#why do they keep doin this to you

[primaviva]

can never let this woman win 😭😭😭😭😭😭 PLEASE GIVE GWEN HER OWN STORYLINES IN HER OWN UNIVERSE LIKE THERES SM MATERIAL AND YOU STAY TRYNA PUT HER IN THE MAIN COMICS AND ISTG IF ITS JUST TO ROMANCE W MILES OR PETER-

[front-facing-pokemon]

[moeblob]

I unfortunately picked up Bravely Default 2 again (I bought it back when it released) and then started over since I last played it in June 2021. And. You know what. I like these silly beans. And then I saw concept art for Dag's expressions and I am not the same. Why did they decide to give him huge fangs in it.

(also I'm trying so hard to avoid spoilers less for plot but more for characters so if you know anything that happens to characters shhhhh. also the expression concept is below the read more so you can see what I mean.)

[spotsupstuff]

i sense how on the contrary, when moon is in Zeph’s local group the members will all go ‘omg youre actually letting us do this’ or be surprised of her leniency with almost anything(or if she gets upset she wont be yelling her ass off and will try to remain calm), because of how Zeph would usually be so strict with em and they didnt expect better

see- first you gotta understand that the chancla doesn't really Hurt the iterators. while they definitely can feel through their puppets, those things are made to be sturdy (throw a normal or singularity bomb into Pebs' chamber,he's fine, i know he just doesn't have health but worldbuilding is worldbuilding so i guess a fully functional iterator is fine with blackhole into the head). it maybe stings for a sec but it's not worse than gettin pinched (also where did you get that she yells at em, she's only exclaimed so far i think. if you check how she handled Innocence, that's how she generally goes about it- no yellin for the sake of puttin 'em in place, she's just venting out her frustrations into the air)

the Point of the chancla is to get the target's unwavering attention so she can talk some sense into them WITHOUT using the senior privilege which is far more invading since it cuts straight through their systems and forces the juniors to stop everything to pay attention. these things are giant supercomputers! they are going to have a different perspective on what counts as "too much"/"too bad" than us humans! it isn't used to limit what they are doing unless the thing they are gon do is explicitly threatening to their safety, the limiting is what the Senior Privilege does!

in that lil comic with Pebs, Suns, Nish, Inn and her, she doesn't actually even hit Nish in the last panel, the chancla is only supposed to suddenly appear from behind next to his face n he gets startled + drama queen points. i've admitted in the tags of it that i gave up on the last page so i don't blame anyone for not gettin that since i haven't put enough effort into communicating it

with what she's doin back in her own group, she Needs to be this strict if she wants her plan of keeping everyone reliably long-term safe to work

and her groupmates would undeniably miss her. they love her! they don't want some lenient stranger without constant spice to her instead of their ramshackle beloved Azzie!!!!

[the-alphonze]

Mreoww mew maww meowww

[shreddeddescent]

grumbling cuz i drafted the next chapter but hate the one after and then realized i think i need to write a new one for after that because i got bored and did a time jump for myself but im obviously missing something HHHHHHHHHH this was cool when it was for me but now im showing YOU idiots........... sighs.

[keeps-ache]

look into my eyes

look !!

☯.☯

[reinabeestudio]

Been feelin this strong urge to write for Royal Law but the Barrier(tm) between me and the things I want to do is ever so present and it feels like I'm lifting a boulder off myself 👑💭

I feel like something inside me is trying to claw its way out of my body and be able to exist freely, yet my own brain keeps sewing the way out everytime

[todayisafridaynight]

The bookmark tag was #holder until i think of a tag for these asks but To Be Real even I forgot what it was...

BUT YEAH thanks so much for reading and I'm glad it's :] Intelligible At Least :] obviously I would be up for reading anything that came to mind after putting you and your followers through All That but understandable... A lot of people I've shown the checklist items or pointed out specific behaviors to have actually said similar [i.e. I'm In This Picture And I Don't Like It], so I totally get what you mean, too!

I think a lot of my picks wound up being generalized trauma responses/aftereffects of abuse or neglect [hence I meandered off into just talking about Jo's father half the time], so I guess it's to be expected a lot of them don't read as being CSA-specific or are broadly relatable; it's not like he's supposed to be read that way, after all. I just wasn't able to zero in on many of the more specific ones because I've Never Seen Jo In This Situation Chief I Don't Know What He Thinks About His Name Or His Body Or Mirrors Or Sex Or Affection I Don't Know How Well Or Poorly He Sleeps [Presumably Poorly Though He Has The Second-Reddest Eyes In The Whole Game]

I don't really think I'll have anything to add though unless Infinite Wealth goes off the rails or I actually continue reading the book... so that will have to do... I originally was just riffing on RGGJo's attachment issues, self-destructiveness, and specific entwinement of sexuality/aggression/romance, and his portrayal in my fic lined up pretty closely, so I thought it'd be interesting to apply the same lens to Y7Jo...

But Yeah x2 thank you for the opportunity to talk about it and I'm Glad It's Intelligible At Least x2

THANK YOU i really should change that tag to something better... <- i will immediately forget to do so like a jackass

BUT YA OF COURSE OF COURSE i was truthful when i said it was a real good read (but once again. i have -5 speech skills so i can't properly word SHIT) and was a thorough examination of jo's trauma and how it manifests in him and how it's exhibited through his actions. ALWAYS a big fan of that :)

[iwaasfairy]

i dont think we should use loli as a body type description tho😭 it is strictly used for 15 and below girls, whether slutty or curvy. i know we’re just here for shits and giggles but im personally a strict pizzagate follower and all the child sexualization in media seems a bit too intentional and i’d like to stop it if i can… please stay safe everyone! <3

i'm not having a discussion about this on my own dark content blog. I am a loli, i'll continue to refer to myself and others as lolis, and if you genuinely think that I mean anything else by it then you should unfollow me. This isn't the blog for you.

Loli is absolutely a word for a body type + personality/fashion sense. Pretending like it doesn't, or hasn't, commonly been used for that is silly and does so much more harm than good. Me calling myself a loli isn't child sexualization.

Urbandic definition below. This is all I'll say about it.

[modmad]

afternoon reblog!

TPoH: Update!

Update here on the TPoH website!

Read TPoH from the start here.

Have you still not got your nice warm Assok socks or a shiny butterfly pin? Head on down to Topatoco town and introduce yourself to my store for books, shirts, stickers and more!

And if you're a long termer you can always support me on patreon; even one dollar a month helps!

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

kinda feel like at this point I need to choose between him n everyone else

[deuvdas]

mmm...

[tradingjackbs]

the way I can't fuckin stop my brain

[rowarn]

soap x reader x simon

soap doesn't know how to make you cum on his cock so he asks his trusted lieutenant to teach him how.

sub!reader, dom!simon, switch?soap, getting fucked by soap in simon's lap, wet&messy, cumming untouched, size difference/kink, threesome, fat dick!soap, MDNI

<3 just some horny nonsense that was spinning in my brain!!!

When Simon found out that sweet Johnny was struggling with something personal and even as embarrassing as making you cum, Simon’s mouth moved faster than his brain with an offer he never thought he would utter.

“I could help you out with that,” he had said, making Soap pause, mouth agape. Simon almost rescinded those words, brushing it off as a crude joke.

But then Soap spoke.

“Would you?” he asked, blue eyes glistening hopefully.

And Simon felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t make you cum, Soap had defended on the drive over to your shared flat. Soap was good with his tongue and his fingers, could make you squirt by just rubbing that sweet little spot inside your gooey cunt.

The problem was whenever Johnny got his cock in you, he just could never get it right. The pace was wrong, the angle was off, he went too deep – anything that he could do wrong, he would do wrong.

“It’s never been like this with other…partners,” Soap shyly whispered. Though it was dark in the truck, Simon knew his friend was blushing in embarrassment, “I-I don’t know what I’m doin’ wrong this time.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out, Johnny,” Simon assured, shoving the door open the second Soap turned the engine off.

You and Soap lived on the top floor and the elevator ride up was stifling. Soap was fidgeting, clearly more than a little nervous about how this night was meant to go.

You and he had been together for a while – long enough to move in together. Simon wondered what finally made Soap reach out for help on this little problem after so long.

But Simon wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d wanted to get his fucking hands on you from the second you bounced into the room, radiant and so sweet in the way you shyly clung to Soap’s arm. You were precious and Simon’s not proud to admit he had gone home and tugged his cock fucking raw over the way you had batted your pretty lashes at him when you looked up at him – so much smaller than him.

He knew he would be a fucking wreck the second he had you within his grasp and fuck, he was right.

His hands were shaking as he held you in his lap, gripping your knees to keep you spread wide for Soap to slot his hips between them.

You were a sensitive little thing, Simon learned. You came so easily around Soaps fingers when he worked to stretch you open for him. If you came so easily then why the fuck couldn’t Johnny get you off from his cock?

You were trembling, wide eyes teary as you watched your boyfriend carefully work his cock into you. The stretch was always so good, always making your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt was so slick and sticky, eagerly swallowing every inch of Soap. So fucking messy. It made Simon's mouth fill with saliva at the sight of how wet you were, he wanted to taste you so badly.

Johnnys cock was fat, thick and heavy, no doubt burning your poor little cunt with how wide he had you stretched around him. You creamed around him, juices dribbling down his balls and wetting his sweatpants. You even dripped all over Simon who held you in his lap.

When Johnny started thrusting, Simon immediately understood why you couldn't seem to cum. Sure, it felt good, and you were moaning - twitching and gasping every time Soap sunk in and brushed against any sweet little spot inside. But Soaps rhythm and pace were inconsistent and he didn't seem to have any idea how to aim his cock to really hit those gooey spots that would have you falling over the edge into bliss.

Simon took a few moments to admire the scene unfolding right in his lap. You, creaming all over a cock that couldn't make you cum. Soap desperately humping your pretty cunt haphazardly and sloppily. He wasn't even bothering to touch your clit. Beneath his mask, Simon grinned.

It was so cute how Johnny went so stupid the second he got his cock wrapped up in a tight, hot pussy.

“Johnny…” Simon finally spoke, “Slow down.”

Immediately, Soap did as he was told. His pace slowed, careful rolls of his hips replacing the jackhammering.

“There's a good boy,” Simon praised, eyes darkening at the sight of Soap’s ears turning red, “Go nice ‘nd deep You gotta hit all those nice spots inside.”

Soap’s pretty, blue eyes were half-lidded as he watched you writhe and twitch in his Lieutenant’s arms. With every deep stroke, both of them could hear the sticky, wet noises of your pussy swallowing every inch.

One of Simon’s hands trailed down your thigh, inching down and down. Soap’s eyes followed every movement until his fingers finally found your hard little clit. Immediately, your cunt clamped down around Soap’s cock and the Scot moaned.

“You gotta touch this cute little clit,” Simon teased, “If you really wanna know how it feels to have a pretty cunt cum around you.”

Soap nonsensically nodded, blunt nails digging into your hips as he held himself back from fucking you like a madman again. He kept Simon’s words in mind - deep and slow. Aim for those little spots. He knows where they are, he knows where it feels good. Just don't think with his cock - that's all he had to do.

With Simon’s callused fingers swirling over your sticky clit and Soap’s fat cock stuffing you full just right, it came as no surprise when you finally came.

Soap wasn't able to stand how good it felt with how tight you were squeezing around him, pulsing through every wave of your orgasm. You were gushing, creaming sticky and wet all over him. Simon could feel you clit twitching under the pads of his fingers.

With a shout, Soap filled you up with his load, “Fuck!”

As the two of you came down, Simon’s big hands carefully stroked up and down your thighs until their trembling ceased.

“You know, Lt,” Soap panted, looking up at him through his lashes, “I think I could use a little more hands on training. How about you really show me how it's done.”

Even though Simon had quietly came in his own pants, his cock was chubbing up again at those words.

“I like the sound of that, Seargent.”

do not modify translate, or repost to other websites. reblogs welcome!

[screampied]

plz write a domestic toji fic

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, house husband toji, reader is pregnant, toji attempting to cook, petnames.

wc. 1.8k

toji quirks an arched brow in frustration. with a concise glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday, it reads three am. sighing, the back of his wrist smears a sheet of sweat off his forehead as he gets a good sniff of the cuisine. like always, he stayed up all night, watching those random cooking mom videos on youtube. trying so hard to mimic their recipes and methods but failing anyway. “tch. fuckin’ shit,” he grumbles under his breath, covered in nothing but flour. the sizzling of the pan was quite loud. the smoke detector went off at least four times. he was wearing another thing you bought him. an apron that had the words of ‘kiss the cook’ imprinted near the front in bedazzled little sparkles. “why does it keep stickin’ to the pan.”

as his annoyance grows, he hears familiar little footsteps approach the linoleum kitchen floor. it’s you, his shoulders lower and his mood softens at the sight of you in comfy silk pajamas and a grouchy expression. “toji? ‘s like three in the morning,” and as you take a whiff of the air, you furrow your own two brows. “are you . . cooking?”

“yeah yeah,” he gruffly grouses, going back to whisking the flour. “go back ‘ta bed, baby. almost done. ‘m jus’ practicing.”

“at three am,” you deadpan, a hand rubbing against your plump growing tummy.

so cute, you were a few weeks pregnant yet everything was moving at such an rapid speed. with the way your body was changing so quick, he could barely keep up. toji hears the sass in your tone as you speak and he knows good and well he should be back in bed with you. you wondered why the left side of the mattress felt empty. you waddle over beside him, hugging him from behind. his bulging muscles rub against you and you let off a playful little whine. “tooooji, you need sleep. come back to bed.”

“princessss,” he plays along with a fake pout, his entire hands covered with piles and piles of doughy flour mix. “but ‘m makin’ breakfast for us two,” and with a brief notion of turning the fire down a bit, he utters last minute. “er— three.” and you smile at him not forgetting to include your unborn child.

toji never cooks, it’s always been just you.

it’s not like he was incapable or anything. he’s always found a liking to watching you cook though.

you always prepared him the best of meals, so good that it had his mouth watering, licking the tips of his tongue in sweet sweet relish.

right before you’d got pregnant, you’d pack him the most divine lunches for work, always with such loving care. you’d never forget to leave him a little adoring note or two, wishing him the best of shifts. so the moment you ended up getting knocked up, he wanted to try.

try to do better,

for you.

sacrificing his sleep wasn’t really an issue—he didn’t mind if it wasn’t for you and his unborn baby. and if toji had to learn how to cook simple meals, he’d do that.. despite the struggle it was.

giggling, you stretch your arms over his torso.

“toji . . making pancakes is easy,” you hum, and his muscles relaxes from your gentle touch.

he’s missed you dearly, even though he was only out of bed for at least a good hour now. hearing him swear vulgar curses underneath his breath at messing up the instructions was quite near adorable. peering at the mess in front of you, you take the cerulean blue mixing bowl from him. “you could’ve woke me up if you needed help, you know.”

“i know,” he grumbles, his voice softening a bit.

you pause—toji’s body language seems a bit different. it shifts. he looks a bit ashamed.

once toji turns off the stove, he deeply sighs. “i just wanted ‘ta learn how to cook for us— you know, like as a family. so when the baby’s here, i’ll uh- be prepared. don’t want ya to be doin’ everything, darlin’. y’er gonna be limited to do lots of stuff soon ‘n i jus’ wanna help out a bit more.”

with a smile, you stroke a thumb against your husband’s chin, right near his little scar. “awww,” and there’s an immediate embarrassed scowl stretching against his thin lips.

toji wanting to try more for you made your heart swarm up with a variety schools of butterflies. it flutters and flaps as he spoke. speaking in a soft tone, a thumb swipes a few remnants of flour near the crevices of his lip. “you’re sweet, toji. but i don’t want you stressing out over cooking. ‘s okay, besidessss we can always do it together.”

“eh,” his eye twitches at your smug growing grin. “that’s… not what i meant, mama.”

“don’t eh me. yeah it is, you want me to teach you how to cook like me,” you simper, planting a kiss against the back of his arm. “you wanna learn how to be a househusband?”

toji groans, turning to face you. verdant eyes leer at you for a long time—but he could never stay too vexed at you, you were so adorable, especially whenever you were this enthusiastic.

“that’s not the term i’d use for myself, but i guess,” and he wipes a few pounds of flour off his apron. “don’t worry ‘bout the mess. i’ll clean that up too.”

“i like this new toji.” you tease, leaning up close to press a wet kiss against his temple.

toji buries his hands in his pockets, staring off to the side and trying to ignore the incoming flush setting against his skin.

oh, you had him weak,

weak everywhere—weak in the knees.

he was feeling himself getting soft as the seconds pass. toji couldn’t lie, he was starting to like this new side of his too. he’d never in a million years admit it though. “baby please,” he grunts, switching the sink on to wash his hands. as the water screams out of the faucet, he lathers everywhere with soap before grumbling. “been watchin’ so many of those damn mom vlogs of cooking. was so annoying, wanted to pull my hair out.”

“you could have just asked me for help, silly,” and your arms securely wrap around his beefy body once more. toji’s frame was a lot more broad and built compared to you. he sucks his teeth, leaning into your touch before staring at the kitchen counter. “okay, good. you have all the ingredients . . eggs, flour, milk, umm sugar..”

and as your words continue and you observe his unkempt handiwork, toji clears his throat. “i gave up once the things kept stickin’ to the skillet.”

you let off a pretty laugh that makes his ears twitch. “welllll that’s probably because you didn’t add enough oil or butter to the pan,” and he watches as you grab a nearby stick of butter. you cut near the end part it with a butter knife before spreading it on the middle of the pan.

toji cutely stays quiet, staring intently and taking in everything you’re doing. he’s attentive, he doesn’t wanna miss anything because he’d soon be doing this for you and his soon-to-be baby.

after a few long seconds, you turn on the stove and it starts to sizzle again. “okay, so you mixed the batter, that’s good. now all you have to do is just pour a good amount into the pan and flip it once it’s a brownish color.”

“ehhhh.”

“toji, you wanted to cook so you’re gonna cook.”

“yes ma’am.” he sighs, his tone playful.

some minutes pass before you both finally finish making a fresh, scrumptious batch of pancakes. with your arms wrapped around him, you showed him all the steps slowly. you were patient with toji, helping him pour the batter and mix it. every time he messes up, you’d kiss the edge of his arm, reminding him that he can just try again. he calms down after a while, and you step away to watch him make a pancake of his own. he flips it over, and he has a sly grin—glancing back toward you, hoping you caught that. you did, giving him an encouraging smile before showering him with praise.

it was almost four am and toji was desperately trying to stay awake—you could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open with how he’s swaying a bit. turning off the stove for the nth time, you set the steaming hot spatula aside before looking in toji’s direction. “we can always eat them when we wake up.”

“we?” he grumbles, combing a hand through his messy strands, giving it a solid scratch.

“yes, we,” and you wrap the heated pancakes with plastic wrap, tucking the undersides of the plate with the material before putting it in the microwave to preserve heat. you then grab onto toji’s hand. “we’re going back to bed.”

with a sigh, he knew he wasn’t gonna win this little spat. toji squeezes your hand back, yet before the two of you could go back into bed, he bends down.

raising your brow, toji gets on his knees before bringing a chaste kiss toward your tummy. “hey little one,” he whispers, rubbing a palm gingerly against the front of your stomach. dark, tired eyes meet yours and he bedaubs a thumb near your the print of your navel poking through your his oversized t-shirt. the cold, frigid texture of toji’s fingertips almost tickles. as he softly runs a finger down the center of your growing belly bump, a bit of flour gets against your clothes. “how are my girls? any cramps or pain i should know about?

girls,

the gender was still too early to determine but toji always pondered about how it might be a girl.

“n- no,” you breathe, moving a few raven strands of hair out of his face. everything felt different, it was as if you were walking with volumes of water stored within you. toji’s always been supportive during your pregnancy, he was trying. he stands up again before kissing the crown of your head. “you still think ‘s a girl?”

“kinda, yeah,” he utters, and a strong arm slings around your shoulders.

toji guides you to bed, not minding your cute slow waddle of a walk. “up we go, c’mon,” and he helps you up the steps, lowly chuckling into your neck at your adorable state. toji was always patient, the moment you finally reach the bed, he pulls down the fat cover so you could climb in. “…. thank you baby.”

“for what?” you slump against the cushioned sheets, slipping off your baby blue socks. toji crawls in beside you, leaning in to switch off the lamp. he still had a bit of flour on his face—and he spots you swiping some of it off with your thumb.

toji groans, acting as if the next incoming sentence was gonna kill him.

“for . . teachin’ me how ‘ta be a good househusband,” he pouts, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too toji.”

“i love ya more,” and he lowers his neck to kiss the middle of your stomach. “oh, ‘n papa loves you also, little one. love my girls so much.”