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#all my dignity is gone
nebulouscoffee · 5 months
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Me, attending the latest in a ridiculous number of funerals this year in the place of a childhood friend who couldn't be there, watching the lifeless body of an old lady who used to make me snacks in the kitchen when I was a kid be carted away forever while my friend's mother cries and tells me she's grateful I could be there because it felt like having the support of her own daughter, hugging her and talking reassuringly and not processing a single one of these emotions: ... I am going to write soooo much fanfiction about this
#''this'' being collective grief. because tbvh it's the main reason I haven't written very much this year (but will slowly start to)#I write to remind myself I am lucky. I keep telling myself this but even now when I feel awful I am so lucky#I am lucky that none of these funerals have involved very close family members or friends of mine#and I am lucky to be living in conditions with the space to write and space to grieve#and space to come together to mourn with dignity while people not that far away from me are not receiving the same privilege rn#I am lucky my dad was with me today and I spent the evening chatting with him on the terrace I am lucky he is alive I am lucky I am lucky#(apologies if this sounds like a robot malfunctioning lmao writing is just how I process things)#(and apparently I just don't seem to feel like I have the right to feel bad about any of this anywhere except my st@r trek blog hehe)#anyway. To stay on theme I shall say something about Trills :D#I imagine loss and grief must register very differently to them. very Non Linearly in the literal sense but also a highly abstract one#even I feel this massive sense of time warp between all these funerals; and this chest-crushing distance between me and my friends#how do Trills even exist#how do they wake up every day remembering all those friends and children and parents who loved them and they loved and are gone now#and still function#how does Ezri feel walking around with memories of parents that aren't hers (but were soooo much better than hers) taking care of her#does she feel comforted by them? does it feel like the people in those memories were always comforting HER specifically?#does it even matter who it belonged to originally if a memory is HERS now?#does Ezri mourn for any parents of past hosts more than she knows she will mourn for her own mother one day?#does having all this lived experience bring her reassuring amounts of perspective for a 20-something or just overwhelm her all the more?#idk; but I hope she learns to take comfort in her past hosts' memories of family eventually...#(...again. I am going to write sooooo much fan fiction about this lmao)#cw death
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pl4yer-81 · 2 months
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I FUUFJA8HFHAUAAAAA
I HAD TO RESORT TO FURRY HEADSHOT ART TUTORIALS BECAUSE I FORGOT HOW TO DRAW GOLDIE'S FUCKING FACE 💔💔💔💔
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The fact that G5 is supposed to be a continuation of G4 is honestly really embarrassing. It doesn't even come near half of a fraction close to being on parr with it's predecessor, and it barely adds anything new or good to the world of G4. All it does is take away from G4 and make everything dull.
Yeah, you're right.
Someone once presented the idea that if G5 were a PREQUEL series instead of a SEQUEL series, then it actually would be good and worth watching.
And they are 100% right.
There were a lot of things that G4 never got to do before it ended. We never learn anything about Alicorns and where they come from, even though they're treated as a big deal throughout the show.
They do answer this question in G5, but I would rather it be done in the actual good show.
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Certain character backstories like Celestia and Luna, Spike, Princess Cadence, remain (mostly) a mystery.
They could've used those last two seasons to answer all of the unanswered questions, but instead they came up with that godawful School of Friendship storyline...
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But G5 as a prequel could've shown all of that, plus many more stuff.
But no, we're not allowed to have nice things, so instead we get ponies using TikTok and dragon babies farting.
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Don't you think that G4 deserves a better continuation then this?
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fastianini · 10 months
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the universal honda experience of 2023
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emilyaxford · 7 months
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i referenced how violet from the incredibles turned invisible when she's shy in my team meeting today and my coworker said (in a complimentary way) that the way i make references is unique because they're really wide-ranging. which a) i don't think the incredibles is that deep a cut, but b) i agree and i think it comes from having older parents (and in my dad's case, him being raised by older parents in turn). bedtime for bonzo (1951) and roll over beethoven (1956) get referenced all the time in my house, usually in relation to my dog, but also my dad keeps quoting the kendall roy "FAMILY THERAPY" line to me recently
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aeide-thea · 8 months
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still picking my way thru s3 of the witcher episode by agonizing episode but it's going SO slowly bc every time i watch one it's just like. right. this show is a B movie now and not in a good way
#like it's not like NONE of it has been fun but it's just like. i enjoy the fandom but the source material is. not actually good#and people SO badly want to credit it with all this depth and sophistication it just absolutely does not have#but s1 was at least like. coherent and fun if unsubtle#s2 and s3 have just been this big spiral into like. an attempt at Fantasy Saga#which would be fine if they were good enough at storytelling to do that coherently#but unfortunately it's just like. disconnected scene after disconnected scene strung together by mediocre action and worse humor#all of which have looked weirdly pastede-on-yay in a way i don't know enough formal film language to articulate#but it's just like. it doesn't feel like the characters are actually moving through the world‚ visually#it's just costumed ppl shoehorned into backgrounds that are either (1) cartoonishly stagey (2) dreary irl countryside somewhere (3) bad CGI#and then geralt gets whumped and it's like. wait NOW you want us to care abt him? after sidelining him all season?#like. idk. structurally and emotionally the writing just sucks#and then the acting and visuals are. largely also bad. lol.#jaskier is probably one of the best bits really but then they give him so much material that's absolutely clownish#and it's like. i'm not opposed to humor but it's remarkable the way the juxtaposition of his tone with the overall tone of the show#manages to make BOTH vibes seem stupid somehow. honestly an achievement#however. big fan of predicted-by-me-but-still-good betrayal scene. like. he didn't even seem surprised which was perf honestly#'obviously you lived down to my expectations‚ that's just how life goes and has gone ever since geralt blew up at me on that mountain'#just like. makes total sense and also grants him some actual depth and dignity#now do that the whole time with all the characters challenge…#tvblogging#(i realize no1 currs but like. i do like 2 record my Thots On Media otherwise they all fall out of my head like a sieve)
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lettersfromthelevant · 11 months
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i swear, every pride month, i end up unfollowing like close to a dozen people--including mutuals--because everyone just gets completely politically unhinged and horrible. either it is aphobia, misogyny, or antisemitism, but soooo many people just go off the rails with it. i dunno what it is about this month, but where i used to look forward to it, i've begun to absolutely dread it.
i used to love pride online because irl pride is so hostile to jews (it isn't that much better here, tbh) and i could at least participate here, but where it used to be mostly sane, it has quickly spiraled into homophobia/biphobia/aphobia, misogyny, and exploitative regressive politics where the entire point of pride is sidelined to appeal to some fucked up groups that this website loves propping up as mascots. no one on here seems capable of being normal about forgotten marginalized groups, like women, aces, and jews. it even has a lead up sometimes; the lead up this year felt like pms, my dash has been so bad the past couple weeks and today the floodgates opened. i haven't seen this much unmasked misogyny and aphobia in a long time and it is only day one. this year is gonna suck, i can just feel it.
all this to say, if i end up unfollowing you and you're a mutual, it isn't personal. i'm just getting close to my wits end
#lucky.txt#as much as i dislike the community i used to be a part of on here i never realized how much i took for granted not having to see the#brain dead and/or fucked up perverted politics of mainstream tumblr all over my dash on a daily basis. like before if i saw something#stupid i could be confident that the ten comments under the op would be saying exactly what i was thinking: ''this is dumb and wrong.''#now the ten comments under the op make me want to throw my laptop through a wall. my 'j' key doesn't even have a j on it anymore.#that is how many times i have *slammed* my finger on that button to get the atrocious things i see on this dash out of my sight as#quickly as humanly possible. i have never rolled my eyes so much in my entire life than i have in the past year on this blog. the utter#lack of critical thinking skills on mainstream tumblr is ridiculous. this website has somehow convinced people of problems#that literally do not exist irl while simultaneously denying real life oppression as being ''chronically online.'' if you make any kind of#response criticizing mainstream opinions on here you will be slapped as a 'puritan' a 'fascist' or whatever other word of the day#that is used for minorities who don't like having their rights and dignities infringed on by entitled leftists. if it weren't for the simpl#fact that i would instantly be barred from like 2/3rds of tumblr i would just go back to the old community and grit my teeth through#the bad parts. it is deeply concerning just how far gone and detached from reality so many of you are. i've said it before but#i'll say it again: i literally will never understand how this website was dubbed the ''gay feminist'' site when it is so horrifically#misogynistic and homophobic even during pride month and women's month
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hellguarded-moved · 2 years
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𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄  [ … ]   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄,
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bold what applies - italicise sometimes.  repost,  don’t reblog.
fights honourably / fights dirty
prefers close - quarters / prefers range
chats during / goes silent
low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance
attacks in bursts / attacks steadily
goes for the kill / aims to disarm / fights defensively / strikes first
is provoked easily / provokes their opponent / teases
gets visibly frustrated / shouts while attacking
uses strategy / focuses on the battle / experiences conflicting thoughts during battle
rushes in recklessly / tries to read their opponent before engaging
fights wildly / fights calmly / fights apathetically / fights with anger / fights with excitement
fights because they have to / fights because they want to
fights without regard to wounds / runs away when wounded / hides wounds / takes a blow to protect another
prefers a blade / prefers a gun / prefers hand to hand combat / prefers a bow / prefers a shield / prefers a personalized weapon / prefers magic, alchemy or spells
their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional
transforms for battle / fights as they appear
relies on strength / doubts their strength / relies on speed
uses everything they have / proceeds with caution / hides their full potential
exhausts quickly / has high stamina
behaves arrogantly / brags after landing a hit / belittles their abilities
uses psychological tactics / uses brute strength
avoids civilians / strikes down civilians
damages surroundings / avoids damaging surroundings
signature fighting style / makes it up as they go
mastered skill - set / learning their skill - set
fancy footwork / sloppy footwork
messy fighter / elegant fighter
accepts defeat / refuses defeat / begs for mercy
compliments their opponent / insults their opponent
uses unnecessary movements / moves efficiently / barely moves
prefers to dodge / prefers to block
defends their blindside / has no blindside / leaves blindsides vulnerable
uses all available advantages / strictly uses one main method
plays around / holds back / fights ruthlessly / shows mercy
waits for an opponent to be ready / strikes when opponent isn’t ready
fears death / fears pain / fears killing
has ptsd / avoids fighting
has lost a fight / has won a fight
has killed / refuses to kill
wants to die standing / would succumb slowly
tagged by:  @corrchoigilt​
#notes.  ( “CERBERUS” );#//  thank for the tag skelly. ♥ i'll do talon for liri's tag gfjkjgfk#//  once one of my clients if u wanna call it that had her dog nearly tackle her down and she went like 'god he's like a tank' and i'M LIKE#//  YEAH IG#//  anyway i love ig in battle and i wish he wasn't so Tired of it so i could indulge in it more#//  he's gone through a lot of life phases during e.g. looking back at his youth he was far more feral and merciless#//  nowadays he's just 'pls stop i could crush you and i don't want to'#//  he takes forever to provoke to fight and he will do his damnest to make it not happen because he KNOWS#//  he can be ur angle. or yuor devil.#//  by which i mean he can be either the unstoppable force or the immovable object#//  n i guess it depends what kinda defeat we talking here. if it's like a friendly duel he has enough dignity to just Take It b u t#//  otherwise#//  he'll fight for as long as he has to. for as long as he has a reason to or a cause. and he also won't back down if he's defending#//  someone.  bitch will literally rather die#//  similiarly if it's a friendly bout he tends to act a bit more arrogant because he knows it's all in good fun#//  also. claps. 'fears death' lmao that's a fun one.#//  it's not even related to killing/fighting it's related to the fact that he once had an encounter with death who forced him#//  to experience physical aging as a threat and hmmmm that rly got to him lmao#//  it's kinda wild when ur immortal n then that happens. so ye#//  also tries to not cause any collateral damage but sometimes that's unavoidable.#//  idk!!!! i could talk about this for hours
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swan2swan · 11 months
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY BLEW UP THE ULTIMATUM???
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paperultra · 8 months
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back of house.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,113 words Warnings: Mild swearing
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If it weren’t for his principles regarding women, you’re fairly certain Sanji would’ve throttled and strung you up to dry by now.
“I … I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he says with a bright smile, though under the swinging lights of the kitchen it seems more out of pain than pleasure. “You managed to burn water.”
Your cheeks flame as you peer into the blackened pot with him, all traces of the water you’d been tasked with boiling completely gone. Vanished. You have no idea how or why.
“I’m sorry, Sanji.”
“No need to apologize. Everybody makes mistakes –”
“Sanji!” you hear Zeff before you see him round the corner. “Why the hell do I smell something burning in my kitchen?”
“None of your business, old man,” Sanji snaps immediately, murmuring a quiet excuse me, dear to you before taking the pot by the handle and heading to the sink. He twists the faucet open and running water roars like thunder in your ears as he thrusts the pot underneath. “I have it under control.”
“Under control, eh?" Zeff says. He suddenly turns his squinted gaze upon you, and you shrivel. “This your doing, missy?”
“I –”
“Leave her alone,” Sanji interrupts. “I didn’t give clear enough instructions. It was my fault.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Eyeing your guilty and defeated figure next to the stove, Zeff shakes his head with a sigh and points you to the door. “[Y/n], go out and wait tables for the rest of your shift.”
Immediately, you make a move to remove your apron. “Oka –”
Sanji makes a noise of dissent and turns the faucet off. “Wait tables? She can still chop the vegetables and help me plate.”
“You’ll do that yourself. Front of house needs the extra person, anyway.”
“I’m her mentor.”
“And I’m the damn boss.”
The rest of the staff roll their eyes and carry on while the two men argue in the middle of the kitchen. You swallow and take your apron off, balling it up in your hands. This isn’t the first time they’ve butted heads over your incompetence, and watching them now cuts at your last shred of dignity.
Clearing your throat, you grimace when Sanji’s head whips around to look at you.
“Zeff’s right,” you tell him. “Dinner rush is coming up soon and I’ll just be in the way, anyway.”
Zeff grunts with satisfaction.
The expression on Sanji’s face reminds you of a kicked puppy. “But …” he begins to protest.
“Oi, you heard what she said. Get back to work! We have customers waiting!”
Sanji blusters about before heading back to his station, casting you one final, forlorn look as he does so. You imagine that your own face looks just the same when you turn to leave.
You take orders and serve customers for the remainder of the day, as promised, and help with cleanup after closing time. And then, long after the sun’s dipped below the horizon, Sanji joins you on the upper deck with a steaming bowl of seafood fried rice.
“For the madam,” he says with a smile, offering you the bowl.
You accept it silently and take a bite as he sits down next to you. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach. You’ve never known a home quite like Sanji’s cooking.
His eyes remain fixed on you as you eat all of the rice, scraping the bowl for every last grain and setting it down beside you once you’re finished.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. I figured it would cheer you up.”
“It did.”
It did, and yet, your lips tremble and your throat closes up. You clench your hands into fists in your lap.
Sanji’s hand immediately presses your shoulder as you sniffle. “Are you alright?” he questions worriedly.
(His attentiveness strikes you like a hot iron sometimes, even now.)
“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” you whisper.
His brow furrows. As if it’s obvious, he answers, “You want to be a cook. A lady’s wish is my command.” Sanji pauses. “And I can’t call myself the greatest cook in the East Blue if I can’t teach others to be great cooks as well.”
“I think you’d be the greatest regardless.”
You glance at him through watery eyes in time to see his face flush a deep red. He looks away hastily, chuckling with feigned modesty. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”
Your shoulders lift in a shrug as you look back down at your hands. You reach up to blot away your tears.
How could you not think the world of Sanji? Or the world of anyone at the Baratie, for that matter? When you were kicked off the merchant ship you’d stowed away on two years ago, you had been sure that you’d be banned from setting foot in such a fine-looking restaurant. Years of scorn and slammed doors had not given you the chance to think otherwise.
But Sanji spotted you on the docks, called you madam like you really were one, cooked you a meal in the kitchen and talked to you. Zeff gave you a job and a bed of your own. The staff gave you a family.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll figure out something that’ll make everything click for you, and you’ll be a proper cook in no time.” Sanji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and winks up at you. “I promise.”
As always, your heart skips a beat.
“Okay.”
Maybe, you realize suddenly, you don’t necessarily want to be a cook so much as you want to love the way Sanji does.
“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Sanji takes your empty bowl in one hand and offers the other for you to take. “Now, shall I walk the madam to her room, or does she wish to stay out on the deck for a while?”
You allow yourself to grin, considering. “The madam wishes to stay out here and …” you hesitate but then decide to soldier on, “and possibly chat with a dear friend for a few more minutes?”
Your pulse pounds in your ears.
Sanji’s eyes widen a bit. Then he blinks, and then he smiles, drawing his hand back and quickly sitting down next to you once more.
“A lady’s wish is my command,” he says.
He takes out a cigarette, making a quip about Patty while he lights it, and your combined laughter rings out across the Baratie. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach.
Indeed, this is home.
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libertyybellls · 4 months
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KISS IT OFF ME !
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pairing; finnick odair x f!dist4!reader
summary; finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?
contains; FLUFF, established relationship, finnick is still pining for reader, alcohol consumption- but positively i guess, reader is anxious in the beginning, objectification by the capitol as per usual.
a/n: i hope im not misunderstood but when i put specific photos or outfits/hairs in the headers of my works that is not directly what i am picturing the reader as! its more-so the hairstyle, or the outfit- or simply the aesthetic of the picture. not the race, hair nor body type. ur all cutie pies. ok anyways onto the fic kiss kiss.
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
“well would you look at that!” your stylist squeals in your ear, “from the moment you won your last games i have just been dying to design for you again and… here we are!” she ushers you to spin around.
she’d always been kind to you, perhaps less kind to your dignity- always wanting to flaunt you like a show pony- but nonetheless her support had always been there.
“it’s beautiful, thank you.” you smile small at her. so bittersweet, she was oh-so ecstatic to dress you up once more but to you- this meant less serenity to you. more agitation, more distress, more death.
it felt like a paradox, to be adorned in this sweet, innocent, baby pink before you’re sent away to a grim world once again- you’d already gone off on a tangent to finnick. you’d both sobbed solemnly about the cruelty of it all, how you would never be able to live in peace.
but finnick just wanted you both to have this one night, to indulge in the capitol before you were sent of to your deaths, obviously he would see the brighter side of thing- blabbering about plutarchs plan and how he only needs to protect you, katniss, and peeta until he can get you out of there.
sounds so very simple doesn’t it?
once you’d finished your interview you attended a party, a celebration for the third quarter quell. how ironic, what was there to celebrate?
you’d seen the food platters, the spiked drinks, and indulge you did.
your brain had been fuzzy by the time you’d escape the overbearing class of the capitol citizens, who wanted to know every detail of your life.
it was then- finnick had spotted you- so inebriated you’d genuinely laugh at something the woman next to you said.
feasibly being that she’d said something so pretentious you couldn’t help but tilt your head back in laughter. but nonetheless he admired.
he admired your dress, your smile, the way your eyes slightly disappeared when you laughed, the way your hair was laying down your back. he was simply under the spell of you.
it was then your eyes met his smitten ones, so love drunk- or possibly just drunk- that you’d excused yourself and made a beeline straight for him.
he’d encaptured you with warm arms, a leather corset-like article of clothing consumed his waist- followed by his white buttoned down that seemed to be unbuttoned.
you noticed the way his eyes consumed you- not like the others did. not like you were a piece of cake, not like you were something they had to have for the night, but someone who lit his chest alight.
“you look beautiful.” he murmurs into your hair, his hands around your waist.
“i hardly feel that way- im scared, i think.”
he shook his head, pulling you from his warm embrace much to your dismay. “don’t be. you’re with me right now.” finnicks plush lips lay atop your forehead now.
you laugh as he continues to peck your face, giggles leaving your lips.”so beautiful.”
it was only when you nearly toppled over your unnecessarily long pumps that he took not of your consumption.
“so head over heels it seems you’ve had a little to much to drink. what do you say i get you back to your room now? hm?” he straightens you back up. “run you a bath?”
you let out a muffled mm into his chest, your other hand placed on the side of his chest holding you steady. “love you s’much finn.”
it was his turn to laugh now, there was no mockery, no heinous act behind it, just you and finnick. “i know baby.”
-
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diarivie · 5 months
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SMUTTTYYYY, perv coryo, he sniffs ur panties :p
18+ coriolanus who steals your panties, he says he’s only going upstairs to the bathroom, but his feet lead him elsewhere—straight into your bedroom, right to your laundry basket. If he were less of a sick man, he wouldn’t take his time rummaging around the basket, feeling up all your dirty undergarments.
coriolanus who picks up some red panties, gripping onto the material so hard he’s afraid they’ll just vanish into thin air—he brings it to his face, breathing in your scent like a starved man. he doesn’t mean to reach in and grab even more, really! he knows you’ll be looking for them, wondering where they possibly could’ve gone.
coriolanus who glides the material over his cock later that day, he’s pumping himself so quick he’s afraid he’ll rub his own dick dry—but, when his mouth is filled with one set of panties, and the other covering his dick, you can’t possibly blame him? he stole a set he knew you had worn all day in the heat, and call him sick, but the smell of your pussy is enough to leave him brainless.
so, coriolanus who cums straight into your panties, and whines into the set in his mouth, his drool soaking one pair, and cum with the other—if he were anymore sick, he’d drop the panties off at your house, hoping you’d put them on, and let his cum soak all up into you.
but, he still has some dignity left, so coriolanus comes back the next day, and he’s smiling at you like he didn’t rut into your panties like a bitch the night prior. he thinks, if you did catch on, he wouldn’t even be ashamed—infact, he steals some more that same day, and that same night he repeats the process of soaking your underwear wet, but hey, it’s not like you’ll notice, right?
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@ diarivie 2023 , do not repost on any third party websites, or copy my works
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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“you still mad at me?” while balls deep with rafe 😵‍💫😵‍💫.
GODDDD U ATE W THIS PROMPT 😩 like my jaw dropped
rafe was always doing this.
he’d make empty promises, plans even — talk to you all sweet with a warm hand on your back whispering suggestion of “that was the last time i’m getting involved with all that crazy shit, baby. i swear. s’just me you n’me now, you hear me?” and you being the fool, believed him.
until of course you’re catching him pulling back up to the drive on his motorcycle, yanking his helmet off with that ill-tempered expression of his that just tells you enough that somethings gone on, you know, the one where his teeth are grit, lips pressed together like they’d been sewn shut. that’s not even where it ends, because often times barry is close behind, pulling up alone side so they can debrief loudly in the living room, stinking up the place with pot. even if you were mad, you know the rules. no coming down the stairs when barry’s over.
you almost had started to enjoy the feeling of sulking when rafe would eventually skulk up the stairs after barry had left, shoulders heavy and ready to grovel. naturally, you put up quite the fight — and what might surprise you is that rafe let’s you mouth off, even if he knows you don’t understand the importance of his situation and likely never will.
“again and again rafe! how many times am i gonna have to put up with you just running off to god knows where when you promise me you’re not doing all that anymore! you were supposed to be with me today!” you nearly stomp your foot, that last sentence coming out childishly like an abandoned middle child. he nods, jaw ticking as he stares at the ground scratching his forehead, waiting for his lashing to end. once the tears start to roll, that’s his queue. like clockwork.
“come on, hey. y’know i love you, sweetheart. i’m sorry, okay?” he rushes to your side, sliding right up next to you on the bed and thumbing at the first batch of tears on your cheek, his hand so large it cups your skull at the same time. you want to preen into his touch, so elated with any affection after a day of missing him, worrying about him — but you don’t, because you’re still mad. be strong, you tell yourself.
you’re weak. you hate yourself.
not even 10 minutes of your sobbing and complaining later and he’s got your legs over his broad shoulders, balls slapping lewdly against you whilst he all but pumps you. his hands that are on your waist, using you as leverage reposition themselves so that he’s holding himself up over you more. a large hand wraps gently around your ankle as he does so, making sure your leg doesn’t slide off the strong slopes of his shoulder.
squeals and more tears are being punched out of you with each thrust, but he can see you physically relaxing, he can see you reaching out to him with a wobbling bottom lip so that you can hold onto his arms like you always do when he fucks you. it’s neutralising you.
“fuck, that’s m’girl.” he pants, mouth gaping at the way your pussy flutters around him. you’re so reactive to his voice he can’t believe it, never having met anyone who is so enamoured with everything he does. shit, maybe he should treat you better after all. he keeps talking, because he thinks you deserve to cum a whole bunch tonight, after putting up with all his shit. having a girlfriends made him gone all soft.
“you still mad at me?” he tilts his head, and you’re not sure if it’s intended to be mean or mocking, because it certainly doesn’t come out that way — his voice kind and eyes kinder, rolling the well kept muscles in his core to grind his cock against that spongey spot deep within. you don’t answer his question, clinging onto that last crumb of dignity and restraint. you pout through your whimpers, turning your head a little. he takes that opportunity to burrow down into your neck, his open mouth panting against your tepid skin as he speaks lowly again. “dont be mad at me baby. i’m only tryna look after my girl, you want that right?”
“mhm…” you reply before you permit yourself.
he slides his arms under you now, letting your legs down from his shoulders to hook around his waist instead. he’s holding your body close to his as he grinds, his pelvis smushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re so god damn close it hurts and you’ll do anything to cum.
“so good to me, baby.” he sighs and you cry out, arching your body harder to his. “i know. let it out. i’m so bad to you sweetheart s’the least i can do.” he mutters self pityingly before letting out a groan, cock pulsing inside you. you remember thinking about how right he was about that when you fell over the edge into a white hot orgasm.
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rthko · 8 months
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I used to get insecure when reading radical critiques of "born this way" narratives, but I understand it differently now. I'm reading early defenses of homosexuals that concede that their "invert" pathology is worthy of sympathy, and that straight society ought to allow them to have sex (in the right circumstances) so they don't have to be miserable. They go on to claim that while some people who commit homosexual acts are victims of their circumstances, the real perverts are ontologically straight men who commit them by choice.
If I asked every LGBT person I know, "did you choose to be queer," virtually everyone would say no. I have never, to my knowledge, met anyone who would say yes. But if I asked them if they would turn straight/cis if they could, I believe that most, including people who have gone through great hardships on account of their identities, would still say no. The phrase "gay lifestyle" is considered politically incorrect, and indeed there is no one gay lifestyle. But we have also developed culturally distinct circles associated with pleasure as a virtue, creativity, individual dignity and collective care. Many of us learned to look at the straight world not with envy but with relief that we're not part of it.
There are characteristics of our queer identities or behaviors that are a choice. I did not choose to be attracted to men, but I did choose to be promiscuous. I did not choose to be uncomfortable with "male" gender roles, but I did choose to challenge them through gender expression. An emphasis on innateness would imply that the only characteristics of my identity and behavior worth defending are those that are inevitable. It would ask why I still insist on living the way I do when my sexual desires can now just as well be satiated in a legally recognized monogamous marriage.
The subtext of this question, a choice or not a choice, is whether a person is worthy of support. Much like the elusive "gay gene," some trans advocates are searching for the definitive proof of "male brains" and "female brains" that will validate the existence of trans people once and for all. If gender becomes medically or scientifically "provable," perhaps science would then validate trans people. Or, perhaps a brain scan would determine who should or should not consider themselves trans, and create new rationalizations to misgender on "scientific" terms. We need only look back to the sexologists of the late 19th and early 20th century, often gay themselves, who developed scientific rationalizations for queer behavior in good faith only to have them reapplied to nefarious ends.
Many will insist they support LGBT people in the abstract but not the specifics of queer culture. These are the tendencies that don't have a scientific or metaphysical explanation. It is less often we hear claims that one is born to be flamboyant, promiscuous, left wing, kinky or polyamorous, so these tendencies are superfluous. There is a platonic ideal of a lesbian, a gay man, a bisexual or a trans person who follows their natural proclivities and not a step further, and you're not it. So arguments against born this way narratives are not just in defense of those who see themselves as having chosen their gender or sexuality--for what it's worth, I have not knowingly met any. It's that this is a flimsy claim to legitimacy, one that has been used against us, and one that can only be taken so far. I'm not interested in determining who is "faking it." I understand more and more that everyone's body belongs to them, and the steps they take to experience joy and mutual pleasure need no explanation.
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Hii, this is my first time requesting and I wanted to know if you could do an Alastor x hard to get fem reader, who is somewhat stronger than him in the beginning, but as Alastor fights more overlords he gets stronger and tries to woo her into a relationship with him and she is just not having it. Maybe he goes as far as killing a member of the Goetia family to prove his strength but in turn makes the reader like panic and cast him away from her. Maybe Alastor wins her back by taking care of someone that’s been bother her than she doesn’t have time to deal with, like a stalker or something. I hope this wasn’t too much, I just really love your writing!
A/N: kiss your brain i love this so much!!! I love writing for Alastor and i’m so excited for the show to come out so this makes me extra excited!! I haven’t written in a little while so I apologize if this was a bit off, still getting into the swing of things! But I hope this was good!
Warnings: Obsessiveness, slight yandere!, murder, power trip, mentions of death, cannibalism, mentions of blood
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
Hard to get
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Meeting you wasn’t something Alastor thought would affect him as much as it did
You were different, but a different that scared him and he hated that
Your power and calmness together sent shivers down his spine, it gave him an adrenaline he had been craving and he didn’t even know it
After his fight with you he had fled, to hide away bask in your energy
He had gone as far as studying you from afar, watching the way you carried yourself and the way you went about your day
He would become stronger than you, to take you down but to also have you as his own; his bride
In his eyes you were a prize to be cherished, someone to love so dearly you wouldn’t need to lift a finger again
He had talked to you during a meeting with other overlords, after everyone was done cowering from his power
You were quiet, stoic and didn’t say much- hell you didn’t even spare him a glance
¨Hello dear!¨Alastor said calmly to you after the meeting.
You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him with a blank face, waiting for him to continue
¨May I help you?¨You asked, and he just grinned
¨Why yes you may! I couldn’t help but take notice to how awfully somber you looked all by your lonesome and felt it was my duty to accompany you.¨He said with a grin, leaning down to get a better look at your features.
¨I was actually doing quite fine before you came along thank you.¨You say, facing away from him and turning your nose up slightly. You clearly couldn’t be bothered to socialize with someone like him. His smile stretched painfully wide and he fought every urge to pull you to him right there.
¨Well I-¨
You cut him off
¨If you wouldn’t mind, the stench of blood is heavily present on you and I’d appreciate it if you cleaned yourself up properly and kindly left me alone. I’d hate to have a repeat of our first meeting.¨You said, side eyeing him.
He was stunned to say the least, and without another word, walked away from you, his dignity in shards at his feet.
You had really pushed him over this edge and a part of him was living for it but the other part really wanted to burn the entire city down.
Weeks went by and he was silent for a while, pondering over your words and what you had said. Clearly your standards were high, higher than him by far. He would have to play better.
He began taking his anger out on other overlords, claiming territory day by day and night by night. His carnage all over the radio, for you to hear. His subliminal message to you, that he was a changed man. Ready to be the man you needed him to be.
¨Please, whatever you want Ill give it to you, just please enough of this!¨ The overlord shrieked as Alastor rummaged through their belongings, his shadows making work of their lower ranked demons.
He stops when he sees a picture of you on their wall, a photo, where you were actually smiling.
Words couldn’t express how his dead heart felt, he was in such a state of shock he didn’t even remember killing the poor overlord. What a shame, and here he thought he could’ve asked some good questions about you.
He keeps the picture for himself, along with a file the overlord had made about you
Clearly you were smarter than you let on, because the file was made up of small things almost anyone could gather about you- poised, confident, but quiet
Alastor had made his way to where you resided, a large estate in a rural area, with a tower attached to the back of the building. It was gorgeous and seemingly had you written all over it.
Stepping onto the front grounds, he took notice to how the grass was withered and dead, but sharp black roses decorated the steps leading up to you’re front door. It was so elegant, so precise. So much so he had fallen in love all over again.
He hadn’t bothered to get flowers, knowing you would probably take them and kill them right in front of him.
Knocking on the door three times he waited quietly, hearing light footsteps make their way to the door.
A smaller, frail woman opened the door, and he smiled politely down at her.
¨Hello sir, I believe her majesty is not available right now. Though she expected your arrival. Would you care to come inside and wait for her with some hot tea?¨ The small woman asked.
Alastor just nodded and stepped inside, taking the interior in as best as he could, hoping to burn the image into his brain. The smaller woman led him through various halls, all elegantly decorated by your hand as she explained, before leading him to your study, a large library with a glass windows all around.
He took a seat, taking the liberty to put a record on, slowly humming to the jazz as he waited for your arrival.
Some time later you stepped in, Góetia prince in toe as you pulled a book from the higher shelves with your magic, handing it to the prince.
¨I believe this was all¨ was all you said. He nodded, the two of you giving Alastor a quick glance before shaking hands. The Goetia prince turned on his heel and left quickly, leaving you to deal with Alastor.
¨You have proven to be a constant thorn in my side.¨You sigh, sitting across from Alastor in your study. He just grins, finally happy to have some of your attention.
¨Well a thorn does belong on a rose, does it not?¨He asked, and you clicked your tongue.
¨Roses get their thorns cut off.¨You reply, still cold and monotone. There’s no expression on your face, and its then he takes in your appearance.
Dressed from head to toe in a long black dress that hugs you quite nicely. Your hair is done back, away from your face, making your features all the more present. You sit cross legged, and don’t say much else, waiting for a response.
¨Well that is also true.¨Alastor finally draws out. You hum, leaning back in your chair.
¨What it is you want from me?¨You ask finally, eyes shutting for a moment.
¨Well I-¨Alastor stops, the door opening to reveal the smaller woman again.
¨Excuse me your majesty, but the prince is back- and quite enraged.¨She said nervously, a loud crash coming from down the hall. You sigh, standing.
¨A moment please.¨You excuse yourself, leaving the study. The small woman stays inside, and Alastor decides to take this time to question her.
¨That prince, is he?¨Alastor asks, and the small woman shakes her head.
¨Goodness no, her majesty would never get with royalty. She’s trying to get away from that life.¨The small woman said. So the prince wasn’t your prince, that was for sure.
¨How long has she been down here?¨Alastor asks, knowing his arrival had been pretty recent.
¨twenty years. Died on March fifth, 1909.¨ The small woman said. ¨She was a child when she died, but thankfully to her power, she can continue to age as much as she wants here. Per her family’s request.¨ The woman said.
¨I hope you two are having fun gossiping.¨You said stepping back into the room, flicking a piece of glass off of your hand. Alastor sits up, now a bit more confident in talking to you.
¨Oh the most fun one could have.¨Alastor draws on, the small woman nodding to him as she steps out. You take your place back across from him, massaging your temples.
¨Lets get on with this shall we.¨You say, ¨I don’t know what you want from me. But let it be known I have felt you watching me, lurking as one would say. If you don’t want a detachment from your head to your torso I would politely suggest you leaving me alone.¨You say, your eyes sharper, but tone still calm. He could see the enragement behind your tone.
¨Why don’t we have dinner? I can explain much more than my dear.¨
¨Do not call me that.¨You say, and he laughs.
¨I will not be so easily swayed, unfortunately for you.¨He says grinning. He stands, tapping his staff on the ground to wake his radio up. ¨I do believe that my visit must be cut short. I have more sinners to erase!¨He grins happily, poofing himself out of the room and elsewhere thanks to his shadow.
You don’t hear from him for quite some time, and its almost comforting. He kept his distance at overlord meetings, even though fewer overlords were alive to be present thanks to him.
You had began getting small gifts, and seeing shadows whenever you turned corners. Almost like a mind game. Though you were sure it was him, you had more important things to tend too than his childish games.
It wasn’t until you had gotten home from the Goetia ball that you were face to face with him again.
In the foyer of your home, black tiles stained red, Alastor stood in the middle of the mess. The Goetia prince beheaded in your home.
¨What have you done?!¨You yelled, panic settling in. Alastor had worked so hard for this. A Goetia prince? Hell royalty was a new kill for him truly.
¨He wont bother you anymore my dear, of course I had hoped the mess would be cleaned by now but the fight he put up was quite time consuming.¨He said with a chuckle.
¨Alastor get out. Now.¨You said, and it was then he had froze. You were surrounded by an aura of black smoke, breathing heavy and eyes going full white. The room had began to get darker, and the doors behind you flung open, wind raging as he fought to keep his feet planted on the ground.
¨Cant we just-¨
¨I said- get, out.¨You said, swapping places with him in a blink of an eye, having his body pushed through your doorway with the wind, sending him into the forest far away from your home.
It had been ten years since then.
Alastor had felt defeated. He had tried all he could. Gifts, flowers, cleaning up your messes that you refused to admit were yours. Hed taken out such awful suitors who thought they had a chance with you.
It wasn’t until the next overlord meeting, when you didn’t show up, he had gotten worried. He knew he should’ve stayed away. But he just couldn’t. He hadn’t looked you in the eye for so long, but putting his own fear judgment aside, he decided to check up on you. Rosie, a friend he had acquired, had told him one visit wouldn’t hurt.
He found your doors wide open, the area eerily quiet, the dust coating your home entirely out of character for you. A man stood in your foyer, calling your name over and over frustrated.
¨ Please Y/n,talk to me! Anything!¨He said. The man was trying his hardest to get you to show yourself.
¨Excuse me.¨ Alastor said, and the man turned to look at him.
¨Who the fuck are you?¨ The man asked, and Alastor just smiled.
¨ Someone you’re going to wish you never met.¨ he said. The man doesn’t have time to react, his bones breaking on him, as he collapses on the floor with a loud shriek of pain. It draws out for a bit before the man finally dies, a slice to his chest shutting him up as he chokes on his own blood. Alastor hums as his shadows make quick work of cleaning the mess he made. He knew you hated your tiles stained.
¨Alastor?¨ You ask, standing at the top of the staircase. Your hair is down, still in the same dress Alastor had memorized so well. He smiles, his dead heart freezing over at the sight of you.
¨hello dear. Forgive me for my sudden intrusion. You weren’t at todays meeting and I thought to check up on you.¨He said, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiping his hands with it. You walked down the steps slowly, taking in the shadows working on the now dead man on your floor.
¨ Did you do this?¨You asked, looking through the open door of your home. Your voice was softer than before. You looked a mess, but almost put together in a way. As if you were only slightly losing your mind.
¨Yes.¨He said, taking your hand and pulling you closer to him. He figured this was his last shot with you. Now that he had you here, he had to take advantage.
¨Mon cheri, I know you casted me away all those years ago. But I have you here now, and I cannot hold this will in my heart any longer without telling you.¨He said, his other hand turning your face to have you look at him. Your eyes were different this time, something he couldn’t read. But still, he kept on. ¨ I believe my love for you is strong in itself. I can protect you, you wont ever have to worry about some deadly sinner like this again. I know you didn’t believe I was capable of making you happy. But I must know now, if I am truly worthy of your love. I will do whatever it takes.¨ He said.
Your eyes were dark, with something he could only describe as pure lust. ¨Alastor please, you always were.¨You say with a smile. He had been so, immature before. But after years it seemed he changed, on the surface that was. Maybe you could give him a chance. Maybe he was worth coming out of the dark for a bit. Especially now, since he was stronger than you.
¨But, you must promise me something.¨ You say to him, and he nods quickly.
¨Of course.¨ He says. You grin at his willingness, and turn away from him, the mess he made now long gone.
¨Do not ever play me for a fool again.¨ You say. He stiffens and nods, hands as gently as possible reaching out for you.
He turns around around to face him, and almost jumps when he hears the doors to your home slam shut.
You don’t bat an eye, instead pulling him in by his tie and with a chuckle, eye his shadows as they snicker in a corner at the sight of the two of you. ¨ Dont worry, I know you wont.¨
Alastor just grinned, finally proud of himself. Not only had he gotten his power, no, he had gotten his hands on you as well.
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j-jinxee · 3 months
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Ooo can you write about about how Alastor would use restraints, he’d defo get turned on by how helpless reader would look when they’ve got a chain wrapped around them, with his need for control.
PRISONER ☆
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TYPE - Alastor x Reader
WARNINGS - restraints/being tied up, semi public sorta?, ownership, swearing, oral receiving, humiliation.
authors note - tysm for requesting!! especially for Alastor hehehe, hope u like ittt >:)
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That night came back to you every time you got pulled down by that fuckers chain. The most regrettable night of your life, you were so far gone you really thought he'd help you. Making any deal while you were drunk was a bad idea, but making a deal with the radio demon?? Even worse. He's made you do sickening things for him in the past, all things you never would've done if your soul wasn't on the line; but nothing that made your stomach turn quite like this one.
You made the mistake of confronting him right before he went on the air. That pissed him off enough, and thought you needed a reminder of who you belonged to. Hence why you're tied up in his radio tower, chain around your neck, and screaming his name for all of Hell to hear.
Alastor made you crawl up to his radio tower, him holding the chain, then tied you up with dark sorcery, and clicked "start broadcast".
"Hello my dear viewers! Hope you're having a grand evening. Today will be a little different to my usual style of broadcast, but I trust you'll enjoy it nonetheless" His voice turned scratchy and demonic towards the end, making you nervous for what was to come.
The only luminance in the tower was the faint glow of the red sky, and the shine of Alastor's eyes. You had no idea how many people were listening right now, or what was even going to happen, you just hoped no one could tell it was you.
You swore you could smell his arousal. It was rare, but you could tell he liked seeing you chained up. He never expressed any romantic feelings towards you, only savage, animalistic needs to over-power you. You let him have his way, since there was nothing you could do about it, but this? This was a little past your limit.
Your hands were behind your back, legs bent, and whole body hoisted up. You had no clue what happened to your clothes, they vanished off your body when the ropse appeard around you. Your neck was angled slightly up from the floor, enough to see a little out the window, but not enough to hurt. That's when you felt him.
You gasped abruptly as you felt his hot tongue on your clit, "Ah!" It took you by surprise - to say the least. You obviously wanted to hold back your moans in order to keep some dignity... but, holy fuck he was good.
It was like being chained up increased the pleasure, you swore it'd never felt this good before. His tongue made you squirm, but squirming hurt, especially when you held back. You thought you may aswell give him what he wants instead of agitating him even more.
"Mmm- Fuck! Alastor please"
"Please what my dear?"
You didn't even know what you were asking for, you wanted to say please stop, but you knew you couldn't, it felt too good.
"Pl- Ah! Please don't stop!"
Yeah real good fucken choice, beg him to keep going and see where that'll get ya.
The next thing you felt was his tongue diving deep into your core, fuck. You knew he'd be skilled, but this was on a completely different level.
"Ohhh, fuck! I'm- I'm gonna cum, ah!"
Your legs attempted to collide, obviously being held back by the rope. As Alastor felt your thighs start to shake, he only increased his pace, sending you over the edge. The coil in your stomach finally snapped, sending shivers throughout your whole body as you screamed Alastor's name for all of Hell to hear. Even if they weren't listening to the broadcast, they might’ve still heard you.
Your vision was blurry, your face was hot, and currents of pleasure still shot through your core like electricity. Alastor got up and made his way to the control panel, "I hope this is to your liking dear listeners! Because we're just getting started"
...you've gotta be fucking kidding.
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Rlly rlly hoping u like thisss 🤞🏻 I think it's aight, I just love writing for Alastor tbh hehe. Cheers x
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