#to try and tell people to go against their morals and do something that they know ain’t right to them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

batsplat · 5 months ago

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casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

#i will say idm getting asks like this AT ALL but i do hope that's not like. the only bit of the podcast people are paying attention to #my thing with sepang 2015 takes is that like... when's the last time anyone has said anything genuinely interesting about that event #which yes big words from the feud blogger... but in fairness a lot of the sepang 2015 stuff is from old notes. that's my excuse idc #but that's kinda the thing... i feel like i haven't really had a new original thought about the whole drama for three plus years #u do kinda run out. basically the takes say more about the person saying them than about the actual event at this point #which. yeah. casey's comments on sepang '15 are primarily interesting in what they tell you about how he feels towards valentino #mind u he's actually quite nice about valentino in this one? casey call him let's finally organise that dinner #heretic tag #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #oh casey does go on another spiel against riders who win at all costs. ships that passed in the night of feuds i always say #also he gets the age he enters the premier class at wrong. i held myself back in the last post from pointing this out for tonal reasons #but if people want my podcast hot takes. i do simply have to mention it. just to set the record straight here #'they battle for podium places after 2009' genuinely. twice. like the alien era giveth but a lot of the time it really does just taketh #somewhat ironically casey wins the duel when he's on the shitty ducati and vale wins the duel when he's on the even shittier ducati #whatever that tells you idk #casey was always promising the laguna rematch would've gone differently and I love that conceptually but also we just don't know #he was like next time I WON'T play nice and it's like?? omg what does that look like. casey what were you cooking #for ethical reasons it's probably fine but for character arc reasons it's objectively ass that casey ended up being able to do all his -#- racing in a way he was entirely comfortable with for his second title in 2011. like it's just a complete waste of a year #you have this whole thing building for four years and then 2010 comes along and it's like. well that's enough narrative intrigue now! <3 #also casey/jorge are fundamentally too interesting as individuals to have had such an obscenely boring on-track rivalry and yet here we are #it KILLS me because if you rearranged it and made valentino's dogshit ducati years like. 2009 or something #and do a straight title fight between jorge and casey THEN I genuinely think it would've been way more interesting #the problem with valentino is that he is fundamentally the WORST imaginable character you could invent to be casey's foil #literally everything about valentino could have been designed to be a casey-specific nightmare #but unfortunately that also makes him objectively the most interesting rival casey could have gotten #like morally it's on the edge. but narratively? literally could not have gotten a better villain in casey's story #constantly dancing on this faustian line of having to imitate valentino to beat him while trying not to lose yourself... juicy

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doublel27 · 2 days ago

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Thank you for these excellent additions. Mine was not as organized as you added in even more of what I saw/felt.

I keep going back to the first two episodes, which I feel lay out this problem for us pretty clearly.

Joke on his own has been isolated in his own family. He sees the structures of power and privilege for what they are because while he’s grown up within them he’s denied access because he’s “not as smart” and “wasting his life.” And he takes on a mantle of justice as Joker. He steals only from the wealthy and the terrible who exploit others. He has a moral code but it doesn’t actually help anyone. As he will tell Hoy and Tattoo the first time they ask him to pull a heist with them, he works alone.

Then he meets young Jack. Jack when we meet him is full of love for his community. He has dreams of using a collective education center to better the opportunities for the neighborhood and the villagers that are cut off to him. It’s that dream and that optimism and that love for his community that draws Joke in to Jack and makes him want to help him with the bank heist. Joke’s mission to do something now has a focus. And he helps.

But the help is false and based on a lie and because Joke isn’t working with Jack. He’s doing this for him. Joke isn’t part of the community at this point but a benevolent benefactor. And that benevolence turns on them when the police go after Jack.

And it’s then that Joke makes his first actual sacrifice, in order to attempt to save Jack, by confessing to his crimes, taking responsibility and going to prison in hopes that Jack and his dream can be saved.

But Jack is left in a whole different prison of Boss’s making. Because Boss doesn’t just refuse to be in community with the neighborhood and the villagers, he actively works to isolate them. In holding things that people value personally, he keeps the villagers focused on themselves. He does this with all the men that work for him but particularly with Jack, Hope and Save who all do wild things for him at various points because of what he holds over them.

Jack still tries to help the community but to his own detriment and alone. Ama has to remind him to take care of himself as well. To not just give himself away totally and by himself.

When Joke gets out of prison and finds this cold, isolated Jack, Joke is understandably heartbroken. It was Jack’s deep love and commitment to his community that Joke first fell in love with. He’s devastated to find that man is gone.

They told us from the start where this story was going. But then as @respectthepetty laid out, this is a version of Journey to the West (which I can’t unsee now) and if you enjoy other Journey to the West retellings (like One Piece) then the continue commitment to community and working together to face down what feel like insurmountable odds against a system designed to tear you apart is part of the journey to bettering yourself and others.

The focus on community as the answer really comes from Ama, Toi Ting, Hoy and Auntie Nang. They’re the ones that end up holding the through line even when other characters get lost.

If you were looking for a revenge narrative, this could never actually be that because that was Boss’s storyline all along. He was the one on a revenge track and we saw how far it took him. His need to gain power for vengeance had him playing the game the Four Horsemen wanted him to all along. Even his sister begging him to try a different way could not sway him.

Also, a very interesting through-line that exists as much about the scars suicide leaves and that there is no actual atonement in martyrdom.

That’s why the show ends in their community center with everyone present and being in community. Because that’s how they managed to save themselves. And they need to remain in community because it’s the only way to survive the games of the four horsemen.

At the end of the day, Jack & Joker was a story about turning to community instead of going solo. It was about returning Jack to his original dreams of uplifting his community. It was about Joke uncovering what it means to be in community when his family was never in community with him so he didn’t know.

It took everyone truly banding together to make sure they all made it out alive. Any time our motley crew of heroes tried to go it alone or make an individual plan work, it failed.

Aran was able to rally the villagers to community in the end. And it helped.

Ultimately, it was vindictiveness and bitterness that lead Boss to turn on the villagers. Instead of being in community, Boss turned on the villagers like the Four Horsemen did to his own family. While Nang built community at her shrine, Boss wrecked community wherever he went. He wanted to amass power to take down The Four Horsemen. He was so laser focused, so desperate, he missed the game they were playing with him all along.

And isn’t that too often the tragedy. We’re so focused on winning we miss the game is rigged and we can’t go solo.

#I loved Jack and Joker #but it is very much a narrative for a collectivist mindset instead of an individualistic one #collectivist community and mutual aid are the only way forward #jack & joker #jack & joker: u steal my heart!

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area51-escapee · 6 months ago

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I really, really hate the fact that people are using minorities within the U.S. to try and guilt people into voting for Biden. I hate that when you criticize him or just state you won’t vote for him people always want to come back with “oh so you hate minorities? You hate transgender people? You think kids belong in cages?????”. Don’t you fucking dare use the suffering of actual people to try and garner support for that man, you don’t get to just ignore that immigrants are still being detained at the border, that he decided to continue with the fucking wall, that immigrants, even U.S. born Latinos are still being treated as fucking criminals. You don’t get to ignore that he’s done nothing to protect the transgender community from absolutely vile transphobic laws, you don’t get to ignore the suffering of these communities until it’s suddenly convenient for you. Police brutality has only gotten worse, nobody can afford to fucking live, Covid is still killing and disabling people every fucking day, you can’t just ignore these things because Biden is president. Nobody thinks Trump is going to be “better”, but we recognize that Biden is fucking wretched both domestically and internationally, we recognize that things are already so fucking bad it’s going to be real hard to make anything worse, sometimes it feels like the only thing that’ll end up changing if Trump wins the election is that you fuckers will suddenly speak up about all these issues again just because you can blame it solely on Trump now.

#vent tw #current events #I’m just so fucking angry #I’m transgender. in Texas #I am mexican I have a large Mexican side of my family #I fucking hate that these two groups especially are suddenly being brought up just to guilt trip people #people like me don’t fucking exist as hypotheticals for y’all to use as you see fit #we’re real fucking people who have been effected negatively by both trump AND Biden #we have our own fucking thoughts and opinions #and while I can’t speak for nobody but myself #I can say that I’m not so fucking selfish as to place the illusion of safety above supporting victims of a genocide #I know that y’all in your blue states are suddenly real scared of facing what us red state transgenders have to experience #but we’ve been dealing with this the whole time. we ain’t gotten to sit back and relax in a fucking ‘safe haven’ state #but my rights should not come at the cost of other people’s lives. I don’t want them to. and I don’t want my identity and my personhood used #to try and tell people to go against their morals and do something that they know ain’t right to them #I’m just. angry. I’m so angry

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soshinysochrome · 2 months ago

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Pre-cut fruit/veggies as an accommodation

I'm going to go on a rant that's been building up for a long time but needs to be said.

I just watched a video from How To ADHD where they finally articulated what I've been trying to explain to people for a long time; that buying pre-cut fruit and veggies is an accommodation.

Because holy shit, do people get angry at people who buy things pre-cut, like it's some kind of moral failing deserving of the vitriol and abuse that it gets. And it always comes complete with people smugly declaring that they take the time to cut their fruit and veg themselves, like somehow that makes them better than people who don't.

Lets get something absolutely clear.

Yes, we know it would be cheaper to buy produce and cut it up ourselves. Yes, we know that the added packaging is more wasteful. And we know that other people are judging us for it.

But here's the thing, starting with the fact that "taking the easy way" is not a moral failing:

Pre-cut produce is an accommodation.

I have ADHD, depression and seasonal affective disorder (seasonal depression). One of these by themselves makes taking care of myself difficult enough, but very rarely am I battling just one of these conditions at a time. And when it comes to cooking or preparing food, my options are very often either to spend a bit more to buy pre-cut fruit or veg, or not eat fruit/veg at all. Because if I buy produce I have to prep myself, at least one of three things will happen: 1) I'm going to forget it exists until it starts to make the fridge stink and it has to be thrown away. 2) I'm going to see it every time I open the fridge, feel bad that I can't bring myself to prepare it, worsening my executive dysfunction and depression, and making it even less likely I ever will prepare it. 3) I'm going to buy it, put it in my fridge, remember that it's there and beat myself up until it expires for being unable to bring myself to prepare it.

When people rail against those who buy pre-cut, what those of us who rely on it hear is that you don't think we deserve to eat healthily because we can't do it ourselves. Which sounds about as absurd as telling someone with glasses that they don't deserve to wear those glasses because they can't see without them.

Rant over. Leave people who buy pre-cut alone.

#accommodation #disabilities #neurodivergent #chronic pain #chronic illness #mental illness #pre-cut #pre-cut produce #pre-cut fruit #pre-cut veg

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suhkusa · 4 months ago

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THE KISS BET.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Your friends bet you to kiss Katsuki Bakugou. Fortunately for you, they’re offering you $500 for it. Unfortunately for you, the two of you absolutely hate each other.

CW. third year, angst to fluff, light hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mature humor, feelings, language

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. enjoy :3

You and your group of friends had a running gig. Bets.

The group would bet one person to do something, on a scale from normal to outrageous, and that person’s turn wouldn’t end until they complete that bet. Of course, depending on how crazy the bet is, everyone would put in some amount of money.

The most you’d gotten was $100 total from accepting a date from creep in the business class. Worst date of your life, but Jirou felt bad so she gave you an extra $50.

As the lot of you gather around the campfire, everyone offers up their money to Mina who had just done her bet to put laxatives in Kirishima’s drink. There were a lot of questions about the morality of it, but you ignored it and gave her a crisp $20.

“Y/N~ it’s your turn!” Ochako gleed.

You roll your eyes, “I feel like I just did my other bet, which by the way was shit,” the girls laugh at your words. “I feel like all of you get the easier ones,”

“Easy? I had to kiss Monoma, do you know how hard that was? He knows I’m lesbian so imagine how hard that was for me to convince him,” Yaoyorozu sighs with a palm to her face.

“Oh, whatever,” Mina says with a clap of her hands, “You want a hard one, Y/N?”

“I mean that’s the whole point of paying each other to do bets, they’re supposed to be hard,”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Mina smirks before standing up and pointing at you.

“I bet you $100,” your ears perk up.

“-to kiss–,” your eyes widen but listen nonetheless.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” your world falls apart.

“Mina, no,”

“Y/N, yes,” she jumps up and down, “It’s too late, I already said it,”

All the other girls are hooting and hollering, but you just sit there in silence as you stare at the flames. Are you really going to try this?

As you consider your options the other girls start placing their bet offerings.

“$75 from me,” Tsuyu calls out.

Then from Hagakure, “$50,”

“$150,” from none other than Yaoyorozu.

“I guess I’ll put in $80,” Jirou smiles at your misery.

“Hmm, I’ll even it out with $45, so $500 flat for you, Y/N,” Ochako smiles.

$500?!? You’d be outright stupid to deny such a big amount of money. But you’d even stupider to think Katsuki Bakugou would kiss you of all people.

“I think that’s impossible,” you whine as the other girls poke fun at you.

“I guess only time will tell,” Mina grabs your hands and smiles, “Good luck, Y/N,”

—

You can hear the rambunctiousness of your class before you walk in. When you walk through the doors, your eyes scan the class before your eyes lock in on Katsuki Bakugou. You groan with a roll of your eyes before stomping your way towards him.

“Hey, Katsuki,” you stare down at him, “You want to do me a favor,”

“For you? I rather eat shit,” he grumbles as he meets your gaze.

“You’re a freak,” you already knew this was going to be hard, “Please,”

“Mm, depends, what’s in it for me?”

“I guess you’ll find out,” you say. “Kiss me,”

It feels like the class goes silent as the two of you continue to just stare at each other. He opens his mouth then closes it.

“You– The fuck?�� His eyes are scattering as the words continue to process through his mind, “What a weirdo, hell no,” then he’s pushing himself out of his seat and making his way to the door.

“You know class starts in 5 minutes right?” you call to him.

“Fuck off,” he grunts as he shuts the door behind him.

Yep, definitely hard.

—

The next time you bother Bakugou for a kiss is when the two of you are paired up for combat training. Much against his will.

“Katsuki~” you call out as you dodge another blow from him. “You can’t avoid me forever,”

“Yes-” another explosion, “I can,”

You go on the offense as you continue, “Just a peck, please. I’m a good kisser, I promise,”

“You’re shit,” he’s grumbling between dodges of your attacks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you send him a wink before getting a hit on him.

Bakugou groans, about to send another remark, when the training ends with a blow of a whistle.

The two of you meet eyes one last time, “Think it over, kay?” you smile before walking away.

—

Knock, knock.

You stand at Bakugou’s door.

“Go away, perv,”

“Aw, how did you know it was me? You missed me?”

“I can just tell by the stench,”

You laugh a little at his words, “Please, let me explain to you and maybe you’ll reconsider,”

You can hear footsteps, and you smile. When he opens the door he’s adorned in his classic black tank and some sweats.

“You should put some clothes on, perv,” you mock. “Anyways, it was a bet from my friends and there’s $500 on the line, so if you would just–”

“I don’t kiss just anyone, princess,” the nickname causes you to fluster, but you shake it off as he continues, “You gotta earn it,”

He’s got a stupid smirk on his face, and you didn’t even realize it but he’s definitely leaning closer to you. It’s sending butterflies– well maybe more like moths– into your stomach.

“What the– You’re definitely the pervert. I’m just going to ask to call it off,” you fake gag, “Later, loser,”

“You’ll be back, nerd,”

You internally groan as you hear him shut the door, ignoring the intense heartbeat in your chest.

—

“No,” Mina says.

“What?! I told you it’s impossible,” you argue, all of your friends on the other side of the argument.

“No it’s not, he said you had to earn it right?” Mina retorts, “So obviously there’s a way, you’re just stubborn,”

“You’re really not asking me to… You guys are crazy. Please, please, I’ll take anyone else, anything else,”

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s the rules,” Tsuyu looks at you with pity.

“He hates me and I hate him! That’s all there is to it. It’s not going to happen,”

“Why do you guys even hate each other? It’s our third year, get over it already,” Jirou teases.

“Because he’s a dick and I refuse to let him walk all over me! I just cursed him out one time for calling me weak. He’s the one who holds grudges because of his fragile, little heart,”

“You should’ve known he’d hold that against you, but I honestly doubt he hates you because of that,” Mina says. “He probably thought you looked hot,” she laughs.

Heat rushes to the tips of your eyes, “Whatever, all of you are weirdos. But anyways-”

“No, Y/N,” Mina states, end of subject.

“You all just want me to kill myself,” you groan as you sink into the couch. “Whatever, but I’m going to force all of you to double your offering if I actually do this shit,”

The girls cheer. You cry inside. Anything for money, you guess.

—

It seems like the universe heard about the predicament you were in, because it felt like you were suddenly around him more often ever since the bet had been set.

“You know, I don’t want to be on patrol with you either,” you grumble, kicking at rocks as the two of you walk up and down the roads of the dorms.

“Glad we agree,”

Silence washes over you both.

“Why don’t you want to kiss me? Am I ugly or something?” you ask, but it definitely comes off sadder than you intend.

“Don’t get all insecure because you don’t get a stupid kiss,” he looks the opposite direction of yours, “You know damn well you’re not ugly, so don’t piss me off,”

He had a strange way of saying stuff.

“Aw, you love me, don’t you?” you tease, poking at his arm.

“Ah you dumbass, pay attention,” you snap back into place with a laugh, “‘M just saying you’re better looking than some of these extras,”

You don’t know what to say in response to his words. Because they were surprisingly very sweet.

Realizing he had said too much, he changes the subject. “Let’s go this way,”

You follow him with a nod.

There was definitely a certain type of tension lingering that the two of you walked in near silence for the rest of the patrol.

You definitely were not repeating back his words in your head over and over again for the rest of the patrol. And Katsuki Bakugou was definitely not turning red because of what he said earlier. Definitely not.

—

After that patrol, things seemed to sort of shift between the two of you. And to say it was scary was an understatement.

Conversations wouldn’t always start off with the two of you insulting or cursing each other out. There’d be a hey or hello. If you guys saw each other in passing, he’d greet you with a nod of his head. Him being anything but passive aggressive towards you was terrifying because it was so not him.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out to you, you groan as you put your pencil down.

“I’m studying, what do you want, Katsuki?”

“Come with me to the movies after school today,” it’s not really a question, more like a command.

You put your hands to your mouth in fake(?) excitement, “You’re asking me on a date?! So kind, Katsuki,”

“It’s not a date, idiot. I’m going with Ei and Denki later, they’re bringing Jirou and Mina. They were teasing me for not bringing anyone, so come,”

“If I don’t?” you muse.

“Be there or be square, nerd,” he doesn’t take your bait, but you can tell he’d prefer it if you go. He walks away before you can respond.

Well, you guess you have plans later.

;;;

You meet up with the lot of them at the allotted time. The group walks together, and you thank God your friends have a questionable taste in men so you wouldn’t be stuck with some randos. But you also have half a mind to curse them out for leaving you to fend for yourself when you all arrive at the theater.

They left you with no choice but to sit with Bakugou. Part of you really hates it, but not as much as you hate the rate at which your heart beats.

For the most part, the two of you just sit there in awkwardness. The other couples indulge in that lovey dovey shit, and it makes you feel out of place. You zone out and get into your head. Was there a motive in asking you to come out here? He could’ve invited like… Midoriya… or Ochako… Or anyone, really. But, you? Does he like you? Or were you his last option to invite? Your head hurts from overthinking.

Your hand rests in your lap, picking at the material of your pants. At least that’s what it was doing. Until it happened.

From the corner of your eye, you watch as Bakugou slid his hand into yours. His fingers finding a comfortable place between your own. You release a deep breath when you realize you were holding your breath. Is he out of his fucking mind?

Despite your efforts to try and justify how much you absolutely hate it. You didn’t even try to stop him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t let his hand go. And even as the movie ended, you actually felt sad when he slid his hand away.

The cool air of the night shocked you a bit when all of you made it outside.

“We were thinking of grabbing a bite, did you guys want to come?” Mina exclaims.

“Ooh, that sounds good, are you down, Jirou?”

“Sure, and you guys?” they all look at you.

“I- I have a stomach ache… Butter fucks with my stomach really bad,” the excuse is kind of weak, but still holds up as they all nod in understanding.

“I can walk you to the dorm,” Bakugou offers, and you don’t really give him a yes or no, he just follows you.

Kirishima and Mina whistle and holler as the two of you part ways with the rest of them.

Part of you regrets making up some stupid lie to go home. Because this was way more awkward than getting free pizza.

The two of you are right by each other as you walk in silence towards the dorm. You wait. And wait. Wait for him to bring it up. Why did he do that? Why did he grab your hand? Was it all a front?

Why is he treating you so well?

Even as he drops you off at your room, he says nothing. Just a simple “Goodnight,” before he’s making his way to the elevator.

What an asshole.

—

So you take the initiative. The initiative in ignoring him. You weren’t some casual fling. Fuck the bet, fuck him.

When you saw him making his way towards you, you were quick to get up and rush out of the classroom. When he nodded your directions in passing, it was easy to just walk past and not acknowledge him. Whatever there was between you and him, was gone. Whatever “it” was, exactly.

But you were okay. You guess. You were down $500 or $1000, but whatever. That game was bullshit anyways. You always got the worst bets. You kind of felt bad that you were the end of it, though.

It was easy to avoid him. That’s what you thought. At least until one week later, you found yourself cornered by your dorm room with nowhere to go.

“What the fuck is up with you?” he’s angry, you’d be stupid if you thought otherwise.

You cross your arms and avoid his intense gaze, “Whatever do you mean?”

He’s getting closer, and a tiny, like miniscule, part of you finds angry-him hot. “You know what the hell I mean, you’ve been avoiding me,”

“Nuh uh,” you retort, still avoiding the subject at hand. “I’ve just been busy, sorry,”

“Like hell, Racoon Eyes said you’ve been in your dorm room everyday, so try again, asshat,”

Fucking Mina.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you poke at his chest, “Now get out of my way before I beat your ass,”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he’s smiling with mockery.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like to be touched by me, you little virgin,” you inspect your nails in nonchalance, “Too bad, so sad, now move,”

“No, not until you answer me,” he’s a bit more serious now, you can sense it in his tone.

You groan, “Fine, not until you answer me, though. Why the fuck did you hold my hand and act like it didn’t happen? Am I like a joke to you?”

He straightens up and his eyes widen. He looks to the side, then back at you.

“You’re fuckin’ smart, why don’t you take a guess?”

“You’re not a baby, why don’t you use your words?”

You got him there.

“Maybe ‘cuz I like you, or something, idiot,”

You laugh. Laugh. Because he really thought you’d believe a stupid joke like that.

“You’re funny, but seriously, why did–”

A kiss. Katsuki Bakugou has always been known for his speed and his wit. But now you see it more than ever. As he steals a kiss from you. It happens faster than you’re able to even realize you’re leaning into it.

When the two of you part, it’s tense again. You don’t know if you should say something but he takes that choice from you.

“You think that was funny?” he asks.

“Well- no, but–”

“No buts, that’s that,”

“I didn’t even say I like you back! What if I didn’t-”

“Oh, so you do?” you jump up in realization you fumbled your words. “Good to know, princess,”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. How was I supposed to know you liked me? You’re such an asshole, you know?”

“Really? Because this asshole just got you some cash,” he laughs referring to the bet, “But y’know, I don’t let just anyone call me Katsuki,”

You grit your teeth before throwing a punch at his arm, “Annoying! Annoying, so annoying,”

Another hearty laugh escapes from his lips as he pulls you into a hug. You didn’t even know Bakugou gave hugs. But you don’t mind it.

“You’re such a pervert, I bet you’ve been looking forward to that kiss,” he teases.

“Yeah? Well you’re a pervert for even kissing me in the first place,”

—

YOU: pay up bitches

YOU: i’m talking double btw

[164 new notifications]

You were rich and in love. What more could you ask for?

#bnha angst #bakugou angst #bakugo angst #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader angst #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha angst #raeworks

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foone · 2 months ago

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Tumblr crashed and killed my post and I'm too lazy to go find what I was reblogging, but:

You need to understand that there is a type of right-wing person who is (relatively) sex positive.

You need to understand this because it explains some "contradictions" but more importantly so that you won't assume someone isn't wildly right wing just because they're sex-positive. These people still have horribly opinions on a lot of things, including sexual ones. They just don't think it's Inherently Wrong to do "weird stuff" in the bedroom.

I always describe this viewpoint as "it's okay to get freaky, but don't be a freak".

They're making a distinction between things you DO and things you ARE. They hate the latter, and think the former is fine.

This is a big part of why you get "confusing" things like right-wingers who are against trans people but those same people might enjoy crossdressing during sex. They're fine with wearing girls clothes while they get pegged, but don't think you should be allowed to go by she/her in the workplace if you're AMAB. Crossdressing is a thing you do. Being trans is something you are.

And the post I was trying to reply to was about swingers disliking polyamorous people: it's the same thing. Swinging is a thing you do: they're having freaky sex. What's wrong with that?

But polyamory? Having multiple partners at the same time, even when you're not fucking at the moment? That sounds like something you are.

Basically it seems to be the worldview of people who are sex-positive (to an extent! I don't want to overstate their positivity) in their personal life, but are against "the decay of society".

They're basically conservatives nostalgic for an imagined world where everyone has 1950s social roles in public, but can get up to whatever weird sex stuff they want behind closed doors.

I don't know how much this kind of few point is due to libertarian influence on these kinds of right wingers (where they've internalized the "the government shouldn't tell me what to do" part of the ideology, but still think "the government should tell those weirdos to get cut it out" is fine), or how much this is because of the rise of 4chan as an alt-right meeting spot, and that site was (and still is) partially a porn site.

It's slightly hard to argue that all sex besides married missionary for procreation is immoral when you're one click away from threads full of anal-toy-howtos and pregnant "dickgirl" hentai. (Not that they don't try, sometimes)

Just keep the fact that these people exist in mind: it'll better explain some of the strange opinions you sometimes see online.

It's probably also a major driving force behind Bidoof's law. They can easily argue against something innocuous like polyamory or trans people while filling their own timeline to with images of trans orgies, because they think Doing Sex Stuff is morally neutral, but Being Stuff is inherently wrong. You can cross dress or swing, that's fine, whatever gets your rocks off. But you can't be trans or be poly. That's wrong, apparently.

(This is probably also South Park's fault but I'm not an expert on that show so I'll not try to explain)

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creatingblackcharacters · 2 months ago

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"Calling Out Racists? Help!"

(shout out to the situation sender who's chosen to remain anonymous!)

NOTE: People of color, if you feel that your efforts would be in vain or cause more pain than it's worth, I fully respect not doing it. I've been there, and tbh I usually don't. But white netizens, I expect boots on the ground. Racism festers when no one does anything about it.

So, it's finally happened! You've come face to face with antiblackness in your fandom space. You never thought it could be this bad! Naturally YOU don't condone this behavior, so you take steps to remove yourself from this person.

However! Your friends and other fans are still happily sharing from someone that you KNOW is capable of this. Would they still be comfortable knowing they're yapping amongst racists? And then you wonder- should I tell everyone about them? I mean, surely everyone should know?

Thus we've come to the decision:

The Callout

In my honest opinion, callouts are morally neutral. When used to reveal consistent harmful beliefs, intentions, and behaviors to other people, usually of marginalized identities, I think they're critical. Our safety and humanity matters far more than someone's internet fame. If I can't stop someone from being a racist, I at least don't want their vitriol on my dash, and I ALSO don't want people thinking I agree! Racism shouldn't be tolerated at all, but unfortunately, many an antiblack racist has a popular following and will not be removed. Anything less overt than a slur like the example above is more often than not, not a dealbreaker for many.

On the other hand, when it is maliciously weaponized to drag someone down on nothing but hearsay and rumor, it can be devastating. It has often been used as retaliation against those very same marginalized peoples to shut down discussions of racism and other forms of bigotry. In my opinion, you should not do these sorts of things when you don't have any solid proof or an actual education on what you're talking about. Period.

I say that all to say, be intentional. Use your discernment and some critical thinking.

How Ice Deals With It

Let's say you see something that concerns you. First, you need to pay attention to if other Black fans have noted this person's behavior. Has it been previously noticed, have they seen dogwhistles you've completely missed? Keep in mind as well, antiblackness does not have to come from a white person. Don't let "I'm brown" fool you.

If you're confident: confront the person on the particular issue you've noticed.

‼️‼️‼️ For the maintenance of your mental health, you CANNOT go into this expecting to change someone's mind and behavior. If you do, 9/10 you will face demoralization. You cannot walk into these thinking they care. Most people don't, and will deny the harm of their behavior. It sucks, but it's the truth. Change your perspective. The only goal you need to have is pointing out the harm done, so that this person loses the excuse to be racist out of "ignorance". Once you've spoken up, ball's now in their court.

Confrontation doesn't have to be negative! It can be as simple as "hey, what you said was not okay, here's why, and I hope that you can learn from this to do better for yourself and for your fans." Simple, to the point.

‼️Keep in mind, from Fans of Color: the private confrontation is a sign that we're trying to give you a chance to do right. Everyone's not going to receive that grace, nor do I expect every fan of color to offer it. It might just be up with you and your racism that day. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I would take the chance if offered.‼️

We're going to go two routes here.

1) It works

If it works, then what should come next is 1) a full acknowledgment of the violence and harm, 2) visible steps to ameliorate that harm, and 3) an apology to those harmed.

It doesn't have to be a complex apology (unless the situation itself was that large). But it has to be genuine and the change needs to be seen.

Very often you'll see apologies for antiblackness... To white fans. You cannot apologize for your actions to people who were not harmed by them, because they are not the ones with the right to accept the apology!!!! It's not a real apology. They've just covered for being exposed, is all. Be willing to hold each other accountable!

2) It doesn't work

This might still happen after the "it works", btw! Some people genuinely just want the appearance of progressiveness.

Here's where it gets gritty and you'll experience the most discomfort, I'm just being honest:

They might fucking suck!

They might suck, they might make it a point to share with their followers that you suck, and those same followers might also suck! You know how they sound? Like those people who fought for rapist Brock Turner because "he had a good future and this shouldn't ruin it". Yeah.

Recognize that this backlash you may experience from strangers is not coming just from their need to be entertained, but from a realization that if their fave is antiblack and they agree, then THEY are being antiblack too.

That acute pain you're feeling from this effort- you're now feeling a part of the chronic pain that is being a Black fan! And if you're white, you just temporarily sacrificed your whiteness to defend what was right, and now you are seeing a piece what that whiteness shields you from. Idk how else to put it.

Now what?

Well first, this shouldn't make you go "oh well there's no point in fighting racism bc they're so mean." Why do you want to identify with the people who just acted like that lmao. Antiracism is hard, but the right thing isn't always easy. Stand up and dust yourself off, soldier.

Take the steps to protect yourself. That might be a break from socials to decompress. Block people as necessary, use the tag blocker thing.

Recognize that you are not in the wrong for wanting this harm to be accounted for. If this person didn't want to be seen as a willful racist, they should have chosen to do better. They didn't want to, they chose to triple down on their racism, which they are now aware of doing! They just don't care. And that's not within your control. They wanna be a racist, let them be treated like one!

"Curate your space" as they say, and recognize that antiblackness is going to have you potentially removing folks you thought were cool left and right. You might see some people close to you show their true colors. It's time to make some tough personal decisions. I can't walk you through that. But I don't want to be around people who treat antiblackness with apathy, because birds of a feather... 👀

I obviously didn't cover every single scenario here. And this is only *my* way of dealing with these things (if I do at all, anymore). Some folks may go about it differently. But yeah, in summary, go in to point the racism out, and don't let the response determine your self value. 👍🏾

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips #antiblackness

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7thedisasterdyke · 3 months ago

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FUCKING STOP IT

I've been seeing an influx of posts trying to tell you not to vote Harris. Please, for the love of fuck, DO NOT LISTEN TO THEM. If you are making these posts out of some sense of morality or honor, PLEASE STOP.

Look, I get it. I live in the heart of the empire. It sickens me to my core to see the US funding genocide... again.

You Will Not Be Able To Stop It. You absolutely will never again be able to even try to stop it if Trump wins.

THERE IS ONLY ONE FEASIBLE OPTION AGAINST TRUMP, AND THAT IS HARRIS.

Everyone talking about "Blue MAGA" this and "They're the leopards-eating-faces party too" that... You're forgetting something.

Under Trump, everyone who wants positive change? Everyone who wants to put up a fight and try to change the empire?

They'll all go down swinging.

When everyone who's willing to fight goes down swinging, who will be left to fight?

If Trump wins, I and many others, many of whom will have been community organizers, will have to leave the country for our own safety. Censorship laws will be put in place regardless of "free speech" that will allow Trump and his ilk to have us thrown in prison forever, or just killed right away.

If Trump wins, so do all genocidal states.

A win for Trump is a loss for the world.

Accelerationism hurts more people than it helps.

The "revolution" will die before it can begin under Trump.

Don't help him win by pulling votes away from the only candidate for presidency with a chance against him.

#7 #rant #us politics #trump #harris #VOTE #FUCKING VOTE #if we all go down swinging there will be nobody left to fight #stop turning into single-issue voters. that's for conservatives.#I'm so fucking tired

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request batboys learn of reader's fake death, she is on a mission and they find her.

Reader can be read as gn or whoever you see fit.

Dick

‘Is that you?’ Dick asks softly as he neared you.

‘No.’ You replied in hopes that he’d leave but you knew deep down that he wouldn’t, not if leaving meant leaving you behind also. Not the way you chose to erase yourself out of the picture for this stupid suicide mission.

Dick on the other hand was hellbent to not loose you again, the house you both built wasn’t a home if you weren’t in it to share it with him and Hayley, the poor dog was still fast sleeping on your side of the bed before Dick left for his nightly patrol; Hayley missed you very much and would whimper when she realises that your scent was slowly fading away.

It hurt Dick more then he liked to admit, and he tried to suppress it for as long as he could but he would often find himself trying to look for you in other people, other things but it always ended with him looking at the pictures of the two of you on the wall and feeling nothing but cold. Everything felt out of place without you but Dick would always try to act as though he was coping better then he was behind closed doors doors, clutching at the clothes you’ll never wear again as he silently sobs into the fabric.

Now here you were stood before him in what people would call as pure coincidence or luck because anyone would give anything to see their lost ones again, absolutely anything, even if it was by morally questionable means and Dick can understand the reason why that might be.

‘I- I wish I could tell you but I can’t.’ You replied, not wanting to put Dick in danger because of the dangerous people you’ve wronged.

‘Why not?’ Dick asked, worried that something had happened when he wasn’t nearby to help.

‘It doesn’t concern you.’ You told him as you tried to make distance but Dick was quick to close it. ‘It does concern me if it involves you.’ He says lowly, gently reaching out to hold your face to make sure this was real and not a dream and when you leaned into his touch, eyes closed shut Dick lets out a relieved sigh as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. ‘So please, don’t make me loose you again. let me help.’ He whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

Now you really couldn’t reject his help, he made it impossible just like how he made it impossible for you not to fall in love with him all over again.

Tim

Didn’t know what to expect from what he was seeing.

He had heard that there was someone of your stature going about town during the night but he wasn’t one to believe it until he’s seen it with his own eyes. So when he did catch of glimpse of you or someone pretending to be you, he didn’t know what to do, he was brought back to where he was when he found out about your supposed death; helpless and confused as to how such a thing could happen.

It wasn’t until your eyes met his did Tim feel his blood go cold from how dull and borderline dead your eyes looked when glaring right at him. There was a flash of familiarity but that was gone before Tim could blink, something was wrong, very wrong but he didn’t know what exactly.

You weren’t…well you.

Now Tim did have dreams about what he’d do if you were to be magically reanimated, brought back to life but those were dreams for a reason, a alternative reality that didn’t abide to realism or the more likeliest of outcomes; this was reality and reality wasn’t pretty and is often disappointing on most accounts.

So Tim stood there, frozen as you made a quick exit, much to the confusion of his siblings -Dick and Damian- who knew how hard your death had struck Tim, they didn’t need to be told how difficult it must’ve been to see your dead partner somehow alive again.

‘Are you okay?’ Dick asks.

‘Somethings wrong.’ Tim said. ‘Why would they feel the need to fake their own death and not tell me about it beforehand?’ He asks himself.

‘Only if someone powerful wanted you dead.’ Damian suggested. ‘What other reason is there besides that one?’

‘If that’s truly is the case,’ Tim began as he looked between Dick and Damian, ‘then why reappear after only a week? It’d be common sense to stay low for far longer until the smoke clears, unless...’

Dick then places a hand on Tim’s shoulder. ‘Looks like we’ve got work to do.’

Tim wasn’t certain what he would do if you ever did come back, but now it seems as though he did know; to save you from whatever has been nipping at your heels.

Jason

Wasn’t sure whether or not the sleepless nights had finally caught up to him ever since your passing, spending them staring at the door to your shared bedroom as though you’d magically walk through it with a smile, telling him that everything that had happened was just a nightmare before kissing him on the forehead and cuddling into his side to fall asleep.

However Jason had pinched his skin that many times to know well enough that was all a fallacy created by his own mind because he didn’t want you seeing the man he’d become from whether afterlife you resided in.

So when he spotted sow thing he believes looked a lot like your silhouette, his body followed after it, much like it did whenever things pertaining to you sparked that sense of familiarity within him, that sense of home and belonging. However this lack of subtly on his end didn’t end up well as he was soon enough laid flat out on his back as your masked face hovered over his.

‘Why were you following me?’ You asked through gritted teeth.

‘I thought you were dead.’ He replied In disbelief.

‘That was the plan until you ruined it.’ You grunted as you pulled him up to his feet, ‘you weren’t followed were you?’ You asked as your eyes shifted from shadow to shadow.

‘No, listen sweetheart-‘ Jason tried to speak but you sharply shushed him. ‘What’s going on, you can tell me.’ He now whispers and you sigh, finding it hard to exist within the same space as Jason without hugging him to death, but you couldn’t risk dragging him into your troubles.

‘I can’t.’ You tell him, knowing that there was a heartbroken expression behind that red helmet of his, ‘and even if I can all I would be allowed to say is that some bad people are after me.’ Jason’s shoulders tensed at this.

‘Why did you say anything earlier.’ He asked, he was holding back from exploding because had this been brought up earlier then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to be subjected to witnessing your ‘death.’ ‘I could’ve helped you out-‘

‘And risk you becoming their next target? Not thanks Jason I already lost you once I’m not doing it again.’ You tell him firmly but he wasn’t having it, not after what you put him through. ‘And I thought I lost you or has that not ever come to mind.’ He bites back with the sharpness of someone who was deeply hurt by the actions of someone who he loved more than life.

‘Jason.’ You tried to say but you knew him better then most, once his mind had been made up there was little chance to change it.

‘No. I’m going to help you get out of this mess, either you want me to or not, this is my war now.’ Jason tells you as he marched ahead. You sighed as you followed after him.

This was going to be a long night.

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iwaasfairy · 1 year ago

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┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

#kinktober #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi smut #fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw.dark content #tw.somno #tw.noncon #tw.wound fucking #tw.blood

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thehmn · 8 months ago

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It might simply be that I don’t frequent ADHD forums enough but I haven’t seen a whole lot of talk about learned social withdrawal.

As a child I made friends left and right but as we all turned into self-conscious teenagers it slowly became more and more difficult for me. Plain and simple, other people thought I was weird. For some reason I never got bullied which I think is related to something my teachers kept telling my parents “She’s such a sweet, bright child and we can tell she’s not malicious or trying to be disruptive on purpose but we can’t teach her anything”

Basically people couldn’t figure me out. I had good social skills with both children and adults, I had a good moral compass, i felt compassion and empathy for others and was willing to go against my friends if I felt they were being bullies, I taught myself English and my drawings showed good observation skills. Because of all that it was decided I should start school a year sooner than most kids and my parents were very proud. Unfortunately that’s probably one of the main reasons why I was never diagnosed with raging ADHD as a child. People soon realized I didn’t do well in a school setting but assumed it was because I “wasn’t done playing” and my ADHD symptoms were interpreted as childishness.

So as I got older my classmates started to distance themselves from me. They were always kind and friendly but they didn’t know how to deal with me and ever since then people have always been worryingly comfortable with calling me weird to my face. I get the impression it’s because they think it’s a choice on my part. To them I’m clearly of “normal intelligence” so I must be acting like this on purpose and my parents would repeatedly tell me to “just act normal” as a child when I told them I was struggling to make friends. I tried so damn hard but kept failing. I knew something had to be different about me and when I first heard about ADHD I thought “That’s me! That’s how I feel!” but my parents said that was impossible because I wasn’t hyperactive.

Because nobody wanted to help me I eventually learned to just stop trying to make friends and keep to myself. I was so tired of being told by friendly, well-meaning people that I was so weird and quirky and unique only for them to distance themselves once they realized it was permanent and not something I could turn on and off for parties. I always enjoyed being alone so it wasn’t a huge loss but it did feel incredibly lonely at times.

Things got a lot better when I became an adult, mostly because adults are generally more chill than teens so my ADHD behavior isn’t as embarrassing to them and ironically they’re often surprised to learn I don’t make friends easily. Unfortunately I learned to be withdrawn in my formative years so new friends are still a rarity. Before I really sat down and put my past into context I even started to wonder if I had autism despite not connecting with anything autistic people said about their experiences. I went as far as to be tested but wasn’t surprised when the diagnosis was negative because of course it was, I kinda already knew that. I was just looking for an explanation.

So while there can be overlap between ADHD and autism (I have just such a friend) my experience is also that oftentimes people with ADHD simply learn to stay away from social situations and entertain ourselves which ends up looking like autism to outsiders.

#adhd #add #autism

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save-the-villainous-cat · 4 months ago

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What about a sub!villain who tries to play the part of the suave, dominant villain cause they’re afraid of vulnerability… and an actually dominant hero who sees through it and flips the script. Could it also be spicy please?

Also, your writing is amazing and it makes my day better! Thank you so much for sharing it! I send you hugs!

"You may think you're deceptive. But you are not." The end of the villain's dagger nearly buried its way into their own skin. Although the villain couldn't recall when the hero had gotten a hold of it during the fight, they were quite pleased with the result. (The result being the hero on top of them, still panting from the fight.) "Your effort is quite delightful, though."

The villain cracked a smile.

"Oh, you want to ravage me so bad..."

"Your imagination doesn't even come close to how bad I truly want that," the hero answered.

There was something in their presence that stirred the villain in an exciting way. Was it their body? Their personality? Their morals and their desires? Usually, the villain considered themselves to be talented when it came to reading people and analyzing the relationships they had with them.

For better or worse, it was different with the hero. More confusing. More dangerous.

At this point, the villain was playing with fire - they didn't know exactly what their relationship with the hero was nor where they stood.

"I loathe you for being my only weakness." The hero let the blade dig into the villain's chin until they looked up. "And destroying you would probably bring me some peace."

"Oh." The villain had never heard such a blunt statement coming from the hero. At least not something this personal and...open. It nearly made the villain sick to their stomach how casually the hero had mentioned it.

Slowly, the hand which wasn't holding onto the dagger travelled up the villain's arm until those cursed fingertips found a shaking wrist and grabbed it.

"But what am I without you? What is Orpheus without his muse?"

"You're so charming today..." The villain tried to sound as flirty as they could but their voice was inexplicably trembling.

When had the hero decided to be so horrible and seduce the villain? And why on earth was it working?

"How does that make you feel?" the hero asked, their voice nothing more than a whisper. They freed their index finger from their grip around the villain's wrist and slowly, agonizingly, let it travel upwards. The villain took in a sharp breath, surprised by the hero's actions.

It felt a little too intimate. Nearly immoral.

The villain felt quite stupid for blushing, after all, it was just the hero's finger rubbing against their palm and their breath on the villain's neck.

"I'm..." The villain tried to concentrate but it wasn't that easy anymore. They closed their eyes, close to defeat already. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

Did the hero have to level their weight on the villain's hips? Did they have to say these things? Startle the villain like that? Couldn't they just flirt, try to kill each other and go home after?

Did the hero have to whisper something this close to a confession into the villain's ear?

"How does it feel to be my only weakness?" the hero murmured. Their grip loosened and slowly, their hand began their conquest towards the villain's fingers. "How does it feel to mean so much to me? To occupy my thoughts during the day? And my dreams during the night?"

Hell, the hero was dreaming about them?

"What are you doing...?" Suddenly, the hero let their fingers entwine, squeezing gently and for whatever reason, the villain took in a quick breath.

"I believe we both know you crave a superficial relationship. Something that makes you feel superior and secure. But I can tell you from personal experience that those relationships don't work out in the long run. They will make you feel miserable. They will make you feel worthless. If I want you, I will want you bare. And there is nothing I desire more." Their lips were close to the villain's. "In your own time, of course. You strip. Figuratively and literally, obviously."

"I- You-"

"I am always willing to help, though." The hero smirked lazily and squeezed the villain's hand. "There is no reason to feel ashamed. Or to feel weak. After all, you have me in your hand."

The villain couldn't say anything.

It had started as a normal fight. With the usual flirting.

And now, the villain was actually thinking about opening up to someone. To talk about all their horrible fears and the self-doubt. About all their mistakes and regrets.

This had to be some new weapon or master plan to turn the villain into a good person. Whatever it was, the villain feared they would think about this encounter for the months to come.

"I will keep this, though," the hero announced. They held up the villain's dagger and pushed themselves off the villain. "Everyone needs a memento of their beloved, don't they?"

All the villain could do was stare as the hero blew them a kiss and vanished into the night.

#I wrote my way out of hell #didnt read over it #also its short cuz yuh body said no today #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask

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baptismbaby · 1 year ago

Text

† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 2

mean!ellie x innocent!reader a/n: posted this to ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: toxic!ellie, corruption, virgin!reader, praise, degrading, gaslighter!ellie, belittling, strap on (r!receiving), not rlly angsty but sorta? creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the pic of ellie wc: 4k<3 part one here

You kneeled by your Bible and candles praying for forgiveness for what happened the previous night. Although you enjoyed your time with Ellie, you felt guilty for going against your own morals. You didn’t judge your friends for having premarital sex and you didn’t think you’d go to Hell over it. If so, everyone would burn and not reach paradise. But you always told yourself that you’d wait until you were married before having sex. You blamed the alcohol and the weed but a part of you believed you would’ve done it sober.

You stood up with a sigh, knowing you had promised to meet Dina for lunch to talk about Ellie’s apology. You spent all night coming up with a lie, which you also felt horrible about. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. You greeted everyone with a smile as you walked past them. You were thankful that no one knew you drank and smoked the night before.

You walked in and almost ran face first into Seth, who glared down at you. “Sorry!” you apologized, stepping past him and heading towards the table where Dina was sitting.

“Hey you,” she greeted with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”

You sat down and set your bag in the chair next to you. “I woke up with a slight headache this morning but it went away after an hour. So I guess not too bad,” you responded.

“You’re a champ. I feel much better but I woke up feeling like complete shit.”

“I guess I didn’t drink enough to get a proper hangover.”

“Which means you didn’t get drunk enough. Gotta try again!”

“Absolutely not!” you disagreed. “I don’t think I wanna drink again. It tasted horrible!”

“That’s why you get a chaser,” said Dina. “Anyways, let’s get to why we’re here.”

She grabbed your wrist and looked deep into your eyes with a smirk. “Please tell me what Ellie said! I’m so shocked she apologized. She never admits when she’s in the wrong.”

“Well, she came up there and basically told me that she felt bad for making me upset. Even though she’s always doing that,” you laughed. “But she said she realized it went too far and that really, I’m not that bad or something like that. She promised she wouldn’t make fun of me again but who knows.”

“So, are you two gonna be friends?” Dina asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know… she actually invited me over to watch a movie tonight but I think I’m gonna pass.”

“I think you should go. Ellie never invites people to her place unless it’s for a party or she’s bringing a girl home to fuck. Damn, she really feels bad then,” said Dina.

You couldn’t help but smile. Even though she wanted you to come over to fuck you again, you liked the idea of Dina believing Ellie was going out of her way to prove how sorry she was to you. You originally were going to come over and tell her you weren’t sure if y’all should continue seeing each other but it wouldn’t hurt convincing her to watch a movie.

“Maybe I will go,” you stated. “I wouldn’t want things going back to how they were before.”

Dina peeked behind you and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” she said. You glanced back to see Ellie walking in. Her hair was messy, the top half of it tied up. She wore her gray hoodie still and baggy jeans. She looked over and made eye contact with you. She fixed her gaze on Dina and made her way to the table.

“Sup, Dina,” she said.

“Hey Ellie.”

Ellie looked back at you and nodded. She walked away and sat with a dark haired woman across the room. She smirked at you before starting a conversation with the girl. You frowned, holding your head up with her hand.

“Well, she didn’t say anything to you but she acknowledged you,” Dina uttered.

You couldn’t stop staring at Ellie and the girl. “Who is she sitting with?” you interrogated.

“That’s Cat. You know Cat, she just cut her hair so she’s a bit unrecognizable now.”

You felt a pain shoot through your stomach in jealousy. “Oh, her ex?”

“Yeah. I think they’re talking again. After you left the party, she came by and they disappeared for a couple minutes.”

You felt sick. Ellie used you and knew how much it meant to you to have sex. You got up quickly, the chair scraping across the floor loudly. Ellie turned her head from across the room, staring at you in confusion.

“I-I forgot,” you said. “I forgot I was supposed to help Sadie with something for bible study.”

Dina cocked an eyebrow at you. “Sadie’s on patrol?”

You smacked your face with your hand. “Shoot, you’re right. That’s next Saturday. Nevermind. I do need to go, though. My head is beginning to hurt again. I think I need a nap. It’s starting to get busy and all the chatter is killing me.”

“You alright?” asked Dina with concern.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll take a nap and feel better.”

“Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and come by tomorrow around noon! I wanna know what you and Ellie are gonna talk about tonight.”

You said nothing to Dina, spinning around to leave. As you walked out, you could see through the window that Ellie was at Dina’s table, leaned over and talking to her. You turned away and sped up so you could get home quickly.

You stood at the mirror on your door, looking up and down at your outfit. You wore your normal baggy clothes so Ellie wouldn’t get any ideas when you went over to talk to her. You grabbed your coat as you exited the door and headed down the steps. Ellie was just two blocks over but you knew you would be freezing to death before you got there. You shoved the jacket on and started walking down the road, your thoughts running rampant as you figured out what’d you say. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ellie looked at Cat as they spoke. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about the way Ellie looked in your eyes as she hovered over you. You got close to Ellie’s home and shook those thoughts away, mumbling a quick prayer to yourself so you would stay strong and stay on track.

You knocked on Ellie’s door and waited for her to open it. You heard shuffling inside and then the knob turned, revealing Ellie in a tank top and jeans. You looked down at her exposed tattoo then back up at her face. She wore a shit-eating grin as she stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, throwing yourself on her couch in irritation.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ellie, coming to sit next to you. “Mad that I didn’t say hi earlier? Is that it?”

You scooted away from her and refused to look at her. “No,” you muttered.

“Aw, talk to me, pretty girl.”

She reached out to grab your thigh but you smacked her hand away. You stood up and towered over Ellie, glaring at her sweet face. “I-I came here originally to tell you that maybe we shouldn’t have sex again!” you declared. Ellie leaned back, an amused look on her face. “I told myself that I would wait for marriage. My virginity was important to me, Ellie.”

“So… you’re upset that you had sex before being married?” questioned Ellie, still looking entertained about what you were saying.

“I was at first! I prayed and cried, begging God to forgive me. Mostly prayed that He’d forgive me for blaspheming Him. But now I feel stupid for losing my virginity to you,” you explained bitterly.

Ellie frowned. “You didn’t enjoy last night?” she asked in a mocking tone.

“You don’t want me. You’re talking to Cat again! And I’m angry that I was a fool to think you really wanted me. You just wanted in my pants so that you could say you made the good Christian girl go back on her morals, made her give herself to you completely! Just another thing to brag to your friends about.”

Ellie broke out into laughter. “This is about me having lunch with Cat?” She almost couldn’t believe it. You were jealous and assuming something was going on between her and Cat all because you saw them two together.

“Well, you’re sleeping with her again aren’t you?”

“No,” Ellie scoffed. “Who put that idea in your head anyway? Dina?”

“When I left the party, what happened?”

Ellie felt like she was being tested. She hated feeling that way. She only fucked you once and you were already testing her as if you two were in a relationship.

“Cat came by and we talked,” Ellie replied honestly.

“Dina said y’all left the party for a couple minutes.”

“Exactly! I wouldn’t even say a couple minutes, it was probably less than a minute.”

“What did she want?”

“Really? Why does it matter?”

“I can’t sleep with you if you’re sleeping with her too,” you said.

“You’re gonna feel really stupid when I tell you why we met up today.”

You groaned, frustrated that Ellie was making you feel this way. You wished you ghosted her instead. If she wanted her ex, fine. But she was an idiot to think she could still fuck you on the side.

“She wanted advice on how to ask out the girl she’s been seeing.”

Ellie watched as your face turned red in embarrassment.

“You feel stupid, huh?” she teased, smirking at your mortified expression.

“Don’t,” you scolded. “Don’t even… don’t go back to that or I’ll leave.”

“I’m not being mean, baby. I’m stating a fact. C’mere… I know you’re sorry. I forgive you.”

You walked over to her, your knees almost touching hers as she sat up and brushed her fingers along your arms.

“I like that you were jealous. I like that you felt dumb for assuming shit. That’s all you are, my dumb puppy,” she spoke in a low raspy voice. She actually didn’t enjoy that you had gotten jealous. All you were to her was a fucktoy. Jealousy ruins her fun. Ellie decided to let it slide for the night, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until all you can say is a string of apologies for thinking bad of her.

You pulled your arms away, sighing at the loss of her touch but wanting to stand your ground.

“I am sorry, Ellie. But it doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have sex anymore. I wanted to wait until marriage and I want to wait until marriage to have sex again. I messed up once and it’s okay but I cannot sin this way again.”

Ellie hummed, her finger lifting up your shirt slightly to stick it in the hem of your jeans. She slid it across your skin, looking up as your breathing got faster.

“But it felt so good to sin, didn’t it, baby?” she cooed.

“I refuse to confess that to you. God has already forgiven me. I mean it.”

“Then make me stop.”

Ellie started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down around your ankles. She chuckled at the sight of your soaked panties. “You want this as much as I do,” she taunted.

You watched as she pulled them back up. “But if you really don’t want to… well, I won’t make you. But it makes me sad. I had so much planned for tonight.”

You fought with yourself internally as a part of you was desperate for her to take them off again and touch you. You hadn’t moved an inch, not even to button your jeans up. They were falling down slowly, too slow for your liking.

You knew it was wrong but decided it would be okay. All of your friends do it and they’re good people. You truly believed that there was no way that they would go to hell for having sex. They were the best friends you ever had. You never judged them for it so why would they judge you?

You hesitated before you spoke up. “W-What did you have planned?”

Ellie smirked devilishly. She knew you’d give in if she made you feel bad about it. While she realized it was wrong, she didn’t care because things were going her way.

“Follow me,” she demanded. She stood up and you walked after her, feeling nervous but in a good way. Ellie stepped inside her room and you admired the walls. There were so many posters and trinkets scattered over her dressers. In one corner of the room, she had a desk with papers all over it and a guitar next to it. Ellie was digging through her closet as you inched closer to read the papers. Before you could pick one up, Ellie dropped something which startled you. You spun around to see her eyeing you closely. She had thrown something back in the closet on purpose to gain your attention. She shook her head no, her eyes squinted into a glare. You backed away from her desk, choosing to sit on the bed instead.

“Atta girl,” Ellie complimented. She made her way over to the bed with a box. She placed it in front of you on the floor and you peeked in, gasping.

“You’re gonna use all of that on me?”

She chuckled. “No, I want you to pick.”

“To put inside me?”

“For me to wear so I can fuck you properly,” she explained, her voice soft and almost condescending. She knew you had no idea what she meant and how she was going to use it. “Do you see this? It’s a harness,” she continued, holding it up to show you. “I wear it over my boxers and I’ll have whichever one you pick attached to it.”

You looked back in the box and started going through it, picking up different ones and making a face before putting it back in. “These are too big, Ellie,” you admitted. “I think it’ll hurt too much.”

“It’s supposed to hurt the first time, honey. Do you want me to take out the smallest one I have?”

You nodded and slid the box over to her. She reached in and grabbed one, passing it over to you. “It’s five and a half inches long,” she said. “Pretty average. Thick enough but not too thick. Is this okay?”

“It’s okay. Please be gentle, though,” you begged.

“What, you really think I’d be rough on you? I’m not gonna do that until you’re used to it, dummy. I’ll be real slow and gentle until you say otherwise. Although, I’ll probably keep it slow. Not sure if you deserve to be fucked hard. You did come in here accusing me of bullshit earlier.”

You pouted at Ellie, feeling that it was unfair for her to bring it up. Your pout went away though as you watched her take her shirt off. Your eyes followed her hands as she slowly unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops. She shoved her jeans off and stepped out of them. Ellie walked over to you, smirking as you stared at her in awe. “Give it,” she whispered. You handed her the dildo. “Take off your clothes, pup. You wanna be ready for me once this is put together, don’t you?”

You obliged, standing up to discard your clothes as fast as you could. Ellie laughed softly at your desperation. You were completely naked by the time the strap was ready. Ellie stepped closer to you as you pushed yourself further up on the bed. You laid back on the pillow, Ellie now hovering over you. “Such a needy girl,” she murmured. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ellie,” you breathed. She looked down at your pussy, gliding her fingers along your thighs.

“I could touch you,” she began. “But do you really deserve that?”

“Y-You bullied me for years, Els, do you deserve to fuck me?” you said slightly above a whisper. You realized what you had said as Ellie’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance. “I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You meant it,” she interrupted. “You want to be a brat now baby? Now you really have to prove how sorry you are.”

“I am sorry!” you whined. You reached up to touch her but she smacked your hand away.

“I’m pissed because I can’t fuck you how I want to. If you continue to act like a brat by the time you’re adjusted to my cock, I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. I’ll make a mess of you. A braindead little bitch with an aching cunt, crying because I won’t let you cum no matter how much you beg. Got it?”

You nodded, her threats turning you on even more. You liked when she called you a good girl but you also enjoyed the side of her that was angry with you. You couldn’t wait until you got used to getting fucked with a strap so that she could do whatever she wanted with you.

“Use your words,” she demanded.

“I got it, Ellie.”

“Good girl. You want me to continue?”

“Yes please,” you answered.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” said Ellie, going back to being soft and sweet with you. She began to press the tip of her dick to your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Does that feel good, pup?”

“Mhm!” you moaned in agreement. “S’ good, Ellie!”

“Do you want more or do you want me to put it in?”

“In,” you responded eagerly.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“If you need me to stop or go slower or anything like that, tell me,” she said as she lined her cock up with your entrance. “Are you ready?”

You nodded. Ellie leaned closer so that her face was right in front of yours to watch your reaction. She slowly pushed into you, making you yelp in pain.

“Sh, just like that baby,” Ellie whispered in a raspy voice. “It’s okay. You can take it.”

Ellie kept it inside you for a few seconds so you could adjust to the feeling before she started to thrust into you gently. You whined in both pain and pleasure, loving the feeling of Ellie’s strap inside of you.

“Good girl, you’re taking it so well.”

Ellie kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around her. Your nails dug into her back, scratching her with every thrust. Ellie rolled her hips at a steady pace, talking you through it until you reached down and tugged at her waist.

“You want more baby?”

“Please, go harder.”

Ellie went harder but still kept the slow pace, watching as your eyes squeezed shut from how good it felt. “Fuck,” Ellie moaned, the sound of your wet pussy making her throb. “You feel good, pup? Is your cunt adjusting well to my cock? Hm?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I-I want you to go-to go faster, Els. Please!”

Ellie grinned at your pleading and sped up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You moaned louder, gripping Ellie’s shoulders and crying out her name.

“Yeah? You like that, honey? Tell me how good it feels,” said Ellie between grunts.

“Fuck it feels s-so good! I’m about to cum, please let me cum!” you begged.

“Such a good little slut, asking for permission. Cum for me like the good girl you are, my good girl,” Ellie growled.

She plunged deeper into you and faster, watching your face as you squealed and whined. Your orgasm took over your body, making you scream out Ellie’s name. Ellie slowed down as you trembled beneath her.

“Atta girl,” she praised.

She pulled out of you and laid back on the bed beside you, turning on her side to watch you catch your breath.

“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

You looked over at her and shook your head. “It stung at first but I got used to it. It felt really good,” you uttered between breaths.

“Good, I got a bit too carried away at the end but you seemed to enjoy it.”

You giggled. “Yeah, I did like it when you were rougher.”

“Noted,” Ellie said as she reached over to her drawer, opening it and pulling out an already rolled blunt. She lit it up and offered it to you but you declined.

“I can barely think, Ellie.”

Ellie shrugged and puffed on it, blowing it out away from you. “Suit yourself, doll.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded. “I was wondering… if maybe you could teach me how to touch you?”

“No,” Ellie said almost too quickly. “I can get myself off when you leave. You can stay until I finish this.”

“Oh, I’m not staying the night?”

Ellie shook her head no. You sighed, realizing that you had to walk home with weak legs.

“Why won’t you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

“Um, teach me how to touch you? I don’t think it’s fair I cum and you don’t,” you stated.

“I don’t do that unless I’m in a relationship with that person.”

“Well, something will come out of this probably so you might as well show me now!” you said as you laughed. You saw the confused expression Ellie made, your smile faltering. “I mean, it is going to, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to what?”

You sighed in frustration, getting mad that Ellie was playing dumb. You knew her better than that. Ellie was a smart girl but would fight her way out of admitting something she didn’t want to. You raised up and grabbed your clothes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nauseous. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “I should just go.”

“Hey, I want you to stay until I finish my joint so I can walk you out.”

“Such a gentleman, Ellie,” you spat back sarcastically.

“What was that? Did I not just let you cum on my cock after you insulted me earlier? I wasn’t going to let you but I did out of kindness. You should watch your tone with me, church girl, because I won’t be so nice next time.”

“You’re fucking me but don’t plan on having anything with me at some point?” you asked as you stood up. You tumbled a bit due to how shaky your legs were but you tried your best to not let it show. “You could’ve told me.”

Ellie scoffed. “I’m just havin’ fun. I didn’t realize you would want this to be a relationship.”

“I assumed you knew because of how I am. I’m a Christian who dates to marry,” you argued.

“Right, just like you assumed I was fucking Cat again all because you saw us sitting together. Relax, I don’t know where this will go. I like fucking you and I plan on fucking you as often as I can. Not if you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way, though.”

You rolled your eyes and started to get dressed. Ellie continued to smoke her joint while she observed you. “I already know you’re gonna say this is the last time,” Ellie continued. “But you’ll come back. I know you will. I think you need me.”

“What I need is to go home and sleep. I also need you to leave me alone,” you mumbled.

“When I show up to your door tomorrow night, are you really gonna turn me away?”

“Bye, Ellie,” you said as you started to walk away.

“Wait,” Ellie stood up and put her joint out. She slid out of the harness and threw it on the bed, grabbing her tank top and shoving it on as she chased after you. You were almost at the door when she jogged in front of you, opening it for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, pup,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Fuck you.”

You walked out, Ellie still at the door to watch you go. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow!”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part two

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