weren’t going to work here, and there wasn’t a clever way besides the bag or divine intervention to get out. Poseidon wasn’t interested in what he had to say and wasn’t giving him the opportunity to speak. I don’t think that even in Homer’s Odyssey that Odysseus beat Poseidon with words. He got help from Athena and a group of people Poseidon protected, besting him that way with cleverness instead of words.

Also, I’m not sure what you mean by saying Odysseus begging for his life would show ruthlessness? Yes, it would be ruthless if Odysseus said outrightly “screw my crew, I did what I needed to do,” and begging for his life would be very human of him, but it’d be more pathetic than ruthless, and Poseidon would just kill him. I think it’s also very human of Odysseus to be pissed off and angry and to fight a god, even if its outlook isn’t good. Poseidon killed his men and friends. Poseidon has actively been keeping him from going home. Poseidon is his enemy. He’s tried his other tactics but nothing’s worked; the only method left is violence, even if he dies in the attempt.

I also don’t think this musical is about becoming strong enough to beat a god. It’s about a series of unfortunate events that turned somebody into a shell of themselves and transformed them. Homer’s Odysseus was ruthless, too, in his own ways, and a dick. He doesn’t return to Ithica desperate and whimpering. He returns and ruthlessly murders a bunch of people.

Also- there was no power of friendship. The ghosts were trying to get Odysseus to join them in death/were in his head. I think the singing we hear in 600 and what Odysseus was doing was enacting vengeance on their behalf, not them helping him, though I personally would’ve liked that better than the jet pack.

To your last point- what stopped Homer’s Poseidon? The internet doesn’t give a straight answer. I don’t think there was one. So, like, good point, but an unfair point as well. I think this Poseidon decided Odysseus wasn’t worth the trouble anymore or that his point had been made. Plus, he’s failed to kill him twice, and he has protection from other gods, which might play into it.

Again, I think not liking this saga is valid. I personally liked all the songs but wished it could’ve been longer. I also didn’t like the jet pack angle because it felt absurd to me and took me out of the story. Like, it makes sense for the creator due to his apparent love for anime and epic moments, but I thought it was ridiculous and have chosen to ignore it. I would’ve liked the ghost angle or, more so, divine intervention from Athena again, but I also get what Jorge was going for. This saga was meant to be a build up and a conclusion. A closure of an arc. A full circle. The result to Poseidon’s earlier actions that set off the rest of the story.

Overall, this is an adaptation retelling, and Jorge’s made that pretty clear, having said before that he’s taken extensive liberties and to not use it as a source for the original. I see it like the Mythos retellings we see in bookstores like The Song of Achilles and Circe or fairytale retellings. Heavily based on the original but meant to be different.

I totally understand being disappointed, though, if that wasn’t what you were looking for.

Okay, I lied, I'm not done with vengeance saga.

For some reason I'm still so angry and sad because of it, that I need to criticize it more or I won't be able to sleep.

I'm again so fucking disappointed, the whole saga felt like some kind of joke. I mean, the song I was worried the most about - "not sorry for loving you - turned out to be the most normal one. Like, yeah, Calypso is still very selfish and manipulative, Odysseus just want to be as far from her as possible and etc, I don't like that we are clearly expected to sympathise with her, but you know, in the context of this saga I'll go with it.

Dangerous felt a little overdone. I love Hermes, "wouldn't you like" was my favorite song for a long time, and maybe compared to it "Dangerous" is trying so much to go with the same vibe, but feels so deliberate about this.

I don't have much to say about "Charybdis" because there is nothing really to talk about, visuals were great, but everything felt so rushed, and also so meaningless, like they just needed to show at least one obstacle for Odysseus before Poseidon and nothing more.

And, yeah...

"Get in the water" and "600 strikes".

If you haven't guessed it yet, I'm very disappointed.

First of all, it is a lot weaker musically that I've expected. Okay, maybe there are good. Maybe I just am not able to hear this, because through these two songs I just stared at the screen with the confused and disappointed look, so I wasn't able to enjoy music or acting on its own.

Second, I was so interested in "get in the water", i liked the snippet we had so much before. It was so cool, emotional, and dark. I was so invested in finding out how Odysseus could escape this, what he might have said to change Poseidon's mind, maybe expected there to be some gesture towards the Odyssey, where Odysseus would tell Poseidon that he will go on this quest with the oar and so on. Also, i hoped to finally see "snake tongued" Odysseus in action because, like, that's what he is the most known about, for his mastery in words.

But this?

This was so bad. It also feels so fucking disrespectful to Poseidon, like, don't get me wrong, i like the change in power balance, I love when a character who wasn't able to do anything at some point now is beating the shit out of his former abuser and etc, BUT THIS IS NOT WORKING WITH THE GODS AND MORTALS IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY. AND THIS IS NOT WORKING WITH POSEIDON AND ODYSSEUS, THE STORY OF THE ODYSSEY IS NOT ABOUT HOW TO BECOME STRONG ENOUGH TO BEAT THE GOD. IT IS SO FAR OFF!

Like, yeah, the original is neither about "learning that you need to be ruthless to be able to return home if that's what you want so much", but there is difference in the level of what level of getting things wrong is normal and can be called "creative liberties" and what level is just bad. If you wanted so much for Odysseus to show how ruthless he became, well, we've already seen "different beast" to show us his cruelty, don't you think that maybe if they showed us how epic-Odysseus is able to put aside all the men Poseidon has killed and all of the pain he himself have gone through because of Poseidon and just talk with him, bargaining about his own life or something like this it would have also shown his ruthless side in a new way and be so much more believable? Even if he pulled out "there are other ways" move I think I would belive it more than that he is able to defeat Poseidon, the god of SEA, STORMS and EARTHQUAKES, PHISICALLY, in the SEA, with the STORM and fucking power of friendship (no, I will not stop calling it like this).

You know, I have a lot more to say about this, but I guess i'll stop with this. I guess I feel so bad about it because I really liked epic, yeah, I had problems with it, but I considered it nice adaptation even if it's kind of far from the source material, it felt very good and respectful to the original Odyssey, but now it became this. So yeah, I'm really disappointed.

And also, even if epic Odysseus was somehow able to defeat a god, what the fuck will stop epic Poseidon from returning after couple of months recovery and just wipe whole Ithaca off the face of the earth after such offense and shame? Like literally what? Or little epic Poseidon is now so afraid of big bad epic Odysseus that wouldn't bare even think about his name again?

[lymtw]

Toji being a needy hunk, not allowing you to get things done...

"Hey," Toji calls when he sees you walking in front of him, carrying a basket of clothes that just came out of the dryer. You don't hear him so you keep walking, only stopping when you hear a whistle that sounds like it's meant for a dog. You turn to him, a question mark decorating your face. He beckons to you, a mouthed 'come here' that you shake your head to and move on. "Come on, princess. Need to tell you something."

"You can't tell me from there? I have a lot to do, still."

"Don't wanna shout at you. I have manners."

You think back to the way he whistled to grab your attention and roll your eyes. You set the basket down on your bed and step back out to see what Toji needs.

"What?" Your hands are on your hips, waiting for him to answer.

"Come here, baby." He pulls on the knee area of your sweatpants, making your stumble forward.

"Toji," you giggle, as he pulls you until you fall into his lap. "What?" You repeat.

"Nothing, just missing you a bit, ma. You avoiding me?" He rests his hands on your waist, looking up at you with that gleam in his eyes. You know he normally looks at you this way when he wants something, and you feel so foolish for always giving in to him.

"I told you i'm busy. I have to finish folding the laundry, and I haven't even started dinner."

"Don't worry about that, right now. Looks like you could use a break. Don't you wanna stay a bit?"

"I do, but..."

"But, you love me and you'll spare me some company." His hands go under your shirt and squeeze your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck.

"T-Toji, this won't get done on time." Your arms wrap around his neck, your hands coming up to play with his hair as his lips continue to attack your neck.

"Mm," he hums, dismissively, continuing to drown himself in your scent. That little hum is his nonverbal way of saying 'and?'

"We'll have to order in for the third time this week." You gasp, his lips reaching a sensitive point. "I-It's not good for us."

"Mama..." he almost whines into your skin. "We've got it... under... control," he murmurs through kisses. "We have an excellent cardio routine, don't we?" He says, beneath your ear.

"Y-Yeah, I think so. But-"

Toji chuckles, "You think so?" He pulls back to see the honest look on your face. He looks like a wolf, ready to pounce on the little pleading bunny before him. His pupils almost completely devoured the green around them just from inhaling your irresistible scent and feeling your warm skin on his lips.

You look a little more shaken up than Toji, and he loves it. You're flustered, unable to respond to his question. You feel like there's cotton in your mouth, absorbing all the saliva in it, leaving you unable to cohere anything.

"You nervous, princess?" He grins like the big bad wolf he is, feasting on the way you swallow. Your fingers tremble as they rest on his shoulders.

"No. We've been together for years. I'm not." It took everything in you to declare that, but it was far from the truth.

"Oh yeah?" He says, a chuckle bubbling in his chest. He can see through this little facade of yours. It's in the way you avoid eye contact, the way your grip is loose on him, and as a result of the dryness in your mouth, you keep licking your lips.

Nonetheless, you nod in response to his question.

"Well... what if we switched positions," he says, flipping you so that you're laying on the couch, his body now wedged between your legs. You giggled at the swift movement, the smile dropping once you looked up. "I can watch you closely, and... you're stuck."

His hands maintain his balance by gripping the end of the couch, above your head. He towers over you, making you look so incredibly small beneath him.

"You're so pretty, ma. Could eat you up right now." He leans further down towards your face, gravity pulling his hair down so perfectly. "Could make you feel so good, if you let me."

You felt like you were sinking into the couch with how flustered you were, but Toji could see the needy twinkle in your eyes. Beneath this nervous, timid front, is a pretty girl who takes everything she's given.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Being Goo Kim's Secret Friend: Gitae Kim

2.2k. G/N. Gitae Kim x reader. Reader is morally grey. Gets spicy (Prequel-ish: An Introduction) Other Masterlists

“So, let me get this straight."

"Mm." Goo hums, meaning go ahead.

"You're paying me to babysit?"

"Man-sit," he interjects.

"Whatever." You flap your hand, "but I am looking after this person, correct?"

"Yes my little sweetpea." Goo rests his head on your shoulder, so close you could count his eyelashes and see the way his pupils dilate. "It's my secret friend's first time back in Seoul after being away. It'll be good for you to show him around."

"...I'm charging my usual rate."

"Sure-"

"And you're covering our expenses."

He rolls his eyes, "Ugh, fine."

.

.

Gitae Kim, from what you have managed to find out, is patricidal and a powerful man with unsavoury dealings.

"Play nice," was Goo's parting advice when you came to him with your concerns.

"Play nice?!" You say, voice shrill. Goo grins.

"Fuck you, my rate just tripled."

The grin drops and is replaced by a scowl.

.

.

"I thought we could try this place. It serves the best yukhoe." You gaze over to Gitae sitting in the passenger seat as you navigate the roads, checking if there's any response. 

Nothing.

"Raw beef tartare." You explain, "I've heard you can be bloodthirsty."

His eyes flicker to you and you give him your most charming smile.

.

.

Head resting in your palm and elbow on the table, you observe him.

You find his table manners leaves a lot to be desired and watching him has put you off your own meal.

He eats like a beast but if the ferocity that he attacks his food is anything to go by, you're right on the money with guessing his taste.

"Let's get you another drink," you murmur, signalling for the staff. "Goo will kill me if you choke to death and I'm not practised with the heimlich."

.

.

"That was good, right?" You ask, striding alongside and trying to match Gitae step for step as he ignores you.

"I think you enjoyed it. Or you look like you did. I'm not really a fan of raw anything to be honest but gotta be a good host." You direct a smile his way and he hasn't even glanced over at you. You shrug it off and continue to ramble. "I'm still pretty hungry. There's a really good bubble tea place round here and they have a limited edition drink I want to get-"

"No," Gitae cuts in rudely.

"It won't take five minutes."

"No." He repeats, indicating there's no room for argument.

"Aww, cmon," you pout and he once again continues to ignore you. You consider going anyway, with or without Gitae. 

Goo, face scrunched up in anger and shrieking obscenities, pops into your mind's eye when you imagine telling him that you might have lost his secret friend because you wanted a bubble tea.

"Fine," you grumble and throw Gitae a dirty look.

.

.

Gapryong's eldest is a man of few words and it only adds to his intimidating and menacing aura.

You've seen his list of achievements and he is not someone you want as an enemy. But when someone is this difficult, your default is to try and see what response you can get out of them.

"You know they have vapes now," you signal at the pipe hanging from his belt as you continue to walk next to him.

"Do you smoke?" you ask, and expectedly, he doesn't respond,

"No? I guess it's cool you're committing to it for aesthetic reasons." Then dammit, you wonder what has gotten into you. Maybe it's hanging out with Goo too much because you can't help but add, "Even if it makes you a bit... y'know."

He slows, looking over at you at the same time that you pull a face. Indicating clearly you meant 'cringe' even if you didn't say it aloud.

"You do you though," you say, giving him a thumbs up.

He looks at you for a beat longer, head tilted and eyes narrowed, before continuing on his way with you scurrying to catch up.

.

.

By the end of the first week, Gitae has responded to exactly three things that you've said.

The second week, he's still mostly silent but he actually looks at you sometimes when you talk.

The third week, he calls you by your name when he demands your attention and you're surprised that he even knows who you are.

And the fourth - you manage to make him laugh.

Ok, maybe laugh is a bit generous, but he exhales harder than usual and you're sure he's at least amused.

.

.

GItae thinks you're strange.

You run your mouth like you don't know who you're talking to, though you anticipate his needs and preferences like you've been studying him for most of your life.

You're this side of irritating, but not irritating enough that he wants to kill you. 

And, the few times he tunes in to your comments, he admits that he finds you quite entertaining.

No-one has spoken to him like you do in a long time. There's a refreshing honesty to your words, and he's also confident that you're not going to stab him in the back at any second to wrest control of his cartel territory, which is also a welcome change from his usual company

It means that he can relax around you, or relax as much as someone like him can..

All in all, progress. Gitae finds himself trusting you like you're his second-in-command.

.

.

"What do you do for fun?" You ask. Gitae doesn't respond.

Right, you think, back to ignoring me.

You roll your eyes and start to ramble about this and that. You tell him that you're chronically online, giving a wry smile, and say it's a general side effect of your job but at least it's interesting to know the ins and outs of a few things.

Really though, maybe you should consider taking up some exercise to get fit or even as a form of self defence with your line of work and the people you come into contact with (you give Gitae a side eye at this) but it's kinda hard to find the time and-

"I can teach you," comes Gitae's low voice.

"What?"

"I can teach you," he repeats and your mouth drops open in shock.

.

.

Ok, as far as bad ideas go, this is a terrible one.

First, Gitae is huge. There is no chance you could even win in a spar or anything against him. You doubt even bullets would be able to penetrate that muscle.

Second, there is a lot of close contact and even more touching.

You aim a punch with all your might at him, any part of him. He deflects without effort, capturing your fist in his palm and he pulls you to his body. Chest against your back, wrapping his arms around you and pinning your own to your side as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

He leans down to murmur into your ear. "You're very weak." You can feel his voice rumbling through his chest. "But you're very fun."

Your eyes snap to his at his words.

He's grinning, for the first time you've been with him. Eyes crazed and pupils blown, breath hot on your skin.

"Thanks!" You dip your head just before throwing it back sharply, connecting to Gitae's nose with a loud crack.

.

.

Gitae's nose isn't broken though it is bruised.

You apologise profusely and he tells you you have nothing to apologise for.

"It's a great hit."

You halt in your apologies, peering up at him through your lashes with a smug smirk, "I know."

.

.

Your response plays on his mind.

The lift of your lips, the sharpness of your smile, the confidence in your eyes, that half-lidded gaze.

"I know."

.

.

Gitae sees you in a new light.

He has enough of an understanding of Goo Kim to know that he's selective with his secret friends, and you have talked enough that Gitae also understands you play the role of brain rather than brawn.

Though he did not expect such viciousness to hide under your veneer, or you to be capable of such an underhanded move.

He's impressed.

.

.

"Why do all these shows make Mexico so blue?" You ask, watching a scene unfold on your phone. "Is it actually?"

You hold out the device to Gitae, some drama show playing and Mexico is indeed blue tinged.

"No."

"Hmm. It'll be cool to see for myself." You murmur, pulling your phone back.

Gitae pauses. The idea of you in his territory is very appealing. He can demonstrate to you exactly the kind of man he is, the power he wields. He can relish the impressed (or horrified) look on your face.

"I can show you," he says and you beam at the offer.

"Deal!"

.

.

“How many people have you killed with this?” you flex your hands, signalling ‘gimme’ and Gitae passes over his axe.

“Too many to count.”

“Cool,” you say nonchalantly,  testing your grip. Gitae gives you a strange look.

“I gather intel, remember. That’s my thing,” you say, swinging the axe experimentally a few times and appreciating the heft behind it.

The meaning is clear: I know all your secrets and Gitae, to his surprise, feels some respite at this fact.

.

.

"Fuck," you squirm to no avail, trapped underneath Gitae as he looks down at you lazily, inches from your face.

Your wrists are pinned above your head, held in place by his grip as his other hand rests, light but threatening, on your throat.

You have had a few other training sessions since the first one, and the way they had gone was all pure luck. You had managed to gain the upperhand by complete fluke.

This time you feel completely stuck. Movement completely restricted. Gitae straddles your hips and you’re left unable to escape. You have no way to get close and cause any damage.

"Looks like you lose," he says.

You buck your hips, trying to throw him off but the weight and strength difference is too vast. He barely moves even with all your effort and you’re left more dishevelled than before. Shirt riding up and hair in your eyes and mouth.

“Fuck,” you groan again, elongating the word and pouting.

You peer up at Gitae and find his eyes flicking between your jutted out bottom lip and your sliver of skin on show.

An idea pops into your head. It may be your worst one yet.

Throwing caution to the wind, you tilt your head up in one swift movement and kiss Gitae full on the mouth. You make contact harder than anticipated, almost clashing your teeth painfully together but adjusting the angle just in time. 

His body stills when he realises what you’re doing.

“Why-” he asks, pulling away, and you take advantage of the distance to nip at his bottom lip and reel him back in.

Gitae’s thoughts are cut off. 

You bite down roughly, feel your sharp canines punctuating skin.

Blood bursts onto your tongue and he lets out a guttural groan, eyes boring into yours and darkened with lust.

His other hand releases your wrist, caressing over your body, slipping down until it reaches your bare exposed skin. He slides his palm under your top, long, thick fingers splaying over your ribs.

With your hands now free, you continue kissing him, mingling spit and saliva and bursts of metallic tang.

You squirm and this time, Gitae gives in to what you want; rearranging his position without breaking contact. Tongue delving into your mouth. Tasting you as you wrap your legs around his hips.

Taking advantage of the situation, you hug your arms around his neck and use your body as leverage to flip him over. Straddling him as his hardness grinds into you and his hands circle your waist to press your body close.

You can feel exactly how turned on he is, how much he wants you. And god, you’re just as fucking horny. You want him just as badly, except now you’ve managed to climb on top, the whole point of this came rushing back. You absolutely hate yourself for stopping this but-

It’s the principle.

“You know,” you murmur into his mouth, then pushing up off his chest to sit up, “I think I’ve won. Again”

Gitae frowns at the sudden loss of contact, “What?”

“I’ve won. Pretend this is a knife,” you smirk, holding your hand against his throat, in an almost-mirror image of your previous position. “I would have killed you.”

Gitae’s eyes widened in surprise, “You did this… to win?” 

“Yep!”

“I didn’t expect you to play so dirty.” He says, grinning maniacally as the pieces click into place and he finds himself completely captivated.

“I play as dirty as I need to,” you tell him, tongue swiping out to lick the remnants of his blood from your lips before dipping your head down to kiss him and continue where you left off.

[catgirlwarrior]

Prev I think you missed the point of this.

​The point is that disabled people should not be held to a higher standard than able bodied people, who are almost never compared to olympic athletes/told they're lazy for not being at the Olympic level. The point of the post is that disabled people should not be expected to push themselves past their physical limits or be expected to constantly work their hardest or be at peak performance at all times, which is what able bodied people are doing when they say "they don't let their disability stop them" about Olympic athletes.

Are those athletes inspiring? Absolutely!! Anyone who makes it to that level of their sport deserves admiration! But using that to try and encourage or force other disabled folks into ignoring their needs because of the comparison isn't cool, and that's what OP is talking about here.

Since the Paralympics are happening and I’m seeing all sorts of people saying “See? This person doesn’t let their disability stop them!”

I would like you to remember that Paralympions are OLYMPIC LEVEL ATHLETES.

How would it feel if I compared your output to that of a literal olympic athlete and used that to justify not helping you or giving you what you need?

Oh, well Michael Phelps and Simone Biles can do it - why can’t you?

Thats how you sound.

[obxsummer]

wave of you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: more treasure hunting continues but your group takes time to enjoy the perfect surf day. it was perfect, that is until topper’s girlfriend becomes unhinged and you find yourself in the middle of an argument with… rafe cameron coming to your defense?

warnings: the usual obx angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of PTSD, cursing, crying. yeah.

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--

Sarah and John B had beat your half of the group back to the house, Kiara having been running the shop in the unexpected absences. After taking a shower to scrub the hospital off of you and changing into the comfiest clothes you could find, you joined everyone in the living area where everyone was sharing their half of the past few hours. 

John B and Sarah had taken the amulet to get an inscription translated into what you found out said Where the living and dead collide, the gatekeeper will guide the way, whatever that meant. They were kicked out shortly after revealing where the object was from, the individual telling them it was cursed. 

“Genrette was obsessed with Blackbeard, so maybe directions to his treasure?” John B theorized as he handed the amulet over to JJ.

“So, what is this treasure?” Cleo continued, “Gold?”

Pope shook his head. “No, I remember hearing something about like a… a crown, blue crown?”

His suggestion was immediately vetoed by Cleo and Kiara, neither girl believing a word he offered. You sighed and leaned back into the cushions of the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around you as you listened to them bicker. 

“Apparently, it is the most sought out artifact in the ancient world,” John B read off a page of a book he’d grabbed from the shelf. You squinted at the object in his hand, quietly asking yourself when your brother of all people read a book. “The blue crown was created for Darius the Great of Persia over 3,000 years ago.”

“That’s worth more than 50k.”

John B ignored JJ’s comment and continued, “It was said to possess the blessing of the gods themselves, granting the wearer immense favor and rare invincibility. Holy shit, look at this. Xerxes, the son of Darius the Great, he was a badass. He’s wearing it. Uh, Alexander the Great, beat the shit out of everybody. He’s wearing it. Julius Caesar, also a badass, murdered a bunch of people.”

“Dad told you all of this?” You asked him as he read the names off the pages. Pushing yourself to your feet, you moved to stand behind JJ and rested your chin on his shoulder as you looked over at what they were reading. He moved you into his side, thumb brushing your hip bone as he tugged you close.

John B shook his head at your question, glancing up at you. “No, no. I don’t remember any of this, I just know it granted wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“Hold on, it says right here the crown was lost sometime in the 1700s, but it was rumored to be hunted down by… Blackbeard.”

There was no argument that the direction of the treasure hunt had been changed when it came to a priceless item versus 50k. The whole night shifted, turning into a bonfire and celebration between the group that brought everyone’s spirits back up.

“Oh, come on!” You complained as Pope smacked your burnt marshmallow from his face, sending the treat into the grass a few feet away. “Pope, that was my fuckin’ marshmallow!”

“I’ll make you a different one! The burnt ones are ass!”

You groaned in response and fake pouted before shaking the can of beer in your hand to find it empty. The six of you had been out here since sundown, embracing the thrill of the evening and what lay ahead. Despite hating the danger your group always seemed to head into, you missed this feeling of nostalgia and anticipation. 

JJ’s hands grabbed your hips as you got up from your folding chair, bumping into him as you did so. You covered his hand in the one that didn’t have an empty can and smiled at him. “My knight in shining armor.”

“At your service, baby,” He replied instantly, trading your empty can for the fresh one he had next to him. Once it was securely in your hand, he tugged on your waist until you fell into his lap, a squeal escaping your lips before the two of you lost balance with the momentum and tumbled backward into the grass. 

You screamed in shock, your beer flying away in the chaos as you rolled off JJ who was high off his ass and giggling loudly at the fall. You couldn’t stop the laughter escaping your lips and dropped into the grass completely, overwhelmed with happiness for the first time in what felt like forever. “You dumbass!” 

“C’mere!” 

Another yelp escaped you as JJ swooped you off the lawn and over his shoulder, hauling your ass toward the house with no explanation. 

“Oh come on!” John B groaned and covered his eyes with his hand as JJ carried you out of view, various whistles from the ground following. “Fuckin’ hate you, JJ!”

JJ flipped your brother off with his free hand and walked into the house, closing the door with his shoe before he gently placed your feet on the ground. You grinned up at him, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. 

“Did you need something?” You teased and faked innocence as you fluttered your eyelashes to drive the effect home.

JJ tsked his tongue, his fingers cupping your neck before he kissed you roughly, moaning at the way your body fell into him without hesitation. You knew he wasn’t going to hold back very long and there was a 100% chance your friends could walk in at any moment.

“Upstairs,” You rushed out as his lips dropped to your neck, nipping softly at your skin to make your knees even weaker. “Jay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, his kisses stopping long enough for him to crouch and loop his arms around your ass and waist and pick you up, your ankles crossing behind his back, supported by his strong grip. “Lemme love on you.”

You hummed, kissing him again and biting gently on his bottom lip in response to his request. “You can love on me as much as you went when it’s not somewhere John B can see it.”

JJ groaned and shook his head. “Please stop bringing up your brother when we’re making out.”

You laughed loudly as he started walking up the stairs to your room, his kisses lingering on your collarbone and his grip tight as he did. The lack of light was welcomed as you landed on the bed with a laugh, barely having a second to pull your shirt off and drop your shoes before JJ was hovering over you with a hungry desire in his eyes and a whole night to make you his, again and again, just as he intended to.

--

The next morning was a haze of blissful kisses and a warm shower between you and JJ, the house still silent as everyone slept. Your boyfriend wrapped you in a soft towel, pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you he was going to check on the shack. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes before he was running through the house, waking everyone up and telling them about the swell.

The warm sunlight was shining through the window as you slipped on a swimsuit for the day, taking the time to brush your skin with sunscreen and grabbing one of John B’s lightweight shirts to slip on over your shoulders. The boys were already down prepping the boards with Kiara as you and Sarah took the time to make breakfast for everyone, knowing food would easily be forgotten in the excitement of the day.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you guys are seriously surfing today?” Pope walked across the screened-in porch while shoving his backpack on his shoulders.

You frowned at the sight of him in everyday clothes and not swimwear, “And you aren’t?”

Ever since you were little, you’d spent every surf day with the boys and Kiara. It was like the second the news of a perfect swell hit town, all bets were off and the beach was calling your name. Pope was usually the one to drag you out of bed for it, so to see him walking away was a surprise.

“Well, I don’t want to sell the million dollars I have in my hand for 50k so, I’m gonna look into this.” He held up the amulet for emphasis.

JJ looked just as confused as you did. “Wait, Pope. Didn’t you hear me? It’s a perfect swell day.”

“Yeah, and there will be other swell days.”

Low whistles and ‘ooohs’ followed his statement, the group collectively disagreeing with his mindset. John B turned to Sarah from his spot where he was waxing your board. “You wanna maximize beach day?”

Sarah pursed her lips. “I wanna maximize this tan.”

You bit into your toast and pushed at her with your toes. “Sarah Cameron, I know you used to be a Kook but you’ll learn how to surf the Pogue way today.”

She rolled her eyes in fake annoyance before pushing at your foot, sending you off balance from your stool as you yelped before laughing. 

“Well, everyone have fun maximizing.” 

“Wait!” You called out to Pope as he turned on his heels to leave. “Where’s Cleo? I have to see her on a board. She’s gotta be insane with it.”

Pope shrugged, “She texted me, said she’s looking for bait in The Cut.”

“Lame, tell her we’re closed!” Kie argued back.

JJ continued to try and convince Pope to join you all on the beach, but the boy wasn’t having it, his mind stubborn on exploring more info on the amulet for the day. He informed you all he texted Cleo to meet up before hopping on his bike and disappearing from view. 

You weren’t sure how the boys managed to get all the boards on the Twinkie, or honestly, you didn’t want to know, but the second the sand was in between your toes, you didn’t have a care in the world. Surfing was always one of your favorite pastimes. The sunshine, the water, and the feeling of landing a good wave were so rewarding. 

John B had managed to find the group an open spot on the beach to set up chairs and the umbrella he almost took JJ’s eye out with. You took off in the sand and dove headfirst into the water, relishing in the refresh it gave you as the water crossed over. It had been so long since you had nothing to do besides lay in the salty water.

The peace didn’t last long, of course. Topper and his rowdy group pulled up in their newer vehicles, purposely parking close to your group as if it would make a point. You rolled your eyes at the sight of them, knowing this wouldn’t end well because it just never really did. 

JJ met you in the water with both of your boards in hand, but your focus wasn’t on him. It was on the group piling out of the cars which happened to include Rafe Cameron.  

“I won’t let anything happen,” JJ attempted to reassure you as he stopped to kiss your temple, sliding your board into your hands. You gave him a weak nod but didn’t move your gaze as you watched Topper move closer to your setup where he intercepted John B. 

Your hands moved to give JJ the board back as you walked out of the water to approach the two boys. You didn’t need John B doing anything irrational, especially if Topper pushed his buttons the way he normally did.

“Nice of you to join the party,” Topper acknowledged as you came to stand next to your brother with crossed arms. 

“Top.” You nodded in his direction, not backing down in your defensive approach.

Topper motioned toward John B, “I was just hashing things out, you know. Friendly banter to get things even.”

“Do you really think it’s even, Topper?” You asked him as the list began to run through your head. Every time you guys got the slight upper hand, the Kooks took you down two pegs.

Topper pursed his lips and looked away from you. “Uh, let’s go down the list. You guys sunk my boat.”

“Allegedly.”

“Then you cold-cocked me and put me in the ER, remember?” He looked at John B pointedly like it was the worst thing ever.

“You beat the shit out of Pope,” You reminded him. “Or, how about pushing John B off a two-story building, hmm?”

Topper rolled his eyes and pointed behind John B. “Look, I was with her first, bro. If your girl comes to me, if she can’t resist….” 

“Real mature of you, Topper. Oh, by the way, thanks for burning our house down,” John B replied, his fingers twitching to throw the first punch, but he wouldn’t with you standing next to him.

You sneered at Topper’s attitude and stepped forward to block John B in case the emotions got the best of either boy. “Just here to surf, Top. Unless you had more to say?”

Topper’s eyes glanced behind you before he cleared his throat and refocused with no further argument. “No, no. Just here to surf.”

You hummed in agreement as he turned to walk away, mumbling something about having a good chat. Waiting until he was far enough on his side, you shifted back around to see JJ standing a few feet behind you, glare sharp enough to kill the Kook. No wonder Topper about shit his pants.

“C’mon.” John B grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the scene. You didn’t miss the way Rafe stared at you the entire time despite the new brunette he seemed to have attached to his hip. It took one glance to know she wasn’t a Kook, especially with the obvious discomfort she held around the group. 

Pushing their presence to the back of your mind, you allowed John B and JJ to tug you out into the warm sea, Kiara and Sarah following behind the three of you as the waves started to kick up. It became a routine of swapping waves, dropping in amongst your friends’ cheers and applause. Even Sarah managed to grab a couple and remain on her feet for the course into shore, which had all of you celebrating.

Hours passed between the sun and waves before you flopped on a towel and treated yourself to a midday nap. Sarah had the right idea when she said she would maximize her tan, the warm rays lulling you to sleep before you knew it.

JJ pulled himself out of the water, brushing as much from his hair as possible so he didn’t look like a wet dog. He didn’t feel half bad dropping in on a wave that Topper supposedly thought he could claim. JJ laughed to himself; the damn Kook should know better than to try to out-surf a Pogue. 

His eyes caught sight of you sound asleep and cuddled up on the oversized towel you insisted on grabbing for yourself at the thrift store. It was rare nowadays for you to sleep without someone by your side, especially at night. There were too many times when you’d crash on the hammock before the group came in and you woke someone up with a heavy scream. 

In the years JJ had known you, he’d never considered you to be weak or broken. You’d always been an example of strength in his eyes, someone who could persevere even the toughest of challenges. He knew it took a little bit of support now and then, but you were healing, and he was so, so proud of you. You’d shared such vulnerable moments with him, and though he wished he could take the pain away, he knew it was a process. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to share about his dad with you, so he understood the hesitancy you had when it came to unpacking what occurred while John B was gone. 

Usually, when you caught sight of Rafe, you shut down completely. JJ didn’t pry to ask what all happened when you were stuck with him, trusting that in time you would open up and share when you were comfortable. He was grateful that you felt comfortable enough with them around to sleep even though the person who’d taken so much from you was so close by. 

“Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”

Kiara’s excitement woke you up from the warmth of the sand, your eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the sunlight. You shifted to see where she was pointing, noticing the little movements of sand and the dark figures poking out. Pushing yourself to your feet, your friends scurried around to make a path in hopes of guiding the baby turtles safely toward the water.

You quickly tossed John B your towel to drag out the terrain evenly before taking a closer look at the small creatures, wishing you could pick one up but knowing better. “They’re so cute, what the fuck!”

“Make a turtle highway,” Sarah laughed beside you, the two of soaking up the once-in-a-lifetime event as Kie continued to build a path with the boys. Pulling out your phone, you snapped a few photos of the event, including one of Sarah pointing at the little turtles as they cruised by.

The sound of a revving engine pulled your attention away and toward where Topper’s supped-up Jeep was approaching. You frowned at the sight, not sure what his intentions were before you noticed Topper wasn’t even driving, Ruthie was.

“Hey!” Kiara stood up and waved her hands in the air, “Stop! There’s a hatch!”

“Topper, stop!” You yelled next, trying to point around the current path of the turtles who were moving as fast as their little bodies could take them. “Move!”

There was barely enough time for JJ and Kiara to throw themselves out of the way of the oncoming Jeep, thankfully missing the turtles and the near-death of the duo. You could hear Ruthie’s obnoxious laugh behind you as you faced the Kook group who apparently, found attempted murder funny.

“Hey!” You were shouting before you had a chance to think it through, feet stomping through the sand to carry you closer to where Kelce and his friends found it hysterical. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

Kelce continued to laugh as Topper’s Jeep revved once more, coming to a stop next to you. “Maybe next time don’t drop in on our surf,” Kelce’s voice dropped deeper as he approached you, gaze darkening when he was eye to eye with you.

“Fuck you, Kelce. Whatever ego you all have that you think entitles you to run over baby turtles is sick,” You spat, pushing against his chest causing his friends to ‘ooh’ at your action. Not only did they almost ruin the hatch, but Kie and JJ were inches from getting run over because of their stupidity.

“Turtles?” A voice next to you stopped you from spitting another nasty curse at the group now that Topper and Ruthie had rejoined. You looked over to see the brunette girl looking back at you, her gaze familiar before you caught Rafe watching over her shoulder. “There were turtles?”

The heartbreak in her voice surprised you. You figured anyone following Rafe around would have the same cruel attitude he did, but the empathy you weren’t expecting. 

“Go back to The Cut,” Ruthie interrupted whatever explanation you were considering giving. 

You turned to glare at her, closing the distance between the two of you as you poked at her chest. “You have five seconds before JJ gets over here and loses his shit on all of you, so, I’d watch your words, Ruthie, before they bite you in the ass. You’re a pathetic excuse for a human, and I hope you’re fucking ashamed of your actions.”

The group clearly hadn’t expected you, of all people, to come mouth off about their actions. Silence filled the group, the girl in front of you at a loss of words that someone actually dared put her in her place. 

“Look, we didn’t mean to-“

“Shut the fuck up, Topper!” You snapped at him, sick of his attempts to appear innocent despite all the damage he caused. “What happened to just here to surf, huh? Or is attempted murder always in the back of your mind?”

“Hey watch it-“

“Fucking leave, Pogue!”

“Get the hell out of here!”

“Hey, hey! Enough!” It was Rafe who put himself between you and Ruthie’s incoming hands. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified and took a step back, feet stumbling as you did so. You stared at him, horrified as his gaze met yours and stole all the air from your lungs. 

“Bitch can barely look him in the eye,” Ruthie laughed behind Rafe, but you made no move to correct her, terrified that even a breath in the wrong way would end your life. Rafe Cameron, of all people, to be the one to stop someone from harming you was a sick joke.

“Rafe?” The brunette girl next to him grabbed his arm, her eyes taking in your terrified expression. It was then that you recognized her. Sofia, the girl who you’d unfortunately come to know too well in the therapy sessions John B had forced you to attempt. The two of you had shared so much with each other but never once had you run into her since you stopped going months ago. She seemed to process who you were then too, a silent conversation running through her head as she mouthed your name. 

At that moment, someone ran up behind you, hands landing on your hips before you were moved into another set of arms. You caught sight of JJ stepping closer to Rafe, likely starting an argument that you could only hope didn’t end with a fight. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got ya.” John B turned you around to redirect your gaze, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as he started walking back toward the Twinkie. Everything turned to a haze, the adrenaline wearing off enough that you were heading into the inevitable anxiety attack. 

“If you come near her, or any one of us, ever again, I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ’s threat wasn’t a light one, and you were certain it would come back to bite him in the ass considering the Kooks would take it and run with it. 

Your heart was beating rapidly in your ears as John B pushed you into the passenger seat of the Twinkie, his hands grabbing both of your cheeks as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breath. Sarah’s grip on your hand was light as she climbed in the driver’s seat to sit on your other side. 

“What the hell was that?” Kiara’s shout echoed through the van, ringing in your ears and causing you to squeeze your eyes closed even harder. “What did you say to them?”

“Kie, shut up!” Sarah was yelling back at her, their voices blending together as you tucked your knees to your chest and curled into a ball. The shakiness was setting in and all you could do was beg your body to calm down and catch up to your actions.  

You forced your eyes to open, blinking as you managed to catch Sofia’s gaze across the sand. How you didn’t put the pieces together that’s who she was, you weren’t sure, but a pit grew in your stomach when you realized you’d spilled so much in those sessions that she was present for. Most, if not all of it, about Rafe. 

Air choked in your lungs, and aggressive coughs followed before JJ’s hand was against your chest to keep you upright. His fingers were gently against your jawline as he kept your head up in an attempt to help you breathe correctly.

“You’re alright, baby. Just keep breathing, yeah?”

John B had left your vision, same with Sarah, leaving you face to face with your boyfriend. He climbed over you to sit in the seat Sarah had once occupied and pulled your legs out to rest over his. The desire to curl up and cramp your muscles happened more than often and he’d picked up on that after a few anxiety attacks, recognizing your patterns and habits. 

JJ forced his hands in yours, keeping your fingers from stabbing your palms as you fought to take deep breaths, your body still on high alert even though your mind was coming back down. 

“There you go, good girl,” His encouragement made you smile slightly, knowing he was messing with you on purpose. Moving forward, you puddled into his lap without a word, and he welcomed you with open arms. Physical contact helped more in the recent moments, something you never expected considering you used to be so fearful of someone’s touch. 

JJ shuffled with you in his grasp, tugging the door closed to prevent unwelcome eyes from seeing you in such a vulnerable moment. John B was climbing in the driver seat shortly after, Sarah joining in the back before all doors were closed. Your breathing was slowing, muscles finding the forgiveness to loosen up on you but refused to move from JJ’s lap until your head was back in one piece.

“Kie?” You mumbled into his shoulder. The girl was clearly upset with you, but you didn’t have the capacity to question why.

“Walking,” John B replied simply as he started the old van. “Needs to clear her fuckin’ head.”

Sarah shushed him and you could hear her hand connect with his body gently, a grumbled protest coming from your brother in response. A comfortable silence filled the vehicle as John B drove away from the beach and started his course back home.

--

Exhaustion had set in on the drive, your body heavy in JJ’s hold as you listened to the occupants other than yourself share small chatter. Words weren’t enough to describe how grateful you were to your friends and brother for always supporting you no matter what. You knew it was a handful, hell, it wasn’t easy yourself, but the fact that they showed up time and time again said everything.

“Sorry about everything,” You apologized as John B parked the van in front of the house, ending your adventure for the day. “I’m trying to fix it and it just-”

“Hey,” Sarah interrupted your explanation as she popped her head over the seat. “No apologies. We’ve talked about that. Don’t apologize, ever.”

She left no room for argument and opened the back door to slide out. You looked at JJ and John B, both boys shrugged in agreement with her, making you roll your eyes. 

“Maybe we could rethink therapy?” John B suggested as he watched you rub your face to rid yourself of tear marks. You shook your head, giving no verbal answer.

Therapy had been shit for you. When you first came back from El Dorado, the hospital had taken one look at you, post-gunshot stitches, and deemed you unsound. You went with it for a while, going to the group sessions and spilling stories without any names. Then you realized how cruel people were when they started comparing trauma and you never went back again.

JJ’s grip loosened so you could climb out of the van, arm slinging over your shoulder to keep you close as he followed you. Sarah joined your side, pulling your hand in hers to swing back and forth as the four of you started heading toward the house where Pope had come out the side door.

“Yo!” JJ called in greeting. “What’d you find?”

Silence followed the question, shifting your attention to Pope instead of the ground. The shock on his face was evident and your gaze immediately dropped to the dark red smears on his shirt and hands. 

“Oh, shit.” Sarah was turning you into her instantly, both JJ and John B getting closer to Pope with an onslaught of questions. You kept your eyes on her, squeezing her hand tightly in attempt to keep your mind from getting involved.

“What happened?”

“Where’s Cleo?”

“She’s inside.” It was the only answer Pope had to give, and it sent JJ inside scrambling for the girl in question, fearing what he would find. John B grabbed ahold of Pope, steering him back to the house without any further questions before Sarah started to guide you along with the fresh blood out of view. 

Sarah looked at you expectantly as you made your way through the door into whatever chaos you’d subjected yourself to. The girl next to you stopped short and shifted your path into the kitchen, rerouting you from whatever she’d caught sight of before you could. JJ was already in there, pushing a water into your hand and lifting you onto the kitchen counter without another word.

To your relief, Cleo moved in shortly after, her expression stoic and unreadable before Sarah left your side and you could barely hear Kiara’s voice joining whatever conversation was happening a room over.

JJ placed his hands on each side of your body before kissing you softly, pulling your mind to him and only him. You hummed quietly, fingers tangling in his hair for a moment before he shifted away.

“Can you tell me?” You asked quietly, not wanted to push too far if Cleo was clearly so upset. 

He glanced at the girl behind you before answering, “Terrance’s body is in the other room.” 

JJ watched you as you processed the information, a million questions running through your mind that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Apparently, there was no time to, as JJ’s eyes caught on to something out the window behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the all too familiar Kildare County Sheriff’s Office truck, and your heart sank to your ass.

“J-“

“Upstairs,” He replied with no room for disagreement. “Our room or balcony, kay? I’ll send Sarah.”

You nodded, doing what he said without another question and bolted up the stairs with your heart pounding in your chest. Sarah’s footsteps were behind you moments later, the two of you finding sanctuary on the balcony outside your shared room with JJ. 

The sun was beginning to set and cast an orange lighting over the two of you as you piled into the hammock. Sarah leaned her head against yours just as another figure joined your group. Cleo fell on top of the two of you with a huff, both you and Sarah wrapping her up tightly into your cuddle puddle. 

And suddenly, all you could hear, was silence.

How the fuck did the cards fall this way every single time?

--

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ask me anything

[trashcanfanfics]

hi! this is my first time requesting but i saw you wanted to write for jason?

so how about jason cuddling with reader in his apartment, when dick or tim etc come to get him for a mission and catch him with the reader? i’m thinking a whisper-shouted squabble while they try not to wake the reader up lol 😭

could be a one shot or anything you like!

I love this

The window slowly opening caught Jason's attention. He went through a sequence where he could attack the intruder while keeping you sleeping so peacefully. The slight shifting stopped once he heard a familiar, annoying voice.

"Jason? Are you--Ow!" Tim's voice was cut off as a coaster hit his face. The teen glared at Jason and was about to cuss at him before he saw you and Jason cuddled on the couch. You shifted slightly and snuggled closer to him. Jason put an aggressive finger to his lips, his other hand on your lower back, glaring right back at Tim.

"What do you want?" He hissed. Red Robin looked between the two lovers and a grin slowly took over his face. One that meant Jason was never going to live this down.

"B needs your help." Tim whispered, hands up in a placating gestured. "Something's happening in Crime Alley--"

"Take care of it yourself." Jason's whisper made Tim pause. Jason? Not wanting to take care of things himself? Impossible. Was your influence on him really that strong? Tim looked at you again.

"You're giving us permission to enter your territory?" Tim put up an arm, gesturing to you, still snoozing, head on Jason's chest. "Because of them?" Jason's glare turned down right deadly. He picked up another coaster from the coffee table.

"Just get out already!" He scowled. You shifted, causing both of them to stop and hold their breath. You moved your hand slowly rubbing your eye before resting it by your head. They both relaxed. Until you spoke.

"Is there someone else here?" You lifted your head and looked at Tim. Jason let out an annoyed sigh, making you look at him with a frown. He felt his heart clench. "Why is there a vigilante in the living room?"

"I don't know but he's leaving." Jason looked pointedly at Tim. He held his hands up. You sat up and Jason grunted as you pushed on his chest to climb off of him. "Dammit." You ignored him, looking at Red Robin.

"Hey, look, I just came here to tell Re-Jason. Something." He turned towards the window to go. He put his hand up to the comm in his ear. "Red's busy." He listened to a response before looking at you, who was still looking at him with a tired confusion. He smirked at Jason who groaned and flopped his head back.

"Dammit." Jason got off the couch and put a hand on your shoulder, leaning towards you to whisper in your ear. "Hey, go to bed, I need to talk with him real quick." You leaned towards him, gently bonking your head against his, turned, kissed his cheek and left the room. Tim watched the whole thing with a shit eating grin.

"They're cute." Tim knew he was getting on Jason's last nerve. It was in the way he grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "Listen, I'll just tell them you got caught up with some goons or something." Jason sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Give me a few minutes." Jason entered the bedroom to see you curled up and snoring softly. His heart fluttered and he smiled. It was quickly wiped when he remembered he came in here to change into his gear. He sighed in annoyance and quickly threw on his armor.

"--and they were--oh, gotta go." Tim quickly shut up, noticing Jason coming back into the living room, Red Hood gear on. "You know you could just stay." Jason squinted his eyes at the teen.

"Whatever, let's just go." He pushed past Red Robin and climbed out the window onto the fire escape. Tim followed. They both grappled away, Tim going two buildings over while Jason only went one over.

"I'm here." He called into his comm. "What--" He was cut off.

"Who's the lucky person?" Dick's voice was full of smug joy. Jason glared through his helmet in the direction of Tim, who was now gone. He was going to actually kill the kid this time. Once he catches him.

[bunnyrafe]

𓊆ྀིDO YOU TRUST ME? — “rafe always has his motives.”𓊇ྀི

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 1k. dark / taboo themes ahead — please read at your own risk. ♥︎ gif credit f!reader, kook!reader, dark!rafe, oral (f. receiving), manipulation & persuasion, no protection, baby trapping.

For as long as you can remember you wanted your own family. A big house, a doting husband, a cute baby. All of it and more. Surely for a girl like you who was born spoiled and into a kook household it’s obtainable. Except your prince charming isn’t anything like your family imagined.

“But daddy, I love him!” You find yourself yelling more often than you’d like to admit despite how much your parents try to tell you he’s trouble. And unfortunately at the end of the day they’re right— Rafe Cameron is trouble.

Every inch of him. But every inch of him is also yours. Yours to cling to and lean on, and to daydream about. Your romance started with tipsy nights at the country club before it became loud house parties and drugs that would give your parents heart attacks; it was innocent before it was anything else. That’s what they don’t understand. That’s what you remember as you hang off of his arm, walking back to the truck with your little sundress swaying around your thighs.

You’re the sweetest girl he’s ever known, which is what saves you from most of his fury. It’s a match made in Heaven as far as you’re concerned, but it’s easy to be blinded when there’s constant wedding bells ringing in your head. 

“You’re so handsome, Rafe.” You babble the words out with a hand on either side of his face, looking at him as if he hung the stars in the sky just for you to marvel at. And he’s not exactly sure what he did to deserve someone like you in his life when he’s so twisted, yet he doesn’t dare to question it.

“Think so, baby?” He teases while laying you down on your plush bed. Your parents are out for the night— perfect opportunity to make up for all the times you wanted him but couldn’t have him right there with you.

You hum in response. The calm before the storm, as your breathing picks up in the next few moments as Rafe trails down your body. Leaving hot kisses all over your skin that have you melting against your duvet. You’re too easy to mess with. He can get your pretty head spinning in seconds. 

“I wanna… try something tonight, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your chest, nosing at the neckline of your dress and your cleavage, “do you trust me?” 

Of course you trust him— more than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s your first love, after all.

As expected you’re completely stripped in the following moments. Rafe’s face is buried between your thighs for what must be an hour once he’s had his fill of kissing and teasing you enough to have you whining. Your whines become mewls in no time once he pins your knees to your chest and dives right in. Murmuring nonsense about how he could eat your sweet cunt for the rest of his life, prompting your face to burn and your legs to twitch.

His mouth is arguably the most dangerous thing about him.

He’s slick in the way he talks and greedy in the way he eats, making a mess of your cunt as you witness it all with tears brimming at your lash line from the pleasure every time he circles your clit. With his chin covered in your arousal that’s all over his tongue, too. You can taste yourself on him once he finally travels up your body, scooping the overstimulated mess that you are up in his strong arms to cradle.

“Ready for me, baby?” He grunts into your mouth, “Think you can take it right now?”

You feel the it in question pressing up on the plushness of your thigh through his jeans. The heat in your stomach nearly burns. Your hips buck in anticipation, and you feel Rafe grin against your cheek while you huff out a pathetic noise. And finally, you understand what he meant— what he wants to try— when he doesn’t bother to grab a condom after unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock.

“Rafey,” you begin, because you may be a bit hazy but you’re not that gone yet.

“Shhh, shhh. It’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he coaxes, pressing his forehead to yours while he stares into your glossy eyes. His own seems darker, something beyond lust pooling in his irises, “lemme feel this pretty pussy properly…”

You can’t really argue with that. Especially when you feel so empty, when there’s a dull ache between your thighs. You need him. And the “thank you, baby” he grunts out while he spreads your folds with the tip of his cock before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips makes it all worth it.

Along with the way he holds your waist as he fucks you, pressing sloppy kisses to your calves as your knees are hooked over his shoulders— “My pretty girl,” he groans down at you, watching your tits bounce in time with his thrusts while you struggle to say anything and claw at his forearms with baby pink nails. 

You’re creaming all over him, and the sight and feel of it all is even better now that there isn’t a condom in his fuckin’ way, as he says. It’s borderline numbing for both of you every time he fucks back into you, grinding your hips up against him with the grip he has on you in one swift movement each time. You can feel him so deep. He’s ruining your cunt for anyone else, not that they’d ever have a chance.

Because most importantly he’s going to make sure that you’re always by his side, and that your parents and his own will finally take him seriously. If he has to give you a baby to do that, then so be it— Rafe always has his motives.

The sun shines through your windows. However you’re not feeling very bright as Rafe looms over you, staring down at the pregnancy test in your lap. You sniffle not once but twice while wishing those two red lines would just go away.

That they would become one.

Rafe’s fingers find themselves tucked under your chin, tilting your head upwards so you’ll finally look at him. 

“You should be grateful, y’know…” He says simply, “I gave you what you always wanted.”

©BUNNYRAFE 2024

[lizardmonet]

okay so i actually think this belief goes against the Bible. God tells humans to take care of creation, He literally made us for that reason. the current western christian interpretation is not biblical. we’re supposed to be striving to make life on this earth as close to the ideal redeemed creation that’s promised to come about someday. God doesn’t hate the earth, when He made it He called it good. all bad things that have happened to it are the result of human actions. Christians should be the ones advocating for clean energy and less waste and the betterment of the environment.

i’m sorry so many fail to see this. just know there are christians who care and are trying but their voices are drowned out by the others.

(also i’m not trying to have a whole debate about religion. i just wanted to clarify that the popular christian stance is misguided at best and anti-biblical at worst)

christianity is just a smear campaign on nature no i will not elaborate