#why do men always have to be so shitty and deal with their problems by pushing you away??

[httpsghostie]

going through an extremely unnecessary painful phase in my relationship got me thinking

how it would feel to lay in ghost's chest and ugly cry until i simply shut down, pass out in his arms 

like look at this he's massive i just need a hug 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[hauntedbythenarrative]

.

[melanchoire]

g!p jealous ceo giselle please?

cw: anal, blowjob, breeding, creampie, degradation, deep throat, hair pulling, handjob, humiliation, spanking.

ceo giselle would be the ceo who gives the worst headaches because she knows how to get under your skin

you can’t complain about your job as a personal assistant and secretary because it’s a good job, the pay is good and you need the job. over time you obviously got used to her, but she is still the same undisciplined ceo with a shitty attitude and passive aggressive comments that she was on the day of your first interview

typing, preparing and collating reports was one of the most exhausting tasks you could have, you would always much rather answer calls and respond to messages than deal with all the paperwork full of words that mean absolutely nothing 😮‍💨 when you go to giselle’s office and leave the papers on the table, she gives you that demeaning look and a mocking grin that you despise so much. she always looks for even the smallest mistake and focuses on the small details to minimize your work

“the word you used here is informal. change it.”

“you forgot to put a full stop here.”

“i don’t like the font you used on this document. please write the report again. i want it tomorrow at the same time as today.”

but you have to keep a good attitude and behavior!! so keep a smile if you don’t want to be fired 😄 nodding at her command and walking out of the office, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it in the trash as soon as you leave her office

she also treats you like her slave 💀 your job as a secretary also requires you to take on receptionist duties in addition to your administrative responsibilities. for example, greeting clients arriving for conferences or meetings and being the person who helps visitors settle in, bringing refreshments, taking notes during client meetings, etc. in addition to scheduling meetings and conferences, your job was also to take responsibility for organizing and leading meetings. yes, giselle often forces you to participate in her conferences

but giselle treats you like you’re a maid, snapping her fingers followed by a “get me and the men a cup of coffee. you know how i like it: hot and not much sugar. be quick.” and you don’t know if it's her attitude that puts you in a worse mood or the way the businessmen are looking at you

but here we go again, keep a smile if you don’t want to be fired

but today was different. you felt like men were making fun of you because they looked at you with funny expressions when you talked, interrupting you to ask stupid questions or comments that were slowly making you angry. they even gave you glances from head to toe without worrying about being discreet, this being the only thing that seemed to bother giselle

“we’re thirsty. go get us some fresh water. room temperature.” another snap of her fingers, but giselle’s tone is more demanding and that makes you feel… turned on?? you never liked her orders, or well, you didn’t like to admit that you liked listening to them, but that’s a secret 🤫🤐

men collectively directing their gazes at your body as you leave the meeting room 💀 giselle getting so pissed off that her tongue hits the inside of her cheek to keep from telling everyone to fuck off, but her anger is so big that she ends the meeting immediately and throws all the men out of the room

ohhh and giselle is pissed as hell and you notice it when you get back to the conference room she grabs you by the arm and practically throws you against the table

“giselle, what the fuck is your problem?”

“what the fuck is your problem? acting like a slut in front of all those men, seriously? do you have any idea how that could affect my company’s image? you’re a whore, (y/n)…”

and of course you get upset by her accusations!! giselle always tries to be on your ass all the time, and you try very hard to remain professional, but she exhausts your patience and you dare to respond

you dare to answer. answer to giselle

“why don’t you go fuck yourself, giselle? i’m sick of your smug, shitty attitude.”

so giselle gets upset because you dare to talk to her in a bad way and decides to shut you up by making you give her a blowjob? WELL YES—

as she forces you to your knees you give her a dirty look, trying to stand up but she grabs your hair in a ponytail and gives it a hard tug SHE ALSO SLAP YOU WITH HER THICK COCK?!?! giselle just loves to see the death stare you give her…

giselle smiles in amusement as she sees your pathetic attempts to free yourself from her grip, placing your hands on her thighs and trying to push her away, but giselle places both hands on either side of her head and pushes you down onto her cock, moaning as she thrusts into your mouth and uses you like a fleshlight 🥴

looking down to meet your tear filled eyes looking up at her, the obscene noise of you choking on her length and the feeling and her head hitting the back of your throat and your nose tickling against her pelvis with every thrust 🤤 but she doesn’t cum in your mouth, instead she pulls out a few seconds before cumming, jerking off her cock and shooting thick ropes of warm and sticky cum onto your face 💕 mainly by dirtying the lenses of your glasses because since she saw you using them when you were in front of the computer or reading documents, something in her brain changed completely 😊

then she pushes you onto the table without bothering to remove any papers or documents from it, placing one hand on the back of your head to push your face into the hard wood and using the other to push your skirt up to your waist, drooling at the sight of your perfect ass and soaked panties 😵‍💫 giselle doesn’t waste any time and squeezes your asscheeks and then gives one of your cheeks a hard smack that leaves the print of her palm in a bright red tone, it’s something gigi has wanted to do for a long time and has always been resisting, so today she is going to take advantage of the opportunity!!

fucking your ass because she says your pussy doesn’t deserve her cock :( making you beg and whimper at how much your pussy was leaking and clenching around nothing

“you can go and ask one of them to fuck you, you know? i bet you even fuck my employees when i’m not looking, don’t you?”

and even when she is destroying your ass she doesn’t stop being rude to you 😔 pulling your tie just enough so that it tightens around your neck and takes away your breath for a moment, grabbing your tits from behind and squeezing them over your shirt, groping your ass and digging her fingers into your skin…

cumming inside you and pulling out of your ass with a filthy “pop”, forcing you to open your own cheeks to admire in detail how her creamy essence slowly oozes from your hole and maybe forcing you to push it inside you again using two fingers 🥴

collapsing without air on the large table in the meetings room, only for giselle to adjust her suit and tell you “tomorrow there will be a job interview to recruit new office workers, try to look presentable. oh, and later i will send you the paperwork i need you to fill out, it’s due on monday.”

but you wouldn’t complain about hard work if it means getting a good fucking from your boss later

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Summary: You can run all you want, but Toji will always find you.

Story Warning: Stalker Ex-boyfriend Toji!!!, Threats of Violence, Shitty Date (literally), Smut, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Threats of Pregnancy omg, Possessive Behavior, No condoms we get plan b 'round here

Artist: Idk! But if you find out, let me know and I'll update my post

Your lips turn down in a frown, eyes widening as you swipe your mascara over your lashes one last time. You blink as you take in your appearance in your bathroom mirror for the last time, slipping your mascara wand back into the tube and twisting it tightly shut.

You have a date tonight.

The first one you’ve had since moving to Sendai from Tokyo. You met him at your new accounting job. He’s nice, a little boring for your usual taste, but he’s exactly what you needed to date. Someone your age. Someone with their life together, and someone who isn’t fucking crazy. And god did you need the not crazy part.

Your ex was an older man who seemed to have it all together when you first met. Things were easy with you two. He worked a job that required a lot of travel. He supposedly worked for the government, never asking questions because every answer was a stern “It’s confidential”. And that was fine. You didn’t need to know what he did for a living as long as he was good to you, and he was at first.

Two years of dating and everything was going well…save the bouts of jealousy and possessiveness your ex sometimes let slip. When he wasn’t making sure to watch your every move, monitor any man who spoke to you, he was fantastic. Loving. Doting. Funny…All of the things you wanted in a partner. It was just when his jealousy reared its ugly head, it became everyone’s problem.

He never hurt you physically, no. He would never. But that didn’t apply to anyone else within your vicinity.

It was flattering at first, how he’d lose his shit just at the sight of you with another man. But then it became too much. Breaking up with him didn’t work. He’d just show up wherever you were, telling you he loved you, that he can’t do this life without you, to give him another chance and he’d be better. And every new chance always ended the same. With some random man on the floor with a bloody nose after talking to you at the bar, your ex looming over him, jaw tight, nostrils flared with anger and you storming away.

You thought dating an older man was going to be different, that you wouldn’t be dealing with the same childish shit men your age would put you through. But apparently, age didn’t make a difference. At his prehistoric age, your ex proved that wasn’t the case.

He was never going to change.

No matter what you did, he was never going to leave you alone.

You soon realized your ex was more than jealous and possessive. He was downright insane. You remember what it was like every time you broke up, the vicious grin he would wear after ruining one of your nights out, chasing you down until you gave in to him…and then he was ruining you back at your apartment.

And you hated yourself for that. How easy it was for him to break down your walls with little effort. How easy it was for him to get you to forgive him. He didn’t have to do much. He just needed to show up, tell you sweet nothings and you were putty in his hands, opening the door to your life for him…And your legs.

It’s why you moved so far across the country. The further, the better. You’d blocked his number, packed up and didn’t even tell your closest friends where you were going. You needed a complete revamping of your life. Because you loved him too much to resist him if he ever showed up again.

With a sigh, you check your makeup and dress one last time before you head out. You’re going to the movies. It’s a simple date. Doesn’t require you to do too much, but you want to make a good impression. It’s your first date since moving to Sendai and you deserve to have a normal date for once. 

When you arrive at the theater, you’re immediately hit by the smell of butter and the sounds of kernels popping in the machines behind the concession stand. Your date is already waiting inside with popcorn and your tickets. He flashes you a bright smile, tells you you look beautiful tonight and you feel your cheeks warm beneath his gaze. It’s a little weird to be out with someone new, but isn’t that what you wanted?

He’s nice. Give him a chance.

The attendant checks your tickets and points you to your theater. You climb the stairs, glancing down at your ticket to ensure you’re on the correct row, right in the middle of the theater. The perfect view.

Your date sets the popcorn down between the two of you. “I heard this movie is really good.”

“Me too,” you nod, reaching into the tub of popcorn at the same time as your date. You both smile shyly at each other when your fingers touch, grabbing a handful of popcorn just as the theater lights dim and the movie begins.

- - - - - -

The movie blares in the back of the theater, the music building to a crescendo as some action scene reaches its climax. But that’s not what the man at the top of the theater is watching as he shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. No, there’s a much more interesting sight in front of him, right in the center of the theater.

You.

Who gives a fuck about the movie when he has a perfect view of you?

Well, of you and the fucker sitting a little too close, whispering in your ear any chance his gets and slipping his arm around your shoulder.

He wants to march down and kick your little friend in the head, splatter his brain across the floor. But he’s off the clock. A random body to clean up wouldn’t look good for him and it definitely wouldn’t increase his chances of getting back to you. And that’s the goal here. To get to you. So he has to be patient, like he has been all this time.

He could always barge into your new place and make you talk to him. He could always call your phone even though you blocked his number and changed phone providers. That’s lightwork for him, child’s play. And he wants to have some fun before he makes a move.

Emerald eyes watch in the darkness as your date leans into your ear to whisper something, your shoulders shaking slightly as you laugh. It almost makes him break his promise to bide his time, watching that man put his lips so close to your soft skin.

The skin he misses running his large hands over. The skin he misses kissing, running his tongue over. The skin he misses admiring after coating it with his own release. Fuck, he misses you more than anything. He’d damn near lost his mind after realizing you left Tokyo, up and gone in the middle of the night without so much as a word. Not even your friends knew where you’d gone. And he would know if they were lying. 

But now that he has you in front of him, he’s determined to never let you go.

Your date leans over to whisper once a-fucking-gain in your ear and his jaw tightens, teeth clenching so hard it makes his head throb. Your date stands, heading for the stairs, leaving you alone in the theater to watch the movie. There’s too many people around for him to approach you so soon. It’s not the right time, but he has an idea of what he could do until then.

The man in the back stands, casually following your date down the steps and out the theater door. Your date is an idiot, not even aware for a second that someone is behind him and closing in on him quickly. The easiest prey he’s had in awhile. Green eyes watch as he turns into the bathroom and he follows after silently.

Your date closes himself into the further stall, the largest and takes a seat on the toilet.

Even better. Out of sight.

The man doesn’t sense any other presence in the bathroom as he enters the stall next to your dates and stands atop the commode. He peers down boredly as your date sits, toying with his phone. Clearly he was going to be in here for awhile anyway, but now it may seem he won’t be returning.

“Got any good games on there?” The green eyed man asks, smirking when your date practically jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone with a loud crack.

“What the fuck, man?!” He shouts, face red with anger. “Get the fuck outta here, fucking freak!”

“I’ll cut to the chase.”

Your date fixes him with a look of confusion.

“Leave your date.”

Your date looks even more confused. The green eyed man rolls his eyes, sighing with annoyance. He grits his teeth. “Leave. Your. Date. Go home, forget you met her.”

Now your date’s red face has returned, his anger rolling off of his skin. “Fuck off! Get out of here or I’ll call security, you fucking weirdo!”

The man sighs again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He tried to be nice. He really did. With ease, he hops over the wall of the bathroom stall, landing before your date, one foot smashing his phone into pieces. He digs the heel of his foot into the device for good measure, the sound of glass scratching the floor filling the space between them.

And then he’s leaning over, meeting your date at eye level, green eyes glaring into his wide and terrified ones. “Leave. Your. Date. Or you’ll be lucky to leave this bathroom with only your phone crushed in.”

He can see the way your date trembles, the sweat beginning to bead along his forehead and above his lip, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a loud gulp before he nods silently.

A large hand comes up to pat his cheek, tapping it lightly a few times. “Smart kid,” the man says before standing straight. “Don’t even think about calling security either or you won’t make it out of the theater in one piece.”

He turns, kicking the door to your date’s stall open before waltzing out and heading back toward the theater. He ascends the steps, bright eyes locked on your form as he squeezes past the other moviegoers on your row to get to you.

He takes the seat next to you, slipping an arm around your shoulder and loving the feeling of you snuggling in closer. He leans over, lips pressed to your ear as he asks, “What’d I miss, sweetheart?” And he revels in the way your body tenses in his embrace, trying to pull back but he holds you to him.

“Toji –”

“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during the movie.” Toji reaches into the tub of popcorn you and your date were sharing, offering you some. You shake your head in refusal and Toji shrugs, shoving the handful into his mouth.

- - - - - -

The movie flies by, your stiff body held by Toji the remainder of the film. When the lights turn back on, he holds you there until all the other guests have dispersed. When the last guest is gone, he looks at you, a wide grin stretched along his face.

“Missed y–”

You shove his arm off of you, brushing past him and hurrying down the stairs. Angry would not be a strong enough word to describe what you’re feeling right now. Maybe irate. Enraged. Incensed. No, still not enough.

You push out of the theater doors, Toji hot on your trail. Your eyes scan the empty halls, seeing no signs of your date who you noticed after Toji’s arrival just happened to never come back from going to the bathroom and grabbing a quick drink. It’s like he vanished into thin fucking air.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Toji pleads, grabbing hold of your arm and you snatch yourself out of his hold.

“Don’t sweetheart me, Toji. What are you doing here?” You hiss and you hate the way his stupid pretty green eyes hold mirth in them. Like he’s enjoying that he’s made you mad. “What did you do?”

Toji’s smile widens more if that’s possible, the crescent scar on his lips only becoming more prominent. “What do you mean?��� He asks innocently.

You shoot him a glare. “You know what I mean. What did you do to my date this time? Knock him out in the bathroom? Drown him in Dr. Pepper? Hang him upside down from the roof until all the blood rushed to his head and he died?”

Toji hadn’t even thought about the last two, but he takes mental notes…for research.

He shrugs, though. Because he didn’t do any of those things. “I didn’t touch him.”

You stare into his eyes, getting even more pissed because you know he’s being honest. “Then what did you do?”

He steps towards you, holding his hand out. “Nothing bad at all. Can you really blame me if your date’s a flake? Maybe he just doesn’t appreciate you the way I do.”

You peer down at his hand, rolling your eyes as you turn on your heel and storm down the hall. You leave the building making a sharp turn around the corner towards your car. This dumb ass theater only has one entrance and exit which has to be a fire hazard, you think. To get to it, you have to go down one of the alleys down either side of the building.

Your feet carry you down the alley, Toji’s hurried steps rapidly catching up to you. His hand catches your wrist, turning you to look at him. You don’t pull away this time, knowing the more you push him away, the harder he’ll try to get closer.

“Hey. Hey, stop. Please,” he pleads and in the darkness of the alley, beneath the soft glow of the moon, his green eyes shine brightly. You have to close your eyes so you don’t immediately fall back into his hold. The second you look into his gaze, you know you’ll be his again. You shake your head.

“Toji, please. I left to get away from you. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m not doing anything, baby,” he says softly. “I just don’t understand why you’d leave without even saying anything.”

He genuinely sounds hurt. You do feel guilty, but you needed to do what was best for you and your life. Toji would ruin any chance you had at happiness with anyone else if given the chance. He would have never let you have a life in Tokyo, but here you were hundreds of miles away from the city…and he still won’t let you be happy if it’s not with him.

“You know why, Toji,” you breathe softly. “I can’t keep doing this jealousy thing with you. You just…get too crazy. Look at tonight.”

“Okay. That’s fair, but tonight, I really didn’t do anything. Your date broke his phone and I just…suggested he go hurry and get that fixed.”

Behind your closed eyelids, you roll your eyes because while that may be somewhat true, it’s not the whole truth and you know it.

“Still, Toji–”

He cuts you off, his other hand coming up to hold your cheek and you melt into his touch just like you knew you would. It’s annoying that literally closing yourself off to him does nothing because every part of Toji is your weak spot, crazy as he is.

You open your eyes to gaze up at him, those beautiful eyes of his peering into yours and you know you’re done for.

“I came all this way to see you, baby,” he rasped. “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”

You did. Fuck, you did miss him. You know that makes you an idiot to miss his crazy ass. You ran away from your entire life, from everything you’d known to get away from him and now that he’s standing right in front of you, your body is reacting in a way you couldn’t resist even if you tried. You know you should move, step away from his hold, but you don’t. You can’t.

Weak. Don’t do it!

It feels like you have an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other. Your brain is screaming at you to not give in to Toji, to turn around and leave him standing alone in this alley. But your heart is screaming for your brain to shut the fuck up.

You nod, inhaling deeply before sighing, giving in because you always knew you would. “I missed you, too, Toji.”

You don’t know why you miss him. Is it the excitement that comes with being with someone like Toji? Is it the way he wants you and only you even to the point he’d practically kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe even actually kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe you’re just as crazy as Toji – but you’re his all the time.

A small smirk curls at the corner of Toji’s lips, his other hand releasing your wrist to cup your other cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Toji leans forward and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you, your head tilting up to meet his lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he runs the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of yours over and over, letting out a shaky breath before he presses his forehead to yours.

“I might’ve threatened to crush your date's head in in the bathroom while he was taking a shit…” Toji confesses suddenly before he presses his mouth to yours.

This might’ve pissed you off before, but now, Toji’s confession goes straight to your core and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His hands tilt your head so he’s able to have more access to you, to take everything you have to offer like he always does.

The kiss heats up in no time. Toji grunts as your tongue tangles with his. Your hands come up to grab on to his shirt, tight as ever, bunching the fabric tightly in your fists. Toji steps back, guiding you to the wall of the alley, his kiss growing feverish, desperate. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips forward when he presses his hard body against yours.

Toji breaks the kiss, panting as he drinks in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips, that damn dress you’re wearing that’s keeping him from the rest of you. His fingers glide down the side of your face, along your neck and down your chest. They ghost over the swell of your breasts, over your nipples and he stops, running his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardening peaks, smiling to himself when your back arches off of the wall. He lets his hand continue their journey wandering down your form under he reaches the hem of your dress.

Then he feels his jealousy begin to crawl up his throat. He can’t help it when he thinks about you wearing this pretty dress for someone else.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, though the venom is dripping from the word. “You wear this for that fucker in the theater?”

Wide eyed and maybe a little dazed by the sudden change in attitude, you nod. Toji fists the hem of your dress, tugging the fabric gently.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you wore it for him?” He wants to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you gulp, heart thumping against your ribs. Not in panic, not in fear…but in excitement. “Yes, Toji. I wore it for him.”

Toji hums to himself…and then a loud shredding noise fills the empty space of the alleyway as Toji absolutely destroys the fabric of your dress. Heat pools in your core immediately, a soft gasp rushing past your lips. His hands come up to your waist, spinning you around. He presses his body against your back, your front pushing against the wall of the alley.

“So sweet of you to dress up for him,” Toji breathes as he leans down, running his nose along your neck, inhaling your scent. “Hope you had fun tonight.” His hands find the remnants of the hem of your dress and he pulls it up, bunching the fabric up at your waist. Then his hands are running along your body again, against your bare ass, brows lifting in surprise when he feels the thin line along your waist.

“Oh? A thong, too,” he hums, his voice sending chills up your spine. “Looks like you were planning on having fun tonight. Weren’t you?” You nod, but Toji clicks his tongue. “Words, baby.” 

You yelp quietly when Toji brings his large hand down on your exposed cheek. The loud smack echoes through the alley. “Yes,” you say breathlessly. “Yes, I was.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad your date left you then.” He tells you, and you can hear the fake pout coating his words.

Toji toys with the band of your thong before he hooks a finger into the band and easily rips the fabric of your underwear, too, and you think you’ll be lucky if you leave with even a single piece of clothing on after he’s done.

“I’m gonna touch you now. That okay?” He asks, because even through his jealousy, he’s a gentleman…sometimes.

“Yes, Toji.” 

Toji presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, you’re so good for me.” He slips his fingers between your folds, hissing the moment he feels your slick coat his hand. “So damn wet for me already. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Toji, please,” you whimper when his fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive nub. It’s enough to make your skin ignite with chills, but not enough to bring you even a little closer to the edge.

“I’m a little upset with you, you know?” Toji tells you casually. He slips one of his fingers into your cunt, grunting when your walls immediately squeeze down on him. “Fuck, you thought you could take this sweet little pussy and run away, huh?”

He pumps his finger in and out of your hole slowly, torturously. Your legs are trembling, hands pressed against the wall as you bite down on your lip to keep quiet. You’re in the open, getting fingerfucked in an alley. It would only take one person turning the corner for you to get caught literally with your pants down.

Your brows knit together as Toji keeps up his pace, leisurely adding another thick digit into your pussy. The coil in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every pump of his fingers, with every quiet squelch of your pussy.

“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing me like this,” Toji groans from behind you. “Wish this was my cock.” You whimper, pushing your hips back against his hand. “You want that, sweetheart?” He coos, curling his fingers into that spongy sweet spot that brings tears to your eyes. You gasp, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts, riding his hand. 

He continues, “Yeah? You want my cock to stretch this tight little pussy, huh? Want me to fill you up like I used to?”

“God, yes! Toji. Fucking fill me up, please, please,” you beg, reduced to a teary mess against the alley wall.

Toji chuckles, stopping his ministrations and you wait for him to start again, chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. When you feel his fingers leave your core, you damn near feel like sobbing. You hear his zipper come down, feel his cock springing against your ass and the stickiness of his precum smearing against your asscheeks.

He leans forward, a hand resting next to your head as he whispers into your ear, “You ready for me?” Then he pushes forward, his thick cock stretching you wide open for him. It burns in the most delicious way, but you still whine quietly. And it makes Toji pause.

“Tapping out already?” He chuckles, kissing the side of your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, baby. How many times have we done this? You can take it, right?”

“I can take it, Toji,” you mewl softly. “I can take it.”

“Good girl.” Toji nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn your head on instinct, your mouths connecting as Toji pushes forward, his cock slowly filling you. You pant into his mouth as his length stretches you open him, makes you accommodate him until he bottoms out, a deep groan leaving him.

The weight of his cock stretching you is enough. The moment Toji hits your sweet spot, your walls convulse, your orgasm catching you off guard just as a couple of patrons are walking past the dark alley. Toji puts a hand over your mouth, muffling your moans as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He doesn’t move…his gaze locked on the couple as they stand at the end of the alleyway talking to each other and laughing. They’re none the wiser to the way your pussy is clamping down so hard on his dick he could cry. It feels too good and he doesn’t have the patience to wait for them to fuck off. He’s been waiting. He’s done with that.

He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back, hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness and then he rolls his hips forward, hard. You cry out into his hand, eyes squeezed shut as Toji watches the couple from afar.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear, do you?” He taunts.

Them?

Your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision clearing enough to see a couple at the end of the alleyway. Right when you see them, Toji pulls back for a second time before he slams into you again over and over and over, grunting roughly into your ear as you both watch the couple at the end of the alleyway deep in conversation.

You pray they don’t come your way. You pray they turn around and go back the way they came…And some sick part of you prays Toji fucks you even harder because something about being so close to being caught has your arousal absolutely dripping down your thigh, coating Toji’s cock.

“You like this, huh?” Toji groans. “Hiding in plain sight, getting fucked like a slut? This is new for you.” He slams into you again, bottoms out into harder and harder, his hand squeezing down over your mouth to muffle your cries.

“This is why I love you so damn much,” he grunts, pressing his cock as far into you as possible before pulling back and doing it again. “You’re perfect for me, made for me.”

The couple at the end of the alley finally walks off, going the opposite way. The moment they’re out of sight, Toji releases your mouth, letting you cry out for him freely.

“Fuck, Toji!” You moan as he pounds into you with reckless abandon.

“Did you think…” he groans, hands coming down to squeeze your ass as he fucks into you. “There’s anywhere on this earth you could run to…” he’s panting, squeezing your ass so hard you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. “Where I wouldn’t find you?”

You’re keening into the open air now, taking every fucking harsh thrust Toji gives you. You press your forehead to the wall, feeling that familiar coil building up again, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re mine, fucking mine, sweetheart. I’ll always find you,” he grits, dragging his lips against your cheek, pressing possessive and wet kisses along your face and neck. “You could never run from me.”

He bottoms out again, his slick balls slapping hard against you, muttering, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fucking fill you up, put a fucking baby in there so you can never leave me again.”

There it is. The jealousy. The possessiveness. The craziness that you fucking love. And that’s all it takes for that coil to snap again. Your release crashes over you as you scream Toji’s name out, not caring who hears. He thrusts into you hard, fast, grunting, kissing your face sloppily until he pushes his cock into you as far as he can go. You feel him cum before he says he’s cumming, the warmth of his release filling your pussy, painting your pink walls white.

Toji buries his nose into your hair, trying to catch his breath as you both come down from your highs.

You’re an idiot. 

You tell yourself this as you come down from the high of your back to back orgasms. 

You’re an idiot…And maybe just as crazy as the man you ran away from in the first place.

Toji pulls out of you, tucks his cock away back into his pants and spins you back around. Toji places a wet kiss on your lips and takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s go home.”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

I've been promising this one for awhile.

Now Loading...

Starring: Mafia Boss!Sukuna

My contribution to @chrollohearttags Tales from the Underbelly collab! In which Gojo accidentally kidnaps the wrong girl, and our "heroes" have to decide what to do with her.

Content includes: slow burn smut, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, blood kink if ya squint, and slight indulgence of the writers breeding kink.

Trigger warnings include: Kidnapping, gun violence, gore, a dog attack, an attempt at assault and the use of the word "ravenette" once as a dare. Reader discretion is advised.

Your mom had warned you about meeting strange men online. You had assumed at the time it was just her weird boomer-esque tendencies, a fear born before the time of tinder. But as you breathed in your own breath from inside this itchy burlap sack, sitting tied up in this not-at-all comfortable chair, you started to think maaaybe she was on to something. 

It wasn’t your fault though, truly it wasn’t. This guy was hot. Like, unbelievably hot. So hot it was stupid. So hot he belonged on the cover of french magazines or in summer blockbuster movies that sell tickets not for the plot- but for the eye candy. Who wouldn’t risk life and limb to get a piece of that? You wondered if Satoru Gojo was his real name, just in case you needed to make a police report. You wondered if you’d get that far.

Okay, Y/n, no no, don’t think like that. That will get you killed. Calm down and assess the situation. What did you last remember? Your date. You met him at a bar, and was genuinely shocked when he matched his profile picture. You made idle chit chat, and your drink came. Did you order that drink? You couldn’t remember now. You did remember it tasting salty for a screwdriver though…

Shit, that guy definitely drugged you. Why?! It made no sense, you probably would have fucked him if he had just asked nicely! Hell, even if he had asked rudely, there was no need for this! You silenced your thoughts as you heard movement. A door opened and the sound of boots on concrete echoed through a far too big to be practical room. And then, a familiar voice.

“No dude, I got her!” That was definitely Gojo, the fuck ass. “It was so easy too.” He was laughing, because of course he was.

“Yea, that’s the problem. Excuse me for being suspicious, but this feels way too easy considering how long we’ve been chasing this woman,” another, much smoother voice said. Oh god, what the fuck had you gotten yourself into now? Why the fuck did weird shit always have to happen to you? It was like you were the main character in some fucked up wattpad, or Tumblr, fanfiction.

“Nah dude, it’s the real deal. Toji doesn’t keep his girl as wrapped up as we’ve been led to believe.” Gojo’s far-too-joyful-for-your-taste voice came again. It was much closer this time. Your body tensed as you realized the two of them were right next to you. “I matched with her on fucking tinder dude! All according to plan!”

“We’ll see about that.” Smoothie voice said. As he did, the bag was ripped off your head, and quite honestly you were too shocked to scream. You took the situation in front of you in with wide panicked eyes. There was your shitty date, looking far too proud of himself considering all he did was kidnap a helpless girl. And another man, crouched in front of your metal chair, taking in your features. Was this just a gang of people that was so attractive it was unfair? He ran a hand though his long dark hair, and knitted his perfectly sculpted eyebrows together as he looked at you. Then shook his head and stood up.

“You really did it now, idiot, that’s the wrong girl!” The ravenette snapped at your former tinder match. Satoru just blinked in disbelief.

“What?” He asked, and Oh boy, your brain started working again! Just in time for you to start screaming at the top of your lungs as the truly horrifying nature of your situation settled into your bones. This startled the men, causing them both to scream, and the dark haired one to even stumble away from you. 

“That was such a late reaction!!” Gojo yelled at you as he finally found words again.

“FUCK YOU SATORU GOJO, WHEN YOU KILL ME, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO HAUNT YOUR ASS!” You screamed at him, deciding if you were gonna die here you might as well fling a few threats around. 

“You used your real name for the honeytrap?!” The unnamed man hissed, punching Gojo in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Gojo yelped, “I thought it was her! I didn’t think it was gonna matter! What are we going to do Suguru?!” Oh, so Suguru was his name. Good to know.

“Don’t say my name!” Suguru snapped. Too late, you knew it already. “The boss is not going to be happy, you know this, right?”

“Well I mean, I-” Gojo started, before you cut in.

“Can I at least know why you guys are gonna kill me before it happens?” You asked. You wanted to know what to avoid for your next life. Gojo had the audacity to scoff at you.

“Wow, I was literally talking and you interrupted me,” He scoffed, “Rude much?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more considerate of the man who drugged and kidnapped me next time I open my mouth! As if that wasn’t rude as hell!” You hissed.

“Get married later, we have other problems!” Suguru demanded, snapping in front of Satoru to get his attention. “The boss is going to be here any minute, and we have the wrong girl!”

“Why don’t we just kill her?” Gojo asked. And look at that, you were screaming again. They both screamed with you, Suguru screaming over you and adding a “CAN WE PLEASE ALL STOP SCREAMING?!” at the end. 

And you did, because technically he had done nothing to wrong you, and you had no beef with him. Satoru shut up when you did. “Thank you!” He snapped, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples to try and fight off the migraine that was forming. “No, Gojo, we can’t just kill her! She’s an innocent, it goes against the code. You and I both know The Boss would have you castrated if you break the code.” Suguru reminded the man next to him. Oh, that was good news.

“So, I’m not gonna die?” You asked.

“You’re not gonna die.” “Nothing is off the table yet.” The men spoke in unison, glaring at each other as they finished their sentences.

“Sooooooo, you’re gonna let me go?!” You asked, beaming with a forced excitement, hoping it would rub off on them and they’d untie you then and there.

“It’s not that easy.” Suguru sighed, “If we let you go now, you’d definitely go to the cops, and you know at least his full name.” He said, glaring at Satoru once again.

“What if I promise not to go to the cops?” You asked.

“You and I both know that won’t work.” He looked almost sympathetic to your plight.

“What if I pinky swear not to go?” You asked. His sympathy vanished.

“In another life, you two are perfect for each other.” He scoffed to Gojo. Mere seconds after he said that, the door behind you opened again. Both men turned their full attention to the footsteps approaching, both looking terrified- though Gojo more than Suguru. You tried to look behind you, but alas, you were not an owl and could not turn your head 360 degrees around. 

“What did you two idiots fuck up now?” A low, gravely voice asked behind you. 

“What?!” Gojo tried to look offended, “Boss, I’m hurt! Why would you assume we fucked up?” he pouted. Suguru just dropped his head into his hands.

“Because it’s you Satoru, and when I came in here, you both looked at me like I was the cops and you had a corpse.” The voice scoffed, “And that never bodes well. Is that the girl?”

“So, you see, about that-” Suguru started, only to be cut off by a new man shoving his face in yours. The club of people that won the genetic lottery grew, and you hated to admit he was the sexiest member yet. Sharp features made more pronounced by a faceful of tattoos that absolutely shouldn't have been as attractive as they were. Hard eyes seemed to glow an unnatural red in the dim light of this garage(?) and his fluffy pink hair seemed both horrifically misplaced on his head, and perfectly matched all at the same time. Suddenly, you weren’t worried about your future. You were wondering what choices you had to make to sit on that perfectly sculpted face.

WAIT FOCUS Y/N, YOU’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! You flinched away from him, tensing up because well…that’s what people do in these situations, right? You saw a tic form in his perfect jaw, and he stood up. You got a good look at what he was wearing. Fitted slacks with a dress shirt, a well tailored vest on top making him ooze with expense. The others were dressed nice too, but he somehow managed to outshine them all. Maybe its because his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his tattooed wrists and gorgeous forearms. God truly did have favorites.

“You.” He demanded more than asked, turning to Gojo and pointing at him.

“Yes Sukuna?” Gojo asked, and Suguru couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped from his throat.

“Stop using names you fucking idiot.” Suguru hissed. So his name was Sukuna.

“Gojo come here.” Sukuna said again, instantly shutting up both men. Gojos eyes grew even wider with fear.

“I, um…I’d rather not boss, I-...You’re gonna hurt me.” Gojo gulped.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Sukuna assured him, and for a second he sounded so sincere and comforting, even you believed him. 

“D-...Do you promise?” Gojo asked, trepidation still flooding his voice.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” Sukuna said again. Slowly, like a wild animal learning to trust, Satrou crept over to his boss. It was then you noticed Sukuna’s rings. You noticed them, because the moment Satoru was in bitch slapping range, he got bitch slapped with the ring hand, so hard that if Suguru hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have hit the floor. 

“You said you weren’t gonna hurt me!” Gojo yelped. Suguru shook his head, unable to believe his friend fell for that.

“I lied!” The pink haired man snapped, “How’s it feel to be lied to Satoru?! Do you like it?! I know I sure fucking don’t.” He hissed as he slapped him again, “You said you had Toji’s wife! That’s not Toji’s fucking wife you imbecile!”

“Ha, take that asshat, that’s what you get!” You laughed, taking maybe a little bit too much joy in Satoru’s pain. And suddenly, all three men were staring at you. You shrunk a bit at the realization. “My bad, I shouldn’t have spoke,” You muttered, “I’ll let y'all get back to it.”

Sukuna took a long deep breath to try and reregulate himself before turning back to you. “Hi.” He said, giving a smile that you think was meant to be welcoming, but his naturally sharp canines just made it menacing. “Who are you?” He asked.

“I don’t know if it’s safe to tell you my name…” You muttered softly.

“You’re already tied up under my house babe, little late to be shy now.” He pointed out. Fair enough.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You said. He nodded and gave a small wave. 

"Hi Y/n. So what all do you kn-"

"Wait, what's your name?" You asked, cutting off a clearly powerful man. “Is Sukuna like, a title, or?” He stopped mid sentence and blinked at you, bringing his hands together in a death grip so he didn’t punch the disrespect out of your mouth. 

“Sorry, you threw me off. I’m not used to being interrupted.” He said through gritted teeth.

“That’s a common problem for her!” Gojo accused from Suguru’s arms, pointing for emphasis. This quickly got him dropped. Sukuna glared at him.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop talking.” He threatened Gojo before turning back to you. “My name’s not important right now. What is important is finding out just how much you know. So start talking doll.” He said, going into his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. 

“So, before I answer, am I more likely or less likely to go home based on how much I know?” You asked, “Cause I’d like to go home in one piece.” The pink haired man laughed at your words as he lit his smoke. Well, laughed is a strong word. More like he aggressively blew air out of his nose, like when you see a funny meme. 

“That’s cute Dollface,” He muttered, blowing the smoke out of his lungs, “Answer my question.”

“You answer mine first.”

“No, I won’t.” 

“Come on dude, I only want you to answer one question-”

“You only want one question answered?” It did suck to be interrupted, “Fine, I’m Sukuna. Now what do you know about us?” You were confused at first, until you realized he was answering one question you asked. Just not the question you wanted answered. Well shit.

“I know his name is Satoru Gojo, his is Suguru, you’re Sukuna, and you guys are looking for some guy named Toji’s wife. Oh, and Gojo takes dick pics with a ring light.” Sukuna closed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows at that last part, riding out the cringe wave.

“Dude, you don’t really do that, do you?” Suguru whispered to the man next to him.

“Good lighting makes the picture Suguru.” Gojo whispered back. 

“We didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna said, opening his eyes again.

“You asked what I knew.” You said, shrugging as best as you could considering you were tied up. 

“What are we going to do Boss?” Suguru asked, getting the team back on track. Sukuna took a long drag off his cigarette, trying to find an answer to that question. You were innocent, nowhere near the syndicates radar. You were a victim of them, it wasn’t fair to kill you for the crime of matching with a loser on tinder. It also went against what they stood for. At the same time though, they couldn’t just let you leave. You knew all of their names, for Satoru you knew his full name. Not only that, there was the risk of you letting it slip they were looking for Toji’s wife. Though, Toji probably knew that, all things considered. She did have a hit called out on Nanami after all, he’d be stupid not to assume they were looking for her. Fuck.

“Bring her upstairs.” Sukuna finally said, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He wondered why he kept Gojo on the payroll. “She’s our guest until further notice.” Suguru and Satoru shared a knowing glance before going and untying you.

“So you’re letting me go?!” You asked hopefully.

“Not quite,” Sukuna informed you, “Until we can find a more…permanent situation for you, you’re now the property of The Syndicate. Make yourself at home Doll.” He said as he put his cigarette back in his mouth.

“Hold on, what?!” You asked, struggling against Gojo and Suguru as they tried to drag you upstairs, “Wait, property?! Wait, hold on!” You yelped. Suguru rolled his eyes, deciding it was easier to just throw you over his shoulder at this point. “Hey! Put me down!”

“I don’t understand why you’re bitching, I thought you didn’t want to die?” He asked. And suddenly, this was all put into perspective for you. You either play nice, or you take a prolonged dirt nap. Shit. Not great options. You decided death wasn’t what you wanted, they did imply this was only temporary after all. You sighed and accepted your fate, going limp on Suguru’s shoulder. 

The sudden bright lights of the house blinded you after so long in the dim basement. You were happy when Suguru finally put you down, less so when you heard a giant dog barking, and claws scraping on hardwood. You turned around in enough time to see an absolutely massive Rottweiler running at you full speed, teeth bared. You yelped, going to try and hide behind Suguru or hell even Gojo, only to find they had already backed way the hell up; giving the beast room to turn you into dog food. You closed your eyes and tensed your body as you braced for impact.

The impact never came. When you opened your eyes, all you found was a dopey smile sitting politely in front of you, panting while waiting for pets. “Aww,” You smiled, reaching down to give him some ear scratches. His already wagging tail kicked it into high gear as you did, melting your heart. “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” You cooed in your baby voice.

Sukuna came up from the stairs then, rolling his eyes at the scene. “Wow Brutus, good job buddy, you’re so good at being a guard dog. No ones gonna break in here, lest they get drooled on.” He scoffed.

“To be fair, Brutus’ slobber is a genuinely terrifying thing.”  Suguru pointed out. 

“It gets everywhere.” Gojo confirmed. 

“I think you guys are just cowards.” You shrugged, petting the good boy on they head.

“They are.” Sukuna confirmed, also giving Brutus a solid pat for good measure. He turned to you then. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You questioned. 

“That’s what I said,” His voice had an edge to it, like he was losing his patience with every second that passed. He turned to Gojo and Suguru. “Gojo, you know where she lives right?”

“Yea, I do.” He nodded. You did not like what that implied, considering you hadn’t given him your address. But, you were already kidnapped, so, maybe it was a little late to worry.

“Good. Take Geto and go grab her essentials. Clothes, toothbrush-”

“Oh, my switch!” You added. Sukuna glared at you from the corners of his eyes. “What?” You asked, “Someone’s gotta take care of my animal crossing island!” Sukuna closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Her switch, I fucking guess, and bring it back here.” He said, “Don’t fuck it up.” He wasn’t sure how they would fuck it up to be fair, but they had surprised him before. 

“Got it Boss!” Satoru said, saluting Sukuna before grabbing Suguru and heading for the door.

“Oh, and Gojo?” Sukuna called right before they reached the door. Gojo froze.

“Yea Boss?”

“We’re not done here. See me when you get back.” His voice was dark. Nothing he said was threatening, but if that was true then why were the hairs on the back of your neck standing up? And why did Gojo physically cringe, as if future him was giving him a taste of pain yet to come? 

“Understood Boss.” He said, leaving with Suguru. And with that, you were alone with a mob boss. Sukuna turned to you, blatantly eyeing you up. You suddenly felt shy under his gaze.

“Come on, your room is upstairs.” He said, moving past you to an opulent staircase on the opposite wall of the living room. You followed him, not really sure what else to do. 

“You know, you’re surprisingly calm about all of this.” Sukuna said as the two of you climbed the stairs, “Not gonna lie, I kinda expected you to like…argue with me about all of this.”

“Do you want me to argue with you?” You asked.

“No, not really. I’m just curious about why you’re not.” He explained.

“Rent’s expensive,” You shrugged, “I was like, a week away from eviction.” You admitted, looking down to try and hide your shame. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong either. You had done everything right, followed all the money tips you could, given up iced coffee. Turns out, rent is substantially more expensive than iced coffee and when your job doesn't pay a living wage, well- living is hard. “Honestly, I kinda need a place to crash.”

“Oh, I see. Well, lucky you then.” He chuckled softly as you reached the top of the staircase. You didn’t know if you’d call yourself lucky, but, you’d take what you could get. “Here, this one’s yours.” Sukuna said, opening a door to the right. You walked into an extravagant red room, a giant bed covered in black silk with a tall canopy sat as the center piece with a black wardrobe off to the side. 

“Is this like, your sex room?” You asked, your mouth moving faster than your brain. He gave a short snappy ‘HA!’ at your joke, shaking his head softly.

“Yeah, you wish.” He accused, and yeah he was right. You kinda did wish. “This is just the guest room.”

“So…Do I live with you now?” You asked as you moved to sit on the bed. A reasonable question. Sukuna leaned against the doorway, moving his head back and fourth in the universal motion of ‘I have no fucking idea, give me a sec while I think of what to say.’

“Eh, “live” is a strong word.” He finally said with a shrug. “You’re just here until we can come up with a better solution.” He explained. You nodded, accepting that you weren’t going to get a straight answer- because he didn’t have one to give. 

“Well that’s exciting.” You mumbled, trying to rub the tired out of your eyes. It had been a long day.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll figure out what to do with you in a few days.” He tried to comfort you, before finally leaving you alone.

🚬🚬🚬

A few days had quickly turned into a few weeks. You had acclimated to your new life well, learning when to ask questions and when not to. Brutus had become your best friend, and Sukuna your odd roommate who left at weird times in the night. You were more comfortable with your situation than you were willing to admit. Turns out, you weren’t above all those other Y N girlies that immediately got stockholm syndrome after a day of kidnapping.

Still, that didn’t mean you felt particularly safe. The moment you started to, something happened. The very next time you saw Gojo after he left to grab your things, his arm was in a cast. You would hear screaming- or worse begging- from the basement. An already hushed conversation would fall completely silent as you came down the stairs. There was always something to remind you that you were not here of your own free will. 

“Ummm…Shota?” You asked from your spot on the couch, watching him put on his jacket.

“Nope.” 

“Hmmm…Akira?” Your relationship with Sukuna was an odd one. The two of you had grown comfortable with each others presence, enough that you would find yourself casually hanging out with him, or in this case, pestering him as you tried to guess his first name.

“Wrong again.” He said, checking the jacket to make sure his cigarettes were in one of the pockets. They weren’t.

“Yuji?”

“Gross no- Do I look like a Yuji to you?” That one seemed to genuinely offend him a bit. You had to be getting close.

“Yagi?”

“Y/n, why does it matter to you so much that you know my first name?” He asked, grabbing his smokes from the end table next to the couch. He made eye contact with you when he did it, and you felt your stomach flutter. That was another thing that was quickly developing. It seemed like every day it took less and less from him to make you flustered. 

“Cause you know mine!” You said, pressing your thighs together to push back your less than holy thoughts. “It only seems fair that I should know yours too.”

“I’m not interested in what’s fair Doll, you should know that.” He said, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. You hated when he called you Doll, mostly because of how much you loved  it when he called you Doll. It always stirred something in you that you tried to suppress, something you knew would make an already not ideal situation worse. Admitting you had feelings for Sukuna felt akin to a death sentence right now, especially considering the very real likelihood that they were one sided.

“If you weren’t interested in what’s fair, you would have killed me by now!” You pointed out.

“Don’t forget to feed Brutus, I’ll be home late.” He completely ignored your very valid point. You huffed as you watched him walk out of the door. Bastard. Asshole. Tyrant, even! In the space between where your true feelings were-and what you were willing to admit to feeling- resentment grew. He had ripped you from the life you had built before, and cultivated this caricature of intimacy that he fully expected you to participate in; all while refusing to give you information as basic as his first name. It wasn’t just unfair, at times it felt cruel.

A soft whine from the nearby kitchen brought you back to reality. You smiled softly at the gentle giant waiting for dinner. “You hungry buddy?” You asked, laughing at his happy woof as you got up to fill his bowl. 

You went about your nightly routine as you normally did, minus dinner with Sukuna, ending the night curled up on the couch in your pajamas with Brutus, reading one of the many books that littered the mansion. You couldn’t focus on the words though, your mind finding the ticking of the clock much more interesting. Something was off. You looked up to see that it was already 5 AM. Sukuna was prone to coming home late, but never this late. Something was wrong. 

You weren’t sure what to do here. You were captive here, it’s not like you had access to a phone. Even if you did, who would you call? You knew Nanami was his most reliable comrade, but if Sukuna was in trouble there was a 70% chance Nanami was too. Suguru? Maybe, but- you shook your head as you realized none of this mattered when you had zero way of contacting any of these men. You could try and go look for him yourself, but you knew the door was locked. It needed a code to be opened, a code you didn’t have. Brutus whined from beside you, feeding off your nervous energy. Your fingers felt numb as you mindlessly chewed your nails, failing to think of anything other than where Sukuna was at that moment.

“Where are you Suka-” It was like you summoned him, before you could even finish your sentence the door exploded open and he came tumbling inside. You thought having him come home would be a relief, but the blood covering his side washed away any possible relief that could have come from his return.

“Motherfucker-” Was all he could get out before collapsing against the wall next to the door.

“Sukuna!” You yelled, rushing to his side, “Sukuna, holy shit, what happened?!” You demanded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you tried to lead him to the couch. You thought it would have been harder, moving a wall of muscle that much bigger than you any amount. But it turns out, adrenaline really is one hell of a drug!

“I got shot, what’s it look like happened?!” He snapped, hissing through his teeth as you placed him on the couch. Suddenly, you understood why everything in this house was red. He almost disappeared into the scarlet couch, the red consuming him, threatening to take him away. “Brutus! First Aid!” He yelled, before groaning in pain. Somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket, making it a lot easier for you to rip off his bloodied dress shirt. 

Oh man, that was bad. You weren’t even queasy around blood, but there was a lot here. Before you could get too much in your head and lose your dinner, you felt a fuzzy head nudge into your leg. You looked down to see Brutus looking up at you, first aid kit hanging from his mouth. He was officially the smartest dumb dog you had ever met. 

“Oh, Good boy Brutus!” You praised, scratching the sides of his face and his floppy ears.

“Y/n, losing blood kinda fast over here!” Sukuna reminded, quickly snapping you back into the severity of the moment.

“Right, sorry!” You yelped, opening the kit. Of course Sukuna wouldn’t have a normal first aid kit. This was one of the most extensive kits you’d seen. You pulled the latex gloves over your hands before straddling his lap, trying to get a better look at him. Three bullet wounds, one logged into his shoulder, one to his side under his rib cage, and one that just grazed his side. You could still see the bullet in the first two.

“Oh jesus..” You muttered, grabbing the long glorified tweezers from the kit, “So, uh, this is gonna hurt.” You said, mouth moving without your mind. 

“Oh, that so?!” He snapped, “I thought it was gonna feel like fucking butterfly kisses!” Oh man, he was starting to look pale.

“Okay, well now I’m not sorry for this.” You muttered, digging the tweezers into his shoulder to get the bullet. He hissed sharply through his teeth, hands finding your hips and grabbing you hard enough to bruise. This was not the scenario you thought of when you imagined Sukuna bruising your hips, but life is often funny that way.

“Okay, that’s one out.” You said as you extracted the metal. He let out a shallow breath, trying hard to regulate his breathing. 

“Fuck Y/n..” He whined, and you felt your chest burn. You wondered if that’s what he would sound like on to-NOPE not the time to think like that! 

“I’m going to get the second one now, okay?” You asked. He nodded, his body tensing against his will in anticipation. This one was deeper. You watched his abs flex as he moaned in pain, biting his lip to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain in his abdomen. This would be a lot easier if he could stop being hot for like, five seconds. “I’m sorry.” You muttered softly, wishing there was anything you could do to help with the pain.

“Don’t- Don’t.” You could tell he wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t. You finally pulled the final bullet out. You pulled the bottle of iodine out of the kit, assuming it was for disinfecting- something he was going to desperately need. You wanted to suggest a hospital, but you knew better. A hospital meant cops, and he couldn’t have that. Especially not right now. So you poured a generous amount of the iodine on his wounds, only for him to scream.

“AAH, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” He yelped as a new wave of pain scorched it’s way through his body.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS A DISINFECTANT!” You yelled in panic, using a piece of gauze to try and wipe it up.

“YEAH, FOR BURNS.”

“THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO USE?!”

“WATER!!” Oh yeah, that checked. The bottle of distilled water in the kit made a lot more sense now. You opened it, using that to clean his wounds instead, and using it to try and wash away some of the dried blood in the process. 

“Shit, I’m sorry! I’m not a nurse, okay!?” You tried to defend yourself in a panic. Then it dawned on you the next step in the process. “I wasn’t very good at home ec either...” You confessed.

“What does that have to do with- Oh god.” He threw his head back on the couch as he realized stitches were next. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before pulling his head back up, his eyes meeting yours almost instantly. It was like he was searching your very soul for something, though you had no idea what he was trying to find. You wanted to shrink away, but you found yourself trapped by his gaze. 

“I trust you Y/n. Don’t fuck me up.” He finally said. You wondered how he could be so confident in anything while bleeding out on a couch, but you guessed that was a question for some other time. You nodded, grabbing the surgical needle and thread. It couldn’t be that hard, right? In one side and out the other. You had this.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as you made the first sitch, digging his nails into your hips and subconsciously pulling you closer. He flinched at the second stitch, bucking his hips into yours in the process. 

“Hold still!” You chastised him. You really wished all of this was happening under different circumstances. You realized this was probably the closest you had ever been to him. Focus Y/n, focus! You finished his shoulder, before moving on to the one in his side, and finishing with the gash. You were shocked how good your stitches were when you weren’t over thinking it. Not perfect by any means, but far better than you thought. 

“Okay, the worst is over.” You said, pushing his damp hair out of his face gently. He looked at you through his eyelashes, an expression you had no hope of reading on his face. You cleared your throat before grabbing the gauze to bandage him up. He was quiet while you worked. You had almost finished with the bandages when he spoke again.

“Ryomen.” He finally said.

“What?” You asked, confusion leaking into your voice as you finished wrapping up the last wound. You looked at him.

“My name’s Ryomen.” You weren’t sure what you expected him to say after all of this, but it definitely wasn’t that. You stared at him, trying to figure out how to process any of what the fuck just happened. Was this your life now? Was this your forever? He brought a shaky hand to the side of your face, brushing away a tear you didn’t even know was there.

“Why are you cryin’ Doll?” He asked softly. His eyes didn’t have the edge you were so used to in them. Be it from the blood loss or him being grateful for your subpar nursing, all of his edges had been rounded down to soft bumps. 

“I thought I was going to lose you..” You whimpered softly. 

“Oh, Y/n,” He cooed softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t cry over me.” He lazily rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort you despite the fact he was the one that had just got shot, multiple times. You were sure the blood loss was getting to his head, this was far too intimate. Far too sweet. The stress of the situation hit you all at once, the adrenaline leaving your body as distress took it’s place. 

You took a jagged breath in, realizing you were crying as you did so. He quietly pulled you into a hug, pressing you into his chest. The steady beat of his heart admittedly brought you some comfort, reminding you that he was alive and well-ish. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. When you woke up in your room the next morning, you were convinced it was all a bad dream. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to lug your sleeping body to your room after all of that, right?

The faint blood stains on the couch told a different story.

🚬🚬🚬

If you thought your relationship with Ryomen was weird before, it was really weird now. Before, you were positive you had a one sided crush. Something brought on by proximity and not much else, and a feeling he most definitely did not share. Now though? Now you were sure there was something else there, and that he felt it too. It showed itself in small ways. In the way he brushed against you when you were cooking together, in the way Suguru’s job had gotten significantly harder when Ryomen had noticed how close the two of you had gotten, and in the way he had gotten more protective of you than he had ever been before. 

“Oh Suge Knight totally had 2pac killed.” Suguru said with a shrug.

“No way, that doesn’t make sense!” You argued, “Why would he call a hit on his best selling artist?”

“To take control of his catalog, duh,” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “More money to be made if you don’t have an artist to pay.”

“Yeah, except now there’s no artist to make more music and therefore more money!” you pointed out, “Besides, why would he have a car he’s in get shot up?”

“So people ask that exact question!” Suguru argued, waving his hands for emphasis.

“Do you two have nothing better to talk about than decades old conspiracy theories?” Ryomen asked as he entered the kitchen, walking up to the bar where you sat with Suguru. He always seemed annoyed when the two of you hung out together. The toxic part of your brain liked it. Satoru wasn’t far behind him, his wrist still in a brace from a months old injury. You felt a little bad when you saw it these days. It must have been a nasty shatter. 

“I’d argue there’s no better topic of conversation than decades old murder conspiracies.” Satoru said, taking a seat next to Suguru. 

“I’d argue you’re the last person I’d consider an authority on topics of conversation.” Nanami said, suddenly alerting you to his presence. That man was like a ghost, you only saw him when he wanted you to. He moved over to the fridge, pulling out a beer and using the counter to open it. A move that would get Satoru or Suguru a one way ticket to the afterlife, completely ignored by Ryomen because Nanami was useful.

“Y/n, I need you to go to your room.” Ryomen said, checking his watch. “Sooner rather than later.”

“What, why?” You asked, not a fan of being kicked out of the kitchen you now considered to be yours. 

“Because I told you to. Don’t come out until I come get you.” His tone left no room for argument or conversation. You bit your tongue, knowing better than to undermine him in front of his men, especially his lieutenants. 

“Whatever.” You groaned as you left, going and locking yourself in your room. As much as it annoyed you, this was fairly common at this point. Whenever the boys had “Official Business” you’d be banished to your bedroom until they deemed it safe for you to be let free. A very clear reminder that you were an outsider here. You weren’t in your room long before there was a knock on your door.

“Already?!” You asked.

“No.” Nanami said, “I’m here to deliver Brutus.” Confused, you went and opened the door. Sure enough, Brutus came barreling into the room as the door opened, going and jumping onto your bed. “Boss wants him to be with you.” Nanami said, as if that was going to answer your puzzled look. 

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked in a hushed tone. Nanami's eyes darted over to the staircase, making sure no one was coming up them.

“A representative of Naoya Zenin is going to be here tonight.” Zenin. You heard that name enough before to know he was one of Ryomen’s rivals, someone previously teamed up with Toji.

“What? Why is he sending someone here?”

“Fushiguru has been shorting him and his team when it comes to their cut of narcotics sales. Considering they’re the ones making all the drugs Toji sells, he’s not happy about it. So he’s looking to start a partnership with us instead.” You were thankful for Nanami. Everyone else here treated you like a delicate flower: like telling you what was going on would make you wilt. Nanami had always kept it straight with you, telling you the facts as they were. To him, you were just as involved as they all were, even if that was only due to your proximity to it all.

“And he’s not showing up himself?” You asked, remembering that Nanami had said a representative of his was coming. He shrugged.

“What can I say? The man’s a coward.” There was a knock on the door after he said that, signaling to him that he needed to get back downstairs. “Stay safe Y/n.” He said, turning to join the others.

“You too.” You responded, but you were pretty sure he didn’t hear it. You sighed as you closed your door, joining the overgrown puppy on your bed. You decided to hop on your switch, needing some way to kill the time. You weren’t sure how long you spent trying to get Moose off your island before you registered that Brutus was whining by your door. 

“What’s wrong big guy?” You asked, putting your switch down. He whined some more, shifting uncomfortably in front of the door. “Oh no, you have to potty, don’t you?” You could have sworn that dog nodded at you. Really?! They didn’t let him out first?! You wondered what to do. You knew disobeying Ryomen wasn’t acceptable, but you couldn’t just let your baby suffer! Another whimper from Brutus made the decision for you. Ryomen would understand.

You opened your door and walked Brutus down the stairs, hoping you could avoid wherever the meeting was happening. You should have known that was delusional, because the moment you walked into the kitchen, you found them all holding their meeting around the bar. Ryomen pinched the bridge of his nose the moment he saw you. Ah fuck.

“Well hello there Gorgeous, who are you?” A man you had never seen before asked. He made your stomach turn. He had his long blue hair parted into three pony tails, and long surgical scars marred his face. That wasn’t what made him so revolting though. It was his smile. It didn’t feel right. Like a monster recreating it’s prey’s mannerisms, a wolf in poorly fitted sheep’s clothing. You wished you stayed in your room.

“It doesn’t matter who she is, you’re not here to talk to her.” Ryomen said, allowing no room for conversation. You followed his lead, going and opening the back door for Brutus without acknowledging the mimic in your home. 

“Oh, don’t be rude Sukuna. Is she your wife?” It asked.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not here to talk about my personal life.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He turned to you, and you wished Brutus would hurry up. “I’m Mahito sweetie. And you are?”

“I think the Boss made it clear, we should get back on topic.” Nanami said, adjusting to put his hand in his suit jacket. The Mahito creature got the hint, raising his hands in his defense.

“Okay, okay, okay. Pardon me for trying to be polite at a business meeting, I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Ryomen said, lighting a smoke and watching closely as Brutus ran in and took his place by your side. He saw the way Brutus held back a growl. That wasn’t a good sign. “You said Zenin wanted fifty percent? That’s not going to work for us.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Selling is signif-” That was all you heard as you rushed back up stairs. Once in your room, you tried to regulate your heartbeat, to clam your jittering bones. You felt like you had just encountered some old primal evil. Something so off your ancestors were warning you to be weary of it from beyond the grave. You sat next to Brutus on your bed, hiding your face in his fur to try and calm down. 

It worked for a while, until you heard him growl. You looked up to see the monster in your room. You yelped softly, instinctively backing away. You wished you hadn’t forgotten to close your door.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, showing that “smile” again. “I just thought it was a shame we didn’t get to properly meet back there.” Your blood felt slimy in your veins as you realized you were going to have to play nice with this guy. His business was important to Ryomen, or else he wouldn’t be in the house.

“Oh, yea I guess.” You muttered softly, petting Brutus to try and calm him.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked, stepping even further into your room and closing the door behind him. Your joints suddenly felt weak with static, every fiber of your animal brain telling you you were dealing with a predator. 

“Y/n.” You responded, refusing to make eye contact with his mis-matched eyes.

“That’s a pretty name Y/n. You Ryomen’s girl, or his pet?” You didn’t like anything coming out of his mouth.

“I’m um, his roommate.” You guess, and instantly realized you guessed wrong. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes.” He said, and you realized he was getting closer. You stood up, only to realize he was in between you and the door. 

“Hey, uh, I really think you should go back down, they’re probably looking for-”

“I don’t care.” He scoffed, closing the distance and grabbing you. He tried to force you on the bed, but I guess that dumb ass missed the giant fuck you dog that was in that room for the sole purpose of protecting you. He didn’t get past putting his hands on your shoulders before Brutus’s teeth were in his leg, ripping muscle from bone. The scream that left Mahito was visceral, the kind that haunts people at night.

“RYOMEN!!” You yelled, pressing yourself against the wall while Brutus did his thing, jerking his head, pulling the man away from you as another horrific scream left him.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryomen snapped, ripping your attention away from the bloody scene in front of you and to the four men spilling into your room, Ryomen leading the pack.

“CALL OFF YOUR DOG!” The rag doll begged.

“Brutus, down!” Ryomen ordered. Without hesitation the Rott had let go, and had placed himself between you and your attacker in case he needed to act again.

“Oh thank-” Mahito didn’t get to finish that sentence. 

“He’s mine.” Ryomen growled, grabbing him by his scalp. “You think you can come into my house and attack my girl and get away with it?!” He snapped, taking the lit cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in Mahitos’ right eye. You’re not sure what was going to stick with you more, the smell- or the sound that came out of the monster. Ryomen threw the screaming, bloodied man, to the floor behind him. “Take him to the basement, I’ll be there soon.” He said. Without hesitation all three men acted, grabbing the begging Mahito and dragging him down the stairs.

Ryomen walked over to you, gently taking your head in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, Brutus protected me.” You hated the quiver in your voice as you said that. Ryomen looked down at the dopey dog, smiling with blood on his muzzle. He gave a small affectionate smile as he pet the dog. 

“Good boy.” He praised before turning back to you. “I’m going to go take care of the trash in the basement, then I’ll be back, okay?”

“I’m so sor-”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. He did. I’ll be back.” He assured you, gently patting your cheek before leaving the room you weren’t sure you felt safe in anymore. You weren’t sure how long he was gone for. At least long enough for you to clean up Brutus, and to try and clean up all the gore. At least your carpet was dark gray. You wondered how many other stains it hid, and of what variety.

You weren’t expecting how relieved you were when you finally heard a knock, opening the door to reveal a freshly showered Ryomen. You wondered what he looked like before washing the blood away, but the only image your mind conjured was him bleeding out on the couch. So you stopped wondering.

“Pack a bag, you’re leaving.” He explained. His tone was unreadable, and all it did was piss you off.

“What? What do you mean I’m leaving?!” You demanded.

“I mean wh-”

“No Ryomen, I want an actual fucking explanation.” You saw his jaw clench, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You gotta get better about that interrupting bullshit.” He growled. “Zenin is definitely going to send someone to look for his missing boy. And when he does, he’s not going to find you here. Gojo already reserved you a hotel suite for a week, it’s temporary.” He explained as he walked away. “I’ll be waiting for you in the living room.”

You groaned as you threw together a bag. You understood his reasoning, but you were getting real sick of feeling like nothing in your life was under your control. Like you were at the mercy of a crazed mob boss. Probably because you were. You were starting to wonder if all of this was really worth not having to pay rent.

Ultimately you decided it was. Really, it was no different from existing under capitalism, and at least in this situation you could sometimes reason with your captor. You came downstairs with your bag, took at least ten minuets to say goodbye to Brutus- promising him you’d be back and that he was the best boy- and finally loaded yourself into Ryomen’s too-expensive-for-you-to-be-in car. The drive was silent, tense almost. He chain smoked out of the window, not even bothering to look at you.

“Um, are you mad at me?” You finally had to ask.

“No.” Well that didn’t sound like he wasn’t mad at you.

“You sound mad.” You pointed out.

“Good observation.” He scoffed, throwing his dead cigarette butt out the window, and immediately going to light another. 

“That’s probably not good for your lungs ya know.” His glare could have frozen the sun. “I’m just sayin’!”

“I promise you, I’d be lucky if lung cancer is what kills me.” He “assured” you.

“You promise you’re not mad at me?”

“Y/n.” He growled, “I said I’m not mad at you, didn’t I? Why can’t you just believe me?”

“Cause you sound like, really really ma-”

“That’s because I’m mad at myself, not you!” He snapped, before catching himself with a growl, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. He took a long drag off his smoke and ashed it out the window, holding the smoke in his lungs until the burn threatened to consume him. “Just. Drop it.” He finally said as the two of you pulled into a hotel parking lot. It was honestly nicer than you were expecting! “We’re here.” He informed you, grabbing your bag as the two of you left the car. 

It was clear Sukuna was known here, considering he didn’t technically check in. He was just given a key as he passed the front desk, and told a room number. You hoped it wasn’t that easy for everyone. He ushered you to the elevator before giving you the spare key he was given. “Room 237.” He said.

“Wait, like The Shining?!” you gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I-I guess?” He very clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction to informing you of your room number. “Sorry, I’m thrown, are you excited or?-”

“I just think it’s neat.” You beamed.

“...Okay.” Sukuna sighed, deciding he had more important things to worry about at the moment than if you liked your room number or not. Once inside the room, he immediately started checking for bugs, both the organic and inorganic kind. An old habit that he saw no need to kill. While he did that, you looked around the suite, familiarizing yourself with the layout.

“Hey, Ryomen? I only see one bed?” You questioned, not finding another place for him to sleep.

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” He asked, joining you in the bedroom.

“Well where are you going to sleep?” You inquired. He was confused again. 

“In my bed? At my house?” Oh hell no he wasn’t!

“What?! No way, you can’t leave me!” You protested, getting real sick of his shit.

“I assure you, I can do whatever I want,” He scoffed, “Someone needs to watch the house.”

“Fuck that, have Nanami do it! What if they find me here?!” You didn’t have Brutus, and you weren’t confident in your ability to hold your own in a fight with experienced criminals.

“No one is going to come for you here Y/n-” He tried to reason, but you were having none of it.

“Are you sure?!” You demanded, “Can you promise me that?! Can you look me in the eye and swear to me that we weren’t followed? That no one’s going to show up here looking for you and hurt me instead? That no one wants revenge for that ragdolls life?! Can you be sure?!” He was quiet. Truth be told, he couldn’t. And he had already fucked up and let you get hurt once, he wasn’t going to do it again. He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll call Nanami and have him-”

“I don’t want Nanami here, I want you.” You insisted. Your words hung heavy in the air, both of you trying to hear what was left unsaid in the silence. The tension was growing, begging for someone to say something, anything. Finally, Ryomen sighed again,

“Okay, I’ll stay. Let me go call Nanami so he knows to watch the house.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and stepping out to call his lieutenant. He was gone for longer than you expected. You worried about what was being said, though you didn't know why you were so worried. You just felt anxious. Finally, he came back.

“Alright, everything is settled.” He let you know, “I’m going to sleep on the couch, just…get some sleep okay?” He said, gently cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He assured you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded. 

“Okay, thank you.” You sighed, looking up at him. He was closer than you realized. He hadn’t let go of your cheek yet either. Your eyes connected, and for a split second, the whole world seemed to stop. He was close enough you could smell the coffee and cigarette scent that seemed to permanently cling to him. If you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat coming off of him. “Kiss me.” You mentally begged him, “Kiss me, just kiss me!”

“Sleep well Y/n.” He said, patting your face as he left the room. You almost screamed at him to get back here and finish what he started, but realized it probably wouldn’t do much. If he wanted to, he would have. He said it himself, he does whatever he wants. You settled for just screaming into the pillow as you flopped into the overly stuffed mattress instead. This shit sucked. 

Everything felt hot, too hot. You felt like you were caught in an inferno, feeling his hips buck into yours. You felt his warm mouth trail kisses down your neck. You twisted your hands, feeling your wrists flex under his large hand. “You’re so good for me pretty girl.” He praised in your ear.

“Ryomen-” You gasped, saying his name like a prayer.

“Say it again Y/n.”

“Ryomen..”

“Again..”

“Ro-”

“Y/n!” You jumped out of your sleep, yelping softly as Sukuna’s voice jolted you out of the dream realm. You looked around, trying to reorient yourself. You still felt flustered from your dream, and now flustered from embarrassment. 

“Ryomen?” You asked, looking at the man sitting on the side of your bed, him looking at you with concerned eyes in return. “What are you doing in here?”

“You called for me.” He informed you, and you wanted to melt away from the embarrassment. “I thought you we’re having a nightmare, so I woke you up,” He explained, “Are you okay?”

“A nightmare…yeah…” You took the excuse and ran, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I don’t even remember what happened in it honestly…” You lied. He sighed and rubbed his face, getting up to leave. “Wait!” You called, grabbing his hand before he could get too far. There goes your stupid body, moving faster than your brain again. “I-...I don’t want to be alone.” You explained. It was technically the truth. 

He looked down at you, quiet for a second, then grumbled. “Whatever. Scoot over.” He muttered. You smiled, happy to make room for him. He slipped himself under the covers, getting comfortable surprisingly quickly for someone in a dress shirt and slacks. For a guy that was surrounded with luxury and creature comforts, he really didn’t seem to need any of them. It didn’t seem like he was very accustomed to them either. He laid on his back, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable his chest looked. 

So you moved next to him, resting your head on his chest. He looked down at you, but didn’t push you away. Quite the opposite actually, he wrapped one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side. It woke up the butterflies in your stomach, sending them into overdrive. 

“Thank you.” You whispered to him. 

“For what?” He asked.

“Staying with me. Taking care of me.”

“...Di-..did you just thank me for kidnapping you?” He questioned, looking down at you as best he could and raising an eyebrow. You laughed a little at his reaction.

“I guess I did, yeah.” You giggled, trying to push yourself closer to him.

“You’re welcome?” You never failed to confuse and confound him. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. You kept him on his toes. “You know most people aren’t okay with being kidnapped, right? It’s considered a bad thing.”

“I’m not most people.” You shrugged. “Like, yeah I see how on paper it’s bad but..I don’t know. It kinda came at the perfect time for me. I got to walk out of my shitty job, I didn’t have to deal with getting evicted, let’s not even get started on how honestly lonely I was..I don’t know. I guess it’s bad for most people, but it was a miracle for me. Is there a word for bad miracle?”

“Your stalkhom syndrome is showing.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” You chuckled, shifting to be able to look up at him, “Have you ever considered I just like being around you?”

“Why would you?” He muttered.

“Why wouldn't I?” You replied. There it was again. That warm feeling that seemed to envelop you wherever you were in Ryomen’s arms, coupled with the feeling that comes right before the lighting strikes. You used the dim moonlight fluttering in from your window to connect your eyes with his. You swore up and down his eyes glowed in low light, the unnatural red that should be so off putting only drawing you deeper into him. 

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered softly, and you felt your chest tighten. He had never said anything like that to you before. It made you feel almost giddy, your heart doing the screaming and squealing your throat wouldn’t currently allow. Before you could respond, his lips were finally on yours and it felt like fireworks were going off in every fiber of your being. You felt your blood rushing in your veins as you moved to tangle your fingers in his hair, months of tension finally snapping in a million electric sparks. 

He bit your lip, using your soft gasp to deepen the kiss. He pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, growling softly as you tugged at his hair. It was like the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other, trying to make up for months worth of lost time and build up with one impossibly impassioned kiss. He rolled the two of you over so you were under him, and moved to kiss your neck. You moaned softly as he did, feeling the bruises he was biting already starting to form. You loved the idea of it, of obvious evidence you really were his girl. 

You felt your breathing get heavy as he ran his hands up your waist and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin waiting for him there. He pulled away long enough to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sleep shorts.

 “Fuck.” He whispered when he finally saw you without your top on. He took the time to truly marvel you, the way you imagined a painter would look at his magnum opus. It filled you with a confidence unlike anything else, for someone so beautiful to look at you the way Adonis had looked at Aphrodite. 

“You look so much better than I imagined.” he praised, finally finding his voice again. 

“So you’ve imagined me topless?” You teased.

“I’ve imagined more than just you topless.” He smirked, hands roaming lower on your body. You felt your breath hitch in your chest as he hooked his thumbs under your shorts. You weren’t positive this wasn’t another dream, but either way, you planned to enjoy this. Though, he was wearing far too much clothes for that. Before he could take your bottoms off, you were sitting up, connecting your lips to his again as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. You always thought he looked stunning in them, but right now you despised the small buttons. He chuckled a bit, pulling away from you.

“Eager, huh?” he teased, “Here, I got it.” You felt almost embarrassed as he expertly got all the buttons undone and the shirt off in the time it took you to unhook three of them. But- in your defense- he took those shirts off everyday and this was your first time taking anything off him. You bit your lip as you took in his topless form. It looked so much better not covered in blood, you could better see the tattooed skin that laid there. 

And the scars. There were a few etched into his skin, but you were most concerned with three. Your fingers went to touch one of the circular scars, feeling the puckered healed skin on his shoulder. You felt a pang of regret. If you had done better that night, would he have scarred? You didn’t have time to think before you felt his hand on yours, softly pressing your fingers into the healed wound.

“Like it?” He chuckled, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Why?” You asked, trying not to think about him covered in blood again.

“It makes me think of you.” He said, pulling you into another heated kiss. You felt your body react to him, pressing yourself closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt dizzy with want, your entire being buzzing with anticipation as he pressed you back into the mattress, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your torso, until he was where you wanted him the most. You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling him hook his thumbs into your bottoms, waiting for him.

“What do you want Doll?” He asked from in between your legs. 

“You.” You whimpered softly.

“I’m right here,” He reminded you, “What do you want from me?” You whined as you bucked your hips at him. He grabbed them and pressed you into the mattress, making you groan louder.

“I don’t know!” You confessed.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even done anything, you can’t be fucked stupid just yet.” he tsked. 

“I just want you to touch me...” You begged.

“I am touching you.” 

“Ryo!” You whined, wriggling under him.

“Ryo?” He snorted, “That’s cute.” In all the times you had imagined yourself fucking Ryomen Sukuna, you had never imagined he’d be this fucking infuriating. You gave a stranged whine to let him know just how upset you were. “Sorry Doll, I don’t speak whine. You’re gonna have to use your big girl words.”

“Ryomen, please!” You begged, “I- I want..fuck, I want your mouth.” You finally decided, “I want to know what your mouth feels like.” Ryomen’s grin was dark as he finally pulled down your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion.

“Good girl.” he praised, and before you could properly react, he was running his tongue from your entrance to your clit, wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves and giving it a sharp suck. Excitement exploded in your chest as your hands rushed to his hair, trying to find anything to ground yourself. He growled as you pulled him closer to you. 

Every pass of his tongue sent another wave of euphoria coursing through your core, leaving you soft under him. You brain officially checked out for the night, rolling your hips against his face to chase your high. You moaned his name shamelessly, losing your ability to regulate your volume in the pleasure he was giving you. This volume regulation problem worsened as he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, curling up and successfully gracing the sweet spot inside you. Some part of your brain was sure the next room over knew Ryomen’s name now.

And it was driving him crazy. Ryomen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes screwed shut, the way the sweat cascaded down your body, the way his name sounded so fucking pretty falling off your lips. He spent a lot of time fucking his hand to the thought of fucking you with his mouth, among other things, and his imagination couldn’t come close to creating the magic of the real thing. He had to use his free hand to palm himself through his slacks, desperate for any sort of relief. The only thing he wanted more than to fuck you in that moment was to taste you as you came on his face. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.

“R-ryo, I- close..” You whined, your mind struggling to conjugate a proper sentence. That’s what he liked to hear. Your head was full of dopamine and ecstasy, your entire body buzzed with anticipation and need. You felt like you were barreling to the edge of the earth with no hope of stopping. You heard him moan as you pulled his hair again, pulling him closer as you rode his face straight to your climax, feeling the ecstasy explode in your veins. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, except the sea was in the middle of a tropical storm and every cutting wave that hit you left you weaker than the last. Your vision went white hot, and you were struggling to keep your breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, Ryo! Ryomen! So good Ryo..” You chanted his name like a witch trying to evoke a long dead deity. And he couldn’t get enough of it, eating you out throughout your high as he licked up everything you had to give him and more. He didn’t let up until your legs were trembling around his head. He kissed bruises in your shaking thighs as he pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking at you with dark eyes. Something primal held behind pupils blown wide with lust. He wiped his mouth with a wicked grin. 

“You taste so good Doll,” He praised, slipping his fingers out of your cunt and into your mouth. You started sucking without thinking, grabbing his hand to keep him there as you licked his fingers clean. “Glad you agree.” He chuckled darkly, feeling his dick twitch under his clothes. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing his mind could focus on was imagining how pretty you’d look trying to take his dick. 

“How ya feeling Dollface?” He asked, leaning back as he undid the button on his pants. 

“So good..” You muttered, your mind slowly finding it’s way back to your body in the sea of endorphins it was swimming in. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, pulling you under him as he lined himself up with your weeping cunt, “Wanna feel even better?” He asked. Well he was confident, wasn’t he? You nodded, looking up to see what he was working with. You probably should have been more intimidated than you were, but at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. 

“Yea, I want do.” You confirmed, and he smiled smugly.

“Good girl.” He praised as he slowly sunk into you. You felt like you were being ripped apart in the most beautiful way. Your cunt weeping as it made accommodations for him. Your hands flew to his back, digging into him with enough time to feel him shudder on top of you from just how good you felt. You’d count that as a win. 

“Fuck, it’s like you were made for me pretty girl,” He moaned, dragging himself out just to push back in, gracing your g-spot as he did. You moaned under him as he did, feeling yourself melt into a puddle of need and pleasure. “So fucking good.” He purred. 

He tried to take it easy, to keep in mind that you had just came hard and were probably sensitive. He couldn’t help himself though. The way you pulled him in deeper and deeper with every thrust threw any semblance of sense out of his mind. All he could think about was how good you felt under him, and how fucking pretty every sound that came out of you was. He wanted to hear them all.

You were happy to make them all for him too, moaning pathetically under him with every push of his cock, every brush against your g-spot. You could feel your blood catch fire in your veins as he fucked you, felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you. You felt electrified, your nervous system somehow fried and on high alert all at the same time. All you could think of was Ryomen, Ryomen, Ryomen as you felt a string of tensions knotting itself over and over in your stomach.

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, folding you into a mating press as he chased both of your highs. You instantly knew you weren’t going to last long in this new position, and all but screamed his name as you pulled at his hair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ryomen!” You yelled as the string inside of you finally snapped, all of the euphoria it was holding back hitting you like a god damn train. You felt your body shake, tendrils of pleasure lashing out from your core to your fingers and toes. It was like a whole body reset, your brain turning into a puddle of electrified endorphins.

He thought he was going to last longer than he ultimately did. But the way your cunt clenched around him coupled with the way your face screwed shut and how needy you sounded as you said his name- he was coming undone inside within a few more strokes, fucking the two of you through both of your climaxes before stilling, just barely managing not to collapse on top of you. 

There was a quiet that settled over the two of you in your after glow as you both caught your breath. You whined as he pulled out, going from feeling so full to so empty and hating it. He just chuckled softly, falling next to you and pulling you into his side.

“So,” You started softly, “Am I still the property of The Syndicate orr?” You asked. He chuckled softly, remembering what he said to you on the night you met. 

“No, not the Syndicate. You’re mine.” He confirmed for you.

“Isn’t that like…kinda the same thing?” You asked. He rolled his eyes. Of course you couldn't let him have his cute moment. 

“Good night Y/n, we’ll talk in the morning.” He mumbled, deciding the best move would be to try and get some sleep. The two of you were going to have a lot to talk about in the morning. 

[everything-transmasculine]

sorry this is so long it might be cut off sometimes i feel like the people who have been adamantly referring to trans men and transmascs who talk about masculinity and the different aspects of it as "tMRAs" and "men's rights activists" have

1. never experienced dealing with an actual MRA and are using a snappy acronym that coincidentally terfs/radfems use to refer to trans people as well, which comes off as "i feel targeted, so i'm going to push that onto others" and

2. don't view trans men and transmascs as having the ability to have a complex and intimate understanding of masculinity, from toxic to healthy, and that trans men/mascs have never experienced or heard "how men are when they don't think any women are around." because 'locker room talk' 100% happens to and in front of people they think are girls/women, they just don't see those perceived as "female"/who have "lesser/weaker anatomy" as able to like. understand what they're saying or relish in making them uncomfortable.

this is shit i've literally heard guys admit to and say to me regardless of how i passed, if they did or didn't know i was trans, it literally doesn't matter to them. bigoted people (especially weaponized victim status cis women and creepy cis men) don't care about transfeminist theory or how sexism is transphobic because genitalia has nothing to do with gender or discrimination, they're transphobic and misogynistic. and they express that by being transphobic and misogynistic. they do not care about the tme/tma dichotomy or how thinking female (vagina) = weak is transphobic to trans women. their transmisogyny is synonymous with homophobia and their transphobia is synonymous to misogyny.

trans men and trans women aren't opposites or enemies whatsoever and the pitting of them against each other has effortlessly undone so much solidarity and understanding of what intersectionality actually is. that being trans is now a morally-based social contract in which you agree to be disrespected on almost every front, including by other trans people, and those other trans people are The Enemy. i'm so tired and this is coming from an academic who deals 24/7 with literally ONLY cis people who think i am cis as well, but being an effeminate short man gets me pigeonholed as a bunch of shitty stereotypes and expectations even from my own FAMILY who can't compute how i look now as opposed to how i used to. sorry this turned into a ramble but trans men aren't both white cis men and white cis women simultaneously benefitting from the privileges of both with the most bigotry they see being occasional "harmless bullying" of misgendering or deadnaming and how it's nothing compared to how real suffering.

if i talked about how i was treated and perceived and the horrors i went through because of specifically being a trans man people would say i was lying. why is it always non trans men who are so sure of what happens to trans men to the point where if trans men try to talk about anything besides what's been "allowed" they're branded as i said in the beginning, tMRAs/theyfabs/the blue hair and pronouns annoying kazoo voice stereotype and a million other "shut up" terms. this is all over wanting to be seen and viewed as a whole person regardless of ASAB/appearance/nonharmful beliefs we all have the same goal why are we letting interpersonal annoyances about personalities clashing dictate how much someone can suffer

anon, i fully agree with you - especially “why is it always non trans men who are so sure of what happens to trans men.” there is a serious problem inside and outside of the queer community of non-transmasculine people trying to dictate transmasculine lives as they see fit (ie, classic DARVO - “that didnt really happen to you, and if it did happen to you it wasnt that bad, and if it was that bad then you deserved it.”)

im going to put my full response beneath a readmore, as this got pretty long!

i think you are correct in your assessment of the current situation of seeing a transmasculine person talking about their experiences, and immediately referring to them as a MRA/tMRA, or not valuing their experiences because they dont see transmascs as being able to have complex relationships with gender, and by extension, masculinity. whenever i see someone calling a transmasc a “tMRA” as if its a bad thing, i always wonder to myself - what is so bad about being an activist for the rights of transmasculine people? in what world do transmasculine people not deserve to speak up for their rights - and in fact, the rights in question usually end up being along the lines of “id like to be treated with basic human decency, please.” just because one group is campaigning for basic human rights doesnt mean theyre taking away from the other groups struggle? of course this notion is exempt when the group in question is campaigning for the other group to be silenced and erased from marginalized spaces, taking away their status as a marginalized people in the first place to label them as “oppressive” based on a binary, sex-based dichotomy that has no basis in actual practicality when all groups involved are denied access to human rights on basis of “chosen” gender, regardless of ASAB… but im getting off topic lol.

tldr; what is so bad about trans people - because lets not forget, transmascs are TRANS before they are anything else (save for other marginalized identities that follow the current societal norm) - vocalizing their struggles to a (supposedly) supportive community?

what is so bad about trans people? because it seems like every person who labels a transmasc as a tMRA on basis of “you wont shut up about the problems you face” needs to do some unlearning of ingrained ignorance and discrimination - and if im not being clear enough… if youre calling any transmasc a tMRA for talking about their unique struggles, you not only sound like a bigot… YOU ARE A BIGOT.

i also think the view you present of bigots, and how they interact with bigotry, is very interesting - because youre right! to those who are bigoted, they arent thinking “this aggression against this person is specifically due to the unique intersection of bigotries that turn into transmisogyny/antitransmasculinity/transphobia/etc” … theyre thinking “this stupid (slur) is a freak and deserves to die.” and whether that violence is in the form of other-gendering, physical violence, sexual violence, or some other form of bigotry, the bigots dont care about who is “affected” and who is “exempt” - ultimately, they just care that youre trans, and that being trans makes you a target. to us, the victims and survivors of the bigotry - we give it unique identifiers, ways for us to call out certain forms that the bigotry takes so that we can better recognize and stand against it (transmisogyny, transphobia, antitransmasculinity, etc.) to bigots, were just receptacles for violence, and thus whatever violence enacted on us is their “god given right.”

additionally, its important to note that medically transitioning and nonmedically, nontransitioning, cis-perceived nonbinary, transmasculine, transfeminine people will not see the same amount of bigotry as visibly (or knowingly) transitioning people will. however, in the case of someone mistaking a trans person for the “wrong” gender, and instead viewing them as the perceived ASAB (or, to put it shortly, people who are quantified as “basically cis”) - they are often, regardless of transmasculinity or transfemininity, treated similarly when it comes to the immediate knee jerk reaction. the main difference is, as i have stated in other posts, hypervisibility vs hyperinvisibility. whereas the transfems experience will take precedence due to their hypervisibility in society, conversely the transmascs experience will be largely ignored or written off on basis of them not being taken seriously (and this is due to a multitude of factors, including derision based in ASAB, “manning up,” etc.)

theres also a harmful rhetoric being pushed that when transmasculine people DO speak about their experiences, their oppression, etc… harmful terms (such as youve outlined) are immediately used to condemn and slander the transmasculine individual who is speaking in the first place. this also often reinforces ASAB-based discrimination, as these terms often boil down to “youre being whiny/hysterical/stupid/a bitch” - all terms that have a basis in misogyny and sex-based oppression. those terms dont stop being misogynistic just because theyre not being applied to a woman - if the root place from which the language is derived is “your ASAB makes you inherently inferior, and youre acting like your ASAB” its inherently bioessentialist and sex-based discrimination. it becomes misogynistic if your ASAB is female, as there is the added stereotype that anyone who is AFAB will inherently be a “whiny, hysterical, stupid bitch.” you can see this reflected in words like “theyfab” - which literally posits the word “they” (referring to a nonbinary identity) with “AFAB” (referring to the ASAB of female) - as a way at discrediting the transmasculine individual its applied to by implying they are both embodying the stereotype of the annoying nonbinary person, while still using and abusing the perceived “privilege” that comes with being assigned female at birth… and the privilege in question is being told to sit down, shut up, and look pretty so the so called “superior” sex can do whatever they desire.

trans people should not be defined by their ASAB - actually, ill go a step further. NOBODY should be “defined” by their ASAB. your assigned sex at birth is a designation of biological diversity, one that doesnt always fit in neat little boxes. its a biological marker of what reproductive niche you may or may not fall into, not a determiner of superiority (and consequently, inferiority.) anyone trying to sell you on the idea of any one sex or gender being better than another is a bioessentialist bigot, and hasnt even begun the process of unlearning sexism, misogyny, and gender discrimination.

and this whole, long response STILL doesnt even touch on harmful beliefs like “all transmascs are detransitioners and TERFs in disguise” because transmascs are AFAB or how the term TME (despite people claiming it applies to everyone who isnt transfem) is exclusively used to ridicule and devalue transmascs or how the rates of violence for transmasculine people are so high (even surpassing the average rates for trans people) and yet still transmascs are seen as “attention seeking theyfabs.” and thats just the tip of the iceberg! i could go on for much longer about all the horrific, vitriolic, deeply transphobic sentiments that have pervaded the queer (and trans!) community, that have become acceptable statements to make because - once again - that didnt happen, and if it did happen it wasnt that bad, and if it was that bad… you deserved it (you stupid, hysterical, whiny, bitch!)

[marunene]

This is kind of a random headcanon but—later seasons Cas becomes a total bookworm. He's been through so much that sometimes he just wants to sit and read some books.

Sam is the one that introduced him to reading btw.

So here's where the funny part comes in- Dean always suggests he reads shitty books because of how confused Cas gets.

"I don't understand this plot line..."

"How can the air taste like memories?"

"Human men are physically unable to do that task for that allotted period of time."

"This author's use of angel physiology is blatantly false."

"Why do these book people keep smirking at each other?"

OMG YEEESSSS!!! He would probably love the old books, I can TOTALLY imagine him reading a book from the 1500s in a completely crazy language and understanding everything

While Sam is showing him old books (which are readable) and talking to him about them, Dean is making him read 50 Shades of Grey

And also– I'm very unsure whether he would like books that talk about more real stories (not actually real, just stories that are more likely to happen) or fantasy.

I imagine he also likes true crimes book (I have the same hc for Sam) — Because, remember the ep Hunteri heroici? Where he wanted to become a hunter? After the incident of him smelling the body and talking about a man's urinary problem and the REAL story having nothing to do with it. He would start listening to/reading true crime podcasts/books to get an idea of what they might end up dealing with in the future. He would probably make references to these crimes (some of them absurd) while Sam and Dean look at him confused.

[maxdibert]

Hello Max, how would you describe Walburga black?

Like a matriarch — with everything that entails. The figure of the dominant, strict matriarch who wants everything done her way and doesn't tolerate being contradicted or challenged. With a temper just as nasty as her eldest son's, which is precisely why they couldn’t stand each other. I actually think Walburga and Sirius had very similar personalities — both dominant, both fiercely independent, both the type who refuse to be told what to do. The problem was that Walburga was the mother and he was the son, so in theory he was supposed to obey her. But because he had the same shitty temper as she did, he just wasn’t going to do that. And she was determined to break his will until the very end — and what she achieved was destroying their relationship completely.

I picture her as a very strict, demanding woman, probably not the nurturing type. Not the kind of mother who fits into that sanctified, self-sacrificing, tender archetype — that whole misogynistic fantasy Rowling loves so much. Rather, she was probably a woman fully aware of her status, of the power that status gave her, and firmly set on maintaining the family lineage, which to her was likely the most important thing. We have to remember that the Blacks were basically wizarding aristocracy, and aristocracy has always been obsessed with preserving surnames and bloodlines. On top of that, Walburga probably felt even more pressure because her sons were the last male heirs — the Black name would be lost through Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda, since they were women. She likely focused hard on crafting the perfect heirs, and, used to getting her way, she tried to do the same with her eldest son when he started turning out "wrong." But like I said — I truly believe Sirius and she had the same temperament, the kind that refuses to be broken, so she failed.

I think she probably poured all her energy into Regulus after that, whose personality was likely more like his father's — calmer, more rational. And I think Regulus’s death really messed her up. In the end, she lost both of her sons, even if one of them was still alive.

I also don’t think she hated Sirius. I believe what bothered her most wasn’t that he was a "traitor" or that he hung around with blood traitors, Muggle-borns, and half-bloods — but that when she looked at him and argued with him, she saw herself. She saw everything she didn’t like about herself, and that’s why it all felt so personal.

Honestly, I’m kind of obsessed with dysfunctional mothers, because we’re so used to shitty, absent fathers. Men seem to be allowed not to know how to deal with their kids or not have deep emotional bonds with them, and nobody blinks. But when a mother is like that, she’s immediately labeled a horrible person, a witch, a monster — because apparently mothers are supposed to be the Virgin Mary incarnate. Like, the moment a woman gives birth, she stops being a person and becomes a Mother. And I find mothers who are a bit of a mess way more interesting than the saintly ones. Walburga is one of those mothers.

People love the headcanon that she didn’t love her sons, but I disagree. A lot of parents don’t love their children well — but that doesn’t mean they don’t love them.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - February 18

outed anon, genderqueer anon (new), hijab anon (new), panromantic anon, intrusive thoughts anon

Outed Anon

Hello Cas this is outed anon (again lol i keep comming back)

This isn't really a vent post im just frustrated about smth and need to let it out lol

So in my country you cant have a private chat with a teacher. This law is ok but it also doesnt allow contact through librus (an official side with grades and shit i have no idea if yall have it in america im sorry) if its not on the weekdays.

Now im in the drama club and this is my first year attending so im one for younger people there ("first time in drama club, kinda nervous"). Unfortunatelly everyone is pretty lazy and im one of the people that do things when nobody wants to do so. Its annoying af but im living.

Now there is an art festival and the teacher who is in the club wanted to participate. She asked who could sign us in and do the 'paper work' (answer emails, calls, write them and keep an eye on deadlines). The crowd was silent so i said i could do it. Turned out people offered NO HELP. When i asked things i needed from them to sign us in (their full name and age) i was left on READ and they only answered when the teaher asked them to. Im on my last fay of the winter break and i just got an email from the festival that we unfortunatelly didn't got in because we didn't choose a date they will watch us play. I ASKED THE GRUP CHAT TO CHOOSE DATES. no answer. They had the CONTACT WITH THE TEACHER (her phone number i think) and they had no problems in asking her to choose. In act of desperation i wrote her an email on librus asking to please choose the date because noone is helping and im not going to choose a date because they will be like "oh but i cant why did you chose this" "but i have a doctor i cant goo". Now I have to go there, say we didn't got in, listen to them whine how they wpuld do it better (no one wanted to do it) and that now we need to way a year to participate again. I cant i have one of the lead roles and im thinking about droping this shit because im reciving no help, its my first year in thi fucking school, im not that liked in class, i have to deal with people older th3n me WHINE into my ear how they dont think im doing the right thing. I Just CANT.

Thankfully my friend who is also in the drama club said she will take over my role if anything goes the wrong way (thank gods for her kind soul) so i dont have to worry about the hole in the cast left after i leave.

I also got a shitty role so i aint doing that

Yeah thats all as i said its not really a vent im just angry lol

Hi <3

Honestly it sounds like this is the fault of the other students in the club- not you or the teacher. And now they get the consequence- nobody gets to go to the festival. I'm so sorry nobody was supportive, but if people give you shit, I'd just nicely be like "yeah, I wish more people replied to my messages" and leave it at that. You have a right to be angry, imo.

_________________

Genderqueer anon

Hi cassss!!!

I’ve been wondering about this for a while now. Am I transphobic?

For context, I'm genderqueer. That's because I always had weird feelings about gender but not enough to be a trans man. I like people seeing me as masc and being confused about my gender, and genderqueer seemed appropriate.

I like girls. And everyone under the Enby umbrella. But I don't like dicks. Not at all.

I think trans women are women and trans men are men. I use people’s preferred pronouns (I mean we don't have gendered pronouns in my language, but I do it online). I don't like guys (not anyone who isn't fictional anyway) and I like trans girls CUZ THEY ARE FUCKING GIRLS. I believe that trans women (and enbies alike) deserve to be in sapphic and lesbian spaces and communities

But I wouldn't want to have sex with an amab trans individual who didn't have bottom surgery. Because I don't like dicks. Not specifically penetrative sex, just anything to do with a penis.

And there is a chance that I can be aegosexual anyway. In that case, it might not even matter. I’ll figure that out much later.

The last thing I want to be is a transphobe. My internal homophobia went away on its own, but I had to dismantle both my internal and external transphobia manually, and I really fucking hate transphobes.

I know most trans people don't care about what an individual thinks, and there aren't trans folks flooding the gates to be in a relationship with me, but I feel guilty about my exclusionism

Nope, this is not transphobic! If you said you didn't want to be with a trans woman because you think they're not a woman, then that would be transphobic. But not liking dicks is just a preference, and that's completely fine. You're allowed to like what you like and dislike what you dislike!

_________________________

Hijab Anon

Hi!

I’m not sure if you would be able to give me advice but I’m gonna ask anyway bcs maybe you could lol

So I’m in Highschool and I live with my parents.

My parents are super religious Muslims and I’m also Muslim I was raised Muslim and I also wear the hijab and my problem is that I’m also bisexual and I’ve come to terms with that and I’m happy with my label but my parents are very homophobic at some point a few years ago they found out I’m bi and completely pulled me out of school and made me cut off all contact with my old friends and I was so scared and lost for a long time. We’re in a better place now with them thinking I’ve “healed” and I’m straight now.

And I just don’t know what to do I love my parents so much and I don’t want to cut off contact when I get to university bcs that means I won’t only lose them I’ll lose my siblings too (who also share my parents beliefs) and my parents are meant to pay for my university when I get there and I’m scared to risk that too.

I also don’t have any friends to talk to about this due to being put into a Islamic school after everything that went down before and I can’t risk coming out to my friends and seeing if they would support me.

I really don’t know what to do and sometimes that feels really scary

-🧕

Hi! First of all, if the anon name is offensive, lmk. I was just trying to pick something so you knew it was you!

I can definitely understand why this feels scary. It must feel really alienating and lonely.

I think my best advice is to focus on what's best for YOU. Not your parents or your siblings or anyone else. What will make you happiest and safest?

It might be that for now, you stay quiet and wait until you go to school. Let you parents pay and wait it out. I know you're nervous that you'll be the only one there who's queer, but I promise that you won't be. The good and bad thing is, you're not the only one who's forced to stay quiet about this. You can start to quietly build a support system and slowly find your own way when you feel ready.

Or maybe you feel like you need to do something now. In that case, you need to look up options for people your age who are on their own.

Or maybe for you, it's worth it to stay quiet for a long time, because you want the peace and safety your family can bring you. That's okay, too!

Whatever you prefer is understandable and it's a very personal decision. My advice is to try to build a support system (carefully) no matter what, and if you DO decide to make a move, have a plan first.

Sending love <3

__________________________

Pan romantic anon

Pan romantic anon here, had lunch together on valentine's day (it was cookies and cake and coffee) she bought my cake, I made her heart shaped cookies. We talked and hung out as always. The day after that we meet up with the rest of the group, talked and had dinner together in one of my other friend's house. We talked about classic things, talked about love life, acedemics etc. how she was happy being single, how she would prefer staying that way in our exam year. I mean, me too, because it's distracting to have a boyfriend. But like. It hurts a little you know? Just a little. I proitize my career too, I would rather to study rather than dates too. But I still wish we could do study dates, we could cuddle at night, we could kiss and all, don't have to give too much time, just being together. Hell, I don't even ask for dating at this point, I just wish I could somehow get her like me. That's it. I just want that, really. But oh, how I hate it when all the girls describe their perfect guy and I know a girl or anything else doesn't even cross her mind, not because she is straight, but because we live in this hell where it's expected. And I, I feel like dying. Oh how I wish she liked me. Oh how I wish when the day ended and she kissed my cheek, when she said 'i enjoyed today!' it meant romantic.

Not even that, you know? Even if it's plotonic I would want to be close to her. She color codes the things she loves. In her calendar, some of her friends are pink, the best friends of her, the ones she loves, actually loves, the ones she knows for years, the ones she is planning to live with, plotonically but still her first choice.

And I am purple, and I know I am not close to her that much. But I feel so bad. I wish she could chose me like I would. Not even romantic, just want to be in top 5. It sucks to see your number one puts you in number 10 or more maybe.

And like, I know it's not fair. I know she doesn't have to. But she lays on me (literally, on our desk, lays back on me, on my chest while I am holding her, how am I supposed to breath in this situation, I have anxiety god.) she kiss my cheek and I know it's plotonic especially considering where we live but like, I think I am gonna die.

Hi <3

I'm so sorry that you're feeling this way. I still think there's a chance she feels something deeper for you than she's letting on, but I also know that I don't know your culture or friendship, so I don't want to over-hype you up, either. I know it's heartbreaking to feel something for someone who probably doesn't feel the same way back, and not much I say is going to help with that, but I want to remind you that it's not you. There's a lot of factors here, and it sounds like she really does care about you as a friend.

I'm sending you love <3

__________________

Intrusive thoughts anon

hi, its intrusive thoughts anon.

firstly, how have you been? how was your valentine's, did you do anything fun? (i didnt even know it was valentine's day until like hlfway thru the day lmao)

its nothing for me this time, just. my friends goung through shit rn, and literally nobody in her family sees it. even her sister (whos my bsf) insists thst shes perfectly fine. but i know that she isnt because shes let it slip a few times, and i try to help her as much as i can but the issue is that i see so much of my young self in her that i want to stop her from continuing down the oath which led me here but at the same time i have no way to confort her?

she says that she knows she has to stidy but its like her brain is broken and she cant do anythinf, despite knowng that she should. my bsf and her entire family insistently shit on her for being on her phone and reading all day, but i think they forget that she uses it merely as a way to cope.

i dont know how to help, cant tell any authorisesd figure or her parnts or anything cz we simply do not live in that kind of society. i can offer nyself to help but idk how to do that eithef?

so this is me asking for your expertise, please help me help my friend. im so worried about her that i think about it day in and out.

tysm, cas.

Hi!

My Valentine's Day was good! I went to an Escape Room :D

Honestly, I think you should tell her exactly what you told me. That you see yourself in her, and you're here for her. Know that she might not take you up on your help, but don't stop reminding her you're here. Do things you would have wanted someone to do, you know? And just...be there. I know it doesn't feel like a lot but it can mean SO much to someone.

Sending you love! <3

[tigwalen]

I wish it was easier to find friends that had your best interest at heart. anyway, as usual I can't stop talking and it's going to be a while before I get over this and my therapist is probably tired of hearing me about it so.

I've had this friend since I was in second grade, she was the first friend I had when I moved here, she was the only person I knew for a long time and outside of my family she was the biggest person from my cultural community, my dialect, my culture. I've always known she's been a bit passive, I've always known her family has issues with not wanting to be native, I just thought she would recognize that and maybe try to stomp it out within herself. it's really hard to take apart the pieces of this issue and figure out what is her being a bad friend, and what is her carrying out colonizer tactics within herself and with me.

it's really hard to watch your friend grow up, speaking the language with her, having her refer to you as her second husband in terms of what a priority you are, have all these cultural knowledge and memories, and... just watch her throw it away for some white man that gives her a false sense of security because he does the bare minimum and that's more than what she's ever been used to. it's really hard to watch this woman talk about how good her husband is, but then ask me for resources because her husband is an ignorant racist and misogynistic piece of shit that is not looking out for his family - and she doesn't even talk to him about it.

it's really hard to have this friend only talks to you about culture because she can't remember shit anymore and just wants the fun stuff.

it's really hard to have all this history and yet now this person only contacts you when they want to have a fun girls night, or they need help. I understand having children but I don't fall for the excuse of children dominating your life, when I come into the house and you're doing everything and your husband is doing nothing. if he can take time off to go to a Renaissance faire, he can take time off to go to our powwow and you don't need me as child care because you can't. make. him. do. shit.

you're calling your husbands behavior of shooting animals because he doesn't like them on his property "villain behavior" like it's some cutesy little bullshit you have to deal with like him switching your shoes up at the door. you're asking me about how to save money on food when you have a man that likes to kill animals but doesn't even fucking hunt for y'all - what the fuck does this man do besides have a job?

it's really hard to reconcile the idea that this person probably doesn't have my best interest in mind, because I go through the whole process of realizing I can't leave my territory. and then she tries to have me move to Alabama with her, of my own independence while her move would be paid for, because her dumbass white husband does not recognize the problem with that and she is unwilling to stand up to him.

you can't tell me you're not meeting your husband's needs and that's not fair to him, when your husband doesn't even pull full weight around the house, why the fuck would you meet his sexual needs when he can't even change a diaper. it's disgusting and the entire conversation I had to have with you about polyamory really just made me not want to talk to you anymore because I can tell you aren't telling the full story because I've called your husband out on his shit multiple times. you are covering shitty, manipulative, and possibly abusive tactics from your husband, because you don't want to face the fact that you hitched your wagon to the wrong horse.

you've tried to encourage me to get with men that are like your husband, you can't stand that you put yourself in this situation and you don't want to be alone, whether it be alabama, dumbass Trump supporters, or just incompetent white women shit. you've isolated yourself from your own cultural community and I'm one of the only tethers you have and you recognize that you wouldn't be able to get back in there without some serious work and some serious looking at how your family operates. again, y'all can find time to go to the Renaissance fair but you can't find time to go to a language class 10 minutes from your home.

I've tried to set repeated boundaries over the years but you continue to let your mental health decline, refuse to stand up for yourself, and refuse to look at the situation to the point that you've made it to where I can only visit you if I come to your house and immerse myself in the chaos that you let yourself be in. I don't care to be around all that shit and it's not restful for me, it's not restful to drive 45 minutes, watch you haul ass and your husband does shit all, and then I drive 45 minutes home in the dark

You can burn yourself alive for an incompetent WHITE man, but I won't.

[butchpeace]

Heyyy I hope it's okay that I message you. I just can't talk to anybody about this topic...

I felt a little down and wanted to lift up my mood by searching for anime art references and draw a little. Problem is that I didn't found the aesthetic I wanted or more like I found it but it's "femboy" and that was the aesthetic that triggered my gender dysphoria and it still kinda does. I searched for similar aesthetic but for girls like "femgirl" but it's just not the same and that actually made my mood worse...

I really do like the aesthetic but I just can't look at it anymore because it gives me "gender envy"? But it's not the gender. It's just the aesthetic!

I also saw a reddit post about the same problem and the first comment was "You may be trans*! :)" And that's so frustrating! I was there and know how it felt like or still kinda do and that people just assume that stuff because "a CiS gIrL cAn'T bE a FeMbOy" frustrates me even more...

(It was the same as "I don't like being a woman" "You may be trans*! :)" and that's just not true. I hate being a woman but that's normal like gender dysphoria is normal. I'm Cis and still have to deal with gender dysphoria and that's okay. It's not nice but it's normal!)

That was also why my gender dysphoria got worse. But "Femboy" is also an aesthetic (Like Punk can be a clothing style, a music style but also a political orientation) and it's also normal for girls to like this kind of aesthetic even tho there isn't a "female" version.

I don't know what to do with this struggle and of course there are bigger problems in the world but my best coping skill became my worst trigger point. It kinda feels like that this aesthetic was my drug and now I need to recover but I just don't know how...

Maby any tips?

I think everyone sometimes wishes they could be someone else, or that they could be something that’s impossible for them to be. It’s completely normal, especially as a young person! And it’s especially normal now that we have social media and the internet showing us all these different aesthetics and things to be jealous of.

I don’t want to diminish this at all - your feelings are important - but my advice is honestly to spend less time online and less time in spaces that have content that triggers you. Keep making art, but maybe focus on drawing the kind of women you want to see more of!

Anime has always done a pretty shitty job with its female characters. A lot of anime (maybe most of it) is downright sexist. Misogyny in media of any kind is what leads to young women not being able to connect with female characters. Your interest in femboy characters could stem from the fact that they’re feminine but not sexualized. They’re respected as men while being able to express themselves femininely. But what we see in the media isn’t real life. By definition, it’s someone’s fantasy. Just some food for thought 💛

[beardedmrbean]

Ah thank you the blunderbuss! Yeah that gun basically work as his shotgun or grenade launcher with the rights bullets. He modified it in later games

Also Cyrus is still a mage when he get this magical weapons. He still use staffs, books, and wands. Actually I think I would do a joke that new party members and such are often surprised that he a mage as he don’t look the standard mage.

And yes he does develop a hand to hand combat style as he getting older. Actually that running joke like for a mission

The bad guy: Oh little Cyrus lost all his guns and wands, how are you-OW DID YOU JUST BROKE MY NOSE?!

14 year old Cyrus: My dad was from the slums, beside you forgot the part where items are for concentration? *His gloves glowing blues with electricity*

I mean there are still more powerful mages, but Cyrus have no problem showing he a son of warrior if need.

I was thinking like merchant or a poster. But say Cyrus with his staff in on hand giving him light. And his gun in the other.

Also I like found family, but as someone from a blended one…ugh it just how media and fandoms fetishized it

A older character shows human decency to a younger one: THEY HAVE A PARENT AND CHILD RELATIONSHIP

A relationship where a man adopt a character when the character was 10: THEY TOTALLY HAVE A NUCLEAR FATHER AND SON DYNAMIC. PLEASE IGNORE THE FACT THAT THE YOUNGER CHARACTER STILL HAD LOVING PARENTS THAT TRAGICALLY DIED AND THESE TWO ARE OFTEN AT EACH OTHER THROATS

Old fandom shit but Jesus, writers and fans stop projecting the nuclear family structure into found family ones.

Also for Cyrus “aunts” and “uncles” it more of Darius very close friends that help raise Cyrus so in general he see them as family, but know they aren’t blood related

Remember why media show complex family dynamics before writers with unresolved parental issues treat the audience like their therapists?

Shitty parents sucks, but you guys saying “fuck all white people” don’t help with empathy points.

Thanks for liking my father and son Jrpg idea.

Now to double answer with the good times thing, I bought the compete series on dvd today.

Executives can try to force certain images onto groups. But nope this from black writers who think ghetto culture is the only culture black Americans got.

Sorry this took so long was busy acting as storm buddy for a friend in Iowa dealing with the nados coming their way.

All safe all clear, just slowed me down on here some is all.

Ah thank you the blunderbuss! Yeah that gun basically work as his shotgun or grenade launcher with the rights bullets. He modified it in later games

People thought the flared opening would aid in the scattering, it did not according to recent studies into it.

Also Cyrus is still a mage when he get this magical weapons. He still use staffs, books, and wands. Actually I think I would do a joke that new party members and such are often surprised that he a mage as he don’t look the standard mage.

Those are always the ones to watch out for.

I mean there are still more powerful mages, but Cyrus have no problem showing he a son of warrior if need.

Terry Pratchetts "Discworld" series has a group in it known as "The Silver Horde" led by Cohen the Barbarian, the saying 'beware a old man in a line of work where men die young' these guys are old by old man standards, they have a lot of experience in not dying and they put it to good use.

I was thinking like merchant or a poster. But say Cyrus with his staff in on hand giving him light. And his gun in the other.

I'm a fan of the musical instrument case (robert rodriguez needs to do more movies)

Also I like found family, but as someone from a blended one…ugh it just how media and fandoms fetishized it A older character shows human decency to a younger one: THEY HAVE A PARENT AND CHILD RELATIONSHIP

You'd do well sending things to damnfandomproblems, think we've been over that before tho,

Old fandom shit but Jesus, writers and fans stop projecting the nuclear family structure into found family ones. Also for Cyrus “aunts” and “uncles” it more of Darius very close friends that help raise Cyrus so in general he see them as family, but know they aren’t blood related Remember why media show complex family dynamics before writers with unresolved parental issues treat the audience like their therapists?

Roseanne and Married With Children had to be two of the most honest sitcoms ever created, MWC less so, but both managed to do a good job of showcasing what lower middle class America was in a fairly authentic way.

Family Matters was pretty good till it turned into the Urkle Show, stayed good but in a different way.

Tangentially related, but writing that out put this in my head

And it is one of the greatest TV moments ever, so let's have a smile break.

Shitty parents sucks, but you guys saying “fuck all white people” don’t help with empathy points.

we've actually gotten to a point where folks in some corners can't seem to grasp that, sadly

Thanks for liking my father and son Jrpg idea.

It's fun to read and I can tell you're enjoying fleshing it out some and I'm glad I can be a bit of a part of that.

Now to double answer with the good times thing, I bought the compete series on dvd today. Executives can try to force certain images onto groups. But nope this from black writers who think ghetto culture is the only culture black Americans got.

Good choice, and that will wind up biting them in the ass eventually, just got to be patient is all.

[sigurd-the-chucklefuck]

long ass rant/random thoughts

I feel like the biggest problem with people is that we don't really see other people as human and that's why the gap in human connection between genders keeps widening

Like we see each other sort of like roombas

Only a pre set list of characteristics and actions are widely accepted or respected

if It goes around cleaning shit up and bumping into walls yeah makes sense it's a roomba

But then all of a sudden it says good morning and asks how your day was and then you freak the fuck out

Like as a big white guy I wear a shirt with my gyms logo on it whoopee shit nobody's surprised

Wear a metal shirt or tell people I do woodworking same shit

But I roll up with some purple earbuds (lavender/Lilac to be exact) and suddenly the whole table is like wow I'm surprised. you don't seem like you'd like purple

like yeah bro people actually have favorite colors

Or people talk about favorite flowers and if you say anything they're like wtf men actually like flowers

Or like looking at a dude or someone and only seeing them as a provider or potential predator

As a big mf who looks much older than I am I've gotten used to being looked at like a semi dangerous animal and I'm white so I haven't even had to deal with the racist aspect I can't even imagine how shitty some big black dudes must feel sometimes from how people look at them

And shit starts young too

Like for example going to the bathroom with my mom when I was a kid since my dad wasn't very present women would yell at me for being in the women's bathroom WITH MY MOM literally like as early as 8 years old and granted by the time I was 10 I was about 5"3 still it's just sad that a literal child can't even go to the bathroom with his mom because he's growing up without a father and not get yelled at and seen as a predator.

And in relationships an ex girlfriend was having trouble with an ex and lashed out and said a bunch of hurtful stuff and later felt she was justified due to her previous trauma

Yet she couldn't look past the fact that I don't like initiating physical contact which has to do with previous experiences (story for another time)

And there's more examples like that

and im sure I'll think of like ten immediately after posting this 🥲

and this shit concerns me

We don't need any more young men going down the alt right pipeline

But there are a lot going down that road

Conservatives manipulate you to hate but act like your the greatest thing since sliced bread

A Lotta liberals act like your a fucking rabid dog

(I say this as a VERY left leaning individual myself)

Treating gender as a binary/ essential ism or whatever the fuck is always bad. Shit harms anybody who might be questioning or trans or whatever and even for cis hetero dudes lowers self esteem.

And even for dudes that try to do better and not raise their sons in that stupid stoic bullshit it gets fucked up by other people around them

And shockingly enough a lot of times it's women who do

You get made fun of if you cry in front of them yet if you don't your a heartless bastard who doesn't care about anybody

it's crazy how many dudes I've met who grew up with dad's or mom's who told them it was OK to cry then had some girlfriend or other friend fuck it up and shame them sometime down the line

And I'm not trying to be an incel or whatever but the world is so fucked up and everyone has so much hate in them I'm just tired

I don't have anything against women I love all my women friends and gay friends and believe in abortion rights equal suffrage and stuff

But a lot of us need to realize that the average guy that grows up emotionally repressed and ends up working 40 to 60 hours a week for decades before his heart finally gives out or he decides to put the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger is no more benefitted by the patriarchy than any housewife or independent woman for that matter

And a lot of men need to realize that a girlfriend or wife should be your partner not something to subjugate

Race gender and religion don't matter that's just a bunch of bullshit divisions to keep the poor at each other's throats and trying to outwork each other out of spite while the rich drain us of our life and blood.

I'm not tryna upset anyone

Im just tired

[bisluthq]

unfortunately I fear getting into situationships with women also sucks 🥲 currently going through a rough time at the moment with my best friend who I also work with and I knew it would turn into a really intense homoerotic friendship at some point but I didn’t think she’d get a bf (she’s bi like me). We went to Prague at the start of this month together and I had the crash out of the century when we got back because there’s just been months and months of stuff that’s making me go insane. I had to listen to her talk about sex with her bf multiple times but she also asked me to look up what the vibe was with gay rights in the czech republic when she looped her arm round mine when we were walking everywhere. she started stroking my hair while we were in line at a gift shop waiting to buy something for her man. She suggested we have breakfast in bed one of the mornings and wanted me to cuddle her and was like putting her arm around me, holding her hand out for me to walk with her etc the whole time. Moral of the story is don’t let anyone in while you’re emotionally fragile!!

oh dude like see the thing is men suck lol like a LOT but NOTHING hurts more than homoerotic weird bullshit. Men like… yea lol they suck but we all kinda know that and we as women know that we can basically sit down in any cafe ever and tell the waitress like “shitty day, husband/boyfriend/dad is being cunty” and these random women will be our new best friend and go to war with us for the afternoon. When we have problems with women it’s SO much more complicated. When we have problems with actual girlfriends like… already more complicated because straight or even straight leaning women do not generally understand how much women can absolutely suck too lol so we don’t get that sympathy from strangers or straight friends tbh (because soooo many of my straight girl friends have said like “oh I wish I could just date women!!!” and I do think they mean it lol because they DO NOT KNOW lol like none of my straight guy friends want to deal with women either but it is what it is ykwim and us bi morons have to deal with ALL OF THEM) but when it’s those weird homoerotic situationship dynamics there is literally NO ONE to talk to ever. Because you can’t even begin to explain like what all went down and it all makes YOU sound like the crazy bitch. No man like not a fuck lol and you definitely deserve better and also I’ve sooooo been there and it’s always hurt so bad and been so confusing!!! And also why I said like if I go through with this breakup I’m staying legit single for a year and I’m avoiding weird dynamics with girls and boys alike lol because obviously super easy to fall into that but no good at all.

[unabashedly-faulty]

It’s making so much sense the need to speak my peace. A trauma response.

I must explain myself or be perceived incorrectly. To be perceived in the military is life and death. They say “perception is reality” in the Navy. Imagine having autism and needing to mask to survive , to not be perceived in a way that gets you targeted while also already being targeted because you reported sexual assault. Fuck them. I hate them all

I am just the way I am because people are shitty and there’s no accountability. And I’ve gotta figure out how to survive me after them.

…

I know baby. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. You are not the problem. You were never the problem.

They assaulted a vulnerable human being. That’s on them. You couldn’t have known babygirl it’s not your fault. Hear me. Please my love. It was never your fault. Never ever. They could’ve just not done what they did. You could’ve been butt ass naked and not want to be touched without your permission and consent and then doing so would still be their fault and not yours. Consent needs to be fucking drilled into niggas brains bro. Like fuck you all. Fucking idiots. Get ran over by a train.

😭

I don’t like having this hate inside me. But it’s there and I’ve got to deal with it.

What is Rage? Hate in action. How do I get rid of it. What’s underneath it? Anger from lack of justice. Underneath that? Hurt from having no one to stand up for us or look out for us. To do right by us. But you can do right by our son. You can maybe look at it that way. What happened was wrong and it was hurtful and scary. We won’t let it happen to our baby. We will be batting for him. Teaching him. Raising him to be better than the men he will encounter. Than the women he will encounter. To the women that set me up to be humiliated, it’s really nasty with both genders that’s why I don’t get the gender wars.

Real talk I cannot stand a down dirty bitch. Like what? Bitch because you’re a female dog for preying on vulnerable women just to have a story to tell. Ughhh. Like I can’t stand women that set other women up. Like wtf is wrong with you. Are you dumb. Must be.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhjhhhhsbdjjfjfdjdjhshsgsgsvsbsvjdjdjdhdhdbdhhdhdhfhfhfhfhfh

These parts are so angry.

They’ve honestly gotta get it out or it’s chaotic for me.

People put things in you and when your brain can’t handle it you’re blamed for it. I hate it. I hate everyone.

You don’t. You’re just feeling a lot right now and that’s understandable. We’re having a trauma anniversary and that’s released the Sailor. The memories from the military. These are always really painful to relive. And you’re reacting in a time that is no more so I don’t hold it against you. I’m still not sure if this will get better tbh. It still hurts my head. I still take a while to realize a part is fronting and why. Gonna catalog this. I need to do it. I’ve got to be able to prepare so I can minimize episodes.

[devolusion]

thoughts related to the quest clean house :

kokomi isn’t the only miko with experience with “diplomacy.”  i’m obsessed with the idea of kokomi training girls with statecraft prowess.  not only do the shrine maidens manage the spiritual aspects of the shrines, some of them also assist and carry out her wishes politically.  shizuru is very shrewd, merciless, and experienced, suggesting she’s been at this for a while and, if she learned from kokomi, that kokomi is much the same.

this is kind of genius to me.  kokomi (  and gorou  ) are canonically building a secret military force, but even those are likely to be suspected.  but having shrine maidens that can infiltrate, get close, ask questions the shogunate would never answer from a soldier...very impressive, your excellency.

i’ve long - suspected that the shogunate’s ‘allowance’ of watatsumi’s existence was not one which was beneficial.  i don’t necessarily think ei (  or the shogun  ) were particularly shitty themselves — both of them strike me as the type to respect a deal struck enough not too encroach on watatsumi.  but the samurai and others in the shogunate army clearly gave them no such leniency, and the shogun likely didn’t notice or care.  some quotes from one of the samurai that i find particularly interesting :

“is this why you fought?  for a dead god? please!  your great serpent has long become shiny rocks in a cave for us to forge into swords!  you bowed down to that great serpent in the past, and now you bow down to the swords forged from its bones.”  

“you didn't want to submit to the shogun, and we allowed you to make that choice, didn't we? [  ...  ]  It was the shogun's mercy that permitted your survival, and you repay her graciousness with rebellion against the shogunate..."

they hate orobashi and view them as a weak, nothing - god.  they consider the people of watatsumi’s rightful place to being bowing to their swords, and that the island’s survial and ability to worship as they wish is one that the shogun — and, by extension, the shogunate — have ‘permitted’.  not a right they have, but a gift that can at any time be taken away, such as now, when watatsumi has not shown sufficient gratefulness.

the same samurai also describes shizeru (  and all of watatsumi  ) as hillbillies who don’t know anything.  the shogunate resents the repealing of the vision hunt decree for the ‘livelihoods’ and the ‘tax revenue’ that’s been lost.  they blame sangonomiya for hiiragi shinsuke being imprisoned for conspiring against the shogun.  it’s clear that the shogunate collectively hate watatsumi and aren’t even particularly loyal to the shogun herself, if they don’t view betraying her as a bad act but exposing that betrayal as the problem.

the fatui may have fanned these sentiments (  and did so among kokomi’s men as well, kokomi was just better able to hide that because sara isn’t a liar  ) but i don’t think that changes the fact that these thoughts were always there.  with kokomi’s men, the fatui pointed out that the shogunate could not be trusted, which, like, fair.  it seems like, to the shogunate, their aim was more specifically that sangonomiya was the cause of the nation’s problems, and not sufficiently grateful for the shogunate’s ‘allowance’ of their continued existence.  this isn’t a new feeling.

i’ll talk eventually about the climate that’s lent to the island, but for now suffice to say that watatsumi’s people and especially kokomi have always felt very closely watched by the shogunate and not entirely safe under their gaze.

the shogunate army destroyed wards and blamed it on the rebels lmao.  you could sort of assume this based on the note about killing the people of higi vision and blaming that on sangonomiya’s people but.  god.  granted, i do definitely think there were legitimately orobashi cultists in the rebellion’s ranks who did much of that damage, but the shogunate was definitely spearheading it.

finally, the note the fatui left behind says that the recruits they’re gathering from the army and the randos are to be used solely as fodder for further human experimentation; when shizura showed this to kokomi, she got her first look at kokomi’s sharp sharp teeth.  suffice to say that kokomi has no intention of being merciful with the fatui from here on out.