#and i very much fantasized about being allowed to eat more
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kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.
kinktober day three - dumbification
pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader
wc: 9.0k
summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.
warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare
reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!
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IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50.
so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down.
joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you.
but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does.
he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up.
it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.
but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.
shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.
you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you.
you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt.
joel.
“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table.
“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing.
you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door.
“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes.
“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.
“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv.
“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off.
“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass.
“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath.
you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed.
it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you.
“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug.
joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.
“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom.
joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts.
“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.
joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep.
you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them.
you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day.
the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills.
you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.
“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face.
“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.
you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly.
“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.
“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his.
“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly.
“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.
you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you.
he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments.
“so damn pink,”
“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”
“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?”
which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him.
but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything.
“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it.
“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing.
your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.
never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.
you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance.
you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him.
“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth.
“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off.
you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment.
joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.
he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.
he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor.
joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways.
but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.
but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did.
you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim.
he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything.
the opportunity showed itself, he just took it.
now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight.
you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.
he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically.
he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole.
he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum.
he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt.
“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do.
“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now.
“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more.
“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so.
“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room.
“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite.
“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently?
“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side.
“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him.
“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him.
“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass.
“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead.
“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished.
he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be.
“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed.
“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you.
“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.
“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.
“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth.
“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?
“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions.
“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask. you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up.
“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it.
“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it.
he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet.
“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him.
“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.
but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him.
“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you.
“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought.
“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him.
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joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were?
he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place.
after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel.
one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine.
you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself.
you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find.
you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex.
you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that.
in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.
he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.
you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.
“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered.
“it’s joel,” he said and you paused.
“joel?” you asked.
you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him.
now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted.
“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you.
“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes.
“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him.
“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly.
“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight.
“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight.
“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.
he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything.
“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh.
“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you.
“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him.
“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face.
“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here.
“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall.
“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body.
“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined.
“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck.
“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream.
you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall.
“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back.
and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize.
“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours.
“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional?
“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck.
“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you.
“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.
his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin.
“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock.
“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,”
he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face.
“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you.
“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did.
only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman.
“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you.
“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen.
he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you.
“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging.
“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him.
“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again.
“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction.
his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half.
“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side.
“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you.
you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him.
“just,”
“he, ugh,”
he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?”
“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel.
“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists.
“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place.
you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,”
it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal.
“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch.
“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,”
if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck.
“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit.
“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,”
he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it.
“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs.
“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off.
“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you.
“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath.
“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb.
you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him.
it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you.
your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling.
“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees.
“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass.
“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you.
he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him.
“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle.
“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy.
“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?”
“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him.
he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him.
“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air.
“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched.
you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists.
he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct.
it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up.
“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest.
“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing.
“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released.
“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours.
joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job.
“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer.
“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice.
“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you.
“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper.
his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body.
“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself.
“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey.
the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands.
you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you.
“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck.
“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing.
you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak.
“such a pretty girl,”
“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,”
“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”
“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”
you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out.
you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.
“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either.
“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter.
“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still.
“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.
“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face.
“i’ll help ya with that.”
joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in.
he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.
#plus size smut#chubby smut#plus size reader#joel miller#joel miller x plus sized reader#joel tlou#smut#chubby#joel the last of us#tlou series#tlou hbo#tlou joel#fat girls#joel miller tlou#joel x reader#the last of us hbo#joel miller smut#kinktober 2023#kinktober#female reader#october#halloween#fall
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Office Life (Shigaraki x Reader)
Just Shigaraki awkwardly fantasizing about the cute receptionist who works in the same office building as him. You guys let me know if you like this quick “imagine” format for when I don’t have a full fanfic idea.
Smut. 18+. Violence/Blood (not Reader’s). Gender neutral Reader. Dubcon.
Shigaraki, who never had much interest in sex before, when he was so busy with the League and the war. Sure he jacked off to hentai every now and then, but the thought of having real life sex with a real live person didn’t really enter his brain.
Until now.
Shigaraki, who is fresh out of prison and working a dumb office job as part of his “rehabilitation”. Who is ignored and avoided by most of his coworkers because of his very publicized past.
Shigaraki, who just can’t understand why you’re nice to him, why you smile at him so sweetly, like he’s an actual human being and not a monster. Why you, the cute receptionist from down the hall, keeps coming into the office he works in with five other men, desks all lined up neatly.
Shigaraki, who likes that you look at him and acknowledge him, but sometimes has the irrational urge to show you how terrifying and monstrous he can be, to make you fear him the way everyone else does.
Shigaraki, who sometimes has violent fantasies about you that he will never act upon. Like today when you come into the room to share cookies you baked and brought in to the office. You, having such an obvious crush on him that even a socially inept weirdo like him can tell, blush and smile shyly when he takes a cookie from the box you hold out to him.
Shigaraki, who has no idea what you could possibly like about him, but feels a little smug that the rest of the guys in the office are clearly jealous.
And as you move toward the back of the room handing out cookies, constantly glancing back to see if he’s eating his, as if wanting his approval, Shigaraki’s dark fantasy takes over again.
He imagines standing up from his chair and moving through the room, decaying each man in turn, most of them still holding their dumb fucking cookies, only to reach the back, where you’re cowering in a corner, trembling with fear as blood pools around your feet.
You turn around to look at him, terror in those big wet eyes of yours, and then the pleading starts. He imagines you begging him not to kill you, babbling promises to not tell anyone, confessing your love in some desperate attempt to win his favor. You’re still clutching your frilly pink box of homemade cookies in your shaking hands.
In his fantasy, he has perfect control over his quirk at all times, and with no effort at all he can decay the clothes right off your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable in the room full of bloody chunks. And you drop the cookies in your shock, trying to cover yourself with your hands.
He won’t allow that. He’s wondered what you look like under your clothes for too long. And so he roughly pulls your hands away, getting an eye full, before shoving your back onto the nearest desk, spreading you open and unbuckling his pants.
In this fantasy, you always struggle at first. But after he starts fucking you hard, you begin moaning his name, wrapping your arms around him, looking up at him with teary eyes and blushing cheeks as he rails you.
Shigaraki, who snaps back to reality when you walk by him, the scent of your floral perfume drawing his attention. You look at the uneaten cookie in his hand and a flash of sadness crosses your face. He hurries to take a bite, and tries to give you a smile that isn’t creepy.
You smile back, and he knows for a fact he will never, ever act on his worst impulses with you. Because far more than his desire to show you how much of a villain he can be, he wants you to keep smiling at him.
And someday, maybe he’ll stop being a fucking coward and ask you to go to a movie with him.
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If a version of Midnight Sun existed for each following instalment of the Twilight series (New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn), what do you think they’d be called/what would you call them and what (new) scenes would be in them?
Anon, you speak my greatest dream. I want this in my life. If no one else does, then I am the sole person who does. If there is not one person who wants this, it means that I have died.
I need this.
But for now, I can only imagine (and no doubt fail miserably to what it would be in actuality).
New Moon
The thing is that Meyer would also want to call this New Moon for the reason that she called it New Moon for Bella: this is a book about hopelessness. Edward leaves, Bella's soulmate, she literally cannot survive without him and this book is her discovering "oh, yeah, I literally cannot survive without him" (and making friends with Jacob but let's be real Meyer was never that into that).
It's a book where the moon, the light, is gone.
For Edward, we have the same narrative, he tries to leave Bella for her own good, fails, has a miserable time, and comes crawling back only to find that he's made everything worse.
But because Edward is more dramatic, and to thematically work with Midnight Sun (named thus as Bella is the unexpected sunlight in what should be the darkest of Edward's nights) we have Polar Night which is the phenomenon opposite of Midnight Sun where instead of the sun never setting at all we have the night never ending.
As for what would be in it. My friend, my beautiful friend, everything would be in it.
We'd get the scene where Edward bullies his family into leaving, many of them having reservations, and then steals all Bella's photographs and tries and fails to steal the stereo out of her car. We'd get scenes of Edward fantasizing about Bella marrying and holding hands with MiKe NEWtoN and it being entirely too much for him. We get all of the birthday party, period, which from Edward's point of view would no doubt be insane.
We have Edward so fucking depressed that he feels he's bringing the family down and chooses to leave on the vague pretext of catching Victoria. Then he doesn't catch Victoria and loses her in Mexico but is so depressed he just keeps going south until he hits Brazil.
Where he stays, and per what he says to Bella (which is undoubtedly not the entire truth) he was fucking miserable and did nothing for months. Did he have a Hallucination Bella who told him not to eat human food because it'd make him sick? Did he write a rock opera about Bella Swan only to realize it didn't live up to real life and burn it in a fit of despair and anger? What about the family calling to check in? We know that happened, Rosalie could reach Edward and he answered, so did they just call and quietly try to ask if Edward's coming back home or not? You know? Anytime? Edward?
And then of course his pleading for death with the Volturi, being told no, planning his elaborate massacre-suicide before settling on good old suicide without any murder and Bella being alive and that whole debacle from his point of view including "OH NO OTHER MAN MOVED IN" when he realizes Jacob's... kind of... a thing...
Everything would be new in part because we see so little of Edward and given the insanity in Midnight Sun that was never in Twilight I can't even guess to what Edward got up to for months in Rio.
It could be fucking anything.
Eclipse
Or "Edward did a bad thing and is now very nervous" the novel. As for what it's call, this is less clear as we have to go with the sun/moon themes here, and Eclipse is already taken. If we're allowed weather related events maybe "Eye of the Hurricane" as there's a storm out there and this book is about Edward barely holding his shit together. This is his nightmare scenario in every way.
Bella has a new love interest, a friend she believes is platonic who is very interested in her, and worse, Edward actually does admire and is hands down in Edward's opinion the better man for her to be with. Bella's changed when he was gone and is now an adrenaline junky, what else about her has changed? How much did he miss? She's involved in werewolves who all hate Edward, for good reason, and want her to leave him, for good reason. Edward has discovered that he actually can't leave Bella, Alice was right, even though he wants to be that strong desperately. Bella got the family to agree to turn her and they'll do it, Edward's barely gotten her to agree to be turned by him instead, but she's hemming and hawing about marrying and committing to him and she wants him to bang him (which will likely lead to her death)
Edward is straight up not having a good time, bro.
So, we'd get Edward's insane plans to keep Bella and Jacob apart, his meeting Bella in the road after her looking like he'd love nothing more than to pull The Terminator where he chases her car down. We get Edward's increasing nervousness that Bella "wants to be with him forever" but "doesn't want to marry him" (which for Edward, understandably as he doesn't have Bella's background, is something that just doesn't compute). And there's Jacob, kissing Bella, warming her up at night, thinking very dirty things when Edward's sitting right there internally screaming.
And of course, offscreen things with the family, likely venting about the Denali who are leaving them to die because they won't let them kill the children Native Americans, wondering if they're all going to die in this fight, even more of the tent scene with Jacob (which I'm sure, somehow, I'm sure, got very homoerotic in there). Probably sobbing to Alice "I fucked up" and then hating Rosalie BECAUSE THIS IS ALL HER FAULT HISS HISS.
And of course, what we know he sees from Bree and perhaps the discussion with the family that Bella never got to be privy to.
And I imagine a lot of fantasies of Bella pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies.
Breaking Dawn
I'm going to bow out for this one too, Meyer would want to name it that. Maybe we get "Hailey's Comet" or something, in that Edward has related Bella to a comet streaking across the bleak sky of his life and this is him learning to accept to be happy and perhaps good things are allowed to happen to him.
But anyways.
I mean.
We get Breaking Dawn.
We get Edward gearing himself up for sex and asking the family how to bang a woman. We know he did this. Canonically he confesses to Bella, in the weirdest manner possible, that he asked his entire family how to do it (and it made it clear that Carlisle didn't really approve and was pretty :/ and "don't do it" about all of it). We get the family probably watching Alice like hawks because they're waiting for her to tell them if Bella lived or died through intercourse. We get Edward interrogating the maid in Portuguese and god knows what they even said to one another but it had to be wild.
We get Edward planning Bella's abortion, the betrayal by Rosalie yet again, and then more planning of her forced abortion with Jacob and his opinion on Jacob turning from "respected rival" into "my only friend".
Then we get Edward's complete flip on Renesmee which must have been... I don't even know. But he'd be thinking she's the spawn of Satan before that (in the most Edward manner possible) and then that she's Jesus after that (in the most Edward manner possible).
Then of course there's "my son, Jacob" and honestly probably fantasizing about an adult Renesmee pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies. Let's be real here. and just...
Look.
I can't predict this.
What we saw of Breaking Dawn was already insane and this would only be more so because it's Edward. There's so much we don't see as Bella pays 0 attention to the other vampires and to the family at large and Edward would just...
I have no idea.
It would just be madness.
TL;DR
I need this.
#twilight#twilight meta#twilight headcanon#twilight renaissance#edward cullen#anti edward cullen#meta#headcanon#opinion
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Hello! With the discussion of Yoshida with your recent analysis, what's your perspective on Yoshida offering Denji the choice before: of being chainsaw man or having his family and how much of that was Yoshida enforcing his own ideas of what's good for denji vs his efforts to help denji in the limited scope of his position? I feel like this could have been talked about before on the blog but with added context from csm 156 interested in how this develops too
Denji is Yoshida's reflection that he refuses to see
The answer might be easy if I aligned myself with my own position, the one I established in my analysis 156, which attempts to theorize that Yoshida is on Denji's side
But you know I know I haven't convinced everyone with my blindness around Yoshida's hidden goodness. So I'm going to answer your question, but from the opposite position: let's explain Yoshida's reactions, whether as a non-ally of Denji or as an enemy.
I know this may confuse you because you'd like me to analyze chapter 133 in relation to what I analyzed about chapter 156. But even if I assumed the opposite, I would have come to the same conclusion.
I love Yoshida, and even though I seem to have left him out of my analyses, I've always reflected on every one of his interventions. And something strikes me, Yoshida often seems to be talking to himself, even deluding himself almost as if to hold on.
In chapters 120/121, Yoshida invites Asa. Now fans (like me!!!) are fantasizing about rivals, a fake love triangle and a date. But in reality, it all falls depressingly flat.
But this chapter remains interesting for two reasons: two people share their experience of solitude as the only way to avoid disappointment and be happy. However, Asa projects herself into a possible love with Yoshida.
It's like reciting something to convince yourself but secretly wishing for the opposite…
But what's interesting is that we take the position of thinking that everything Yoshida said was linear.
Let's review. Yoshida knows that Asa was leering, that she looked depressed, and since he's watching Denji, he must have known about the date, hence the warning that comes later. So why get involved? As Asa's Nayuta-altered memory made him the executioner, why make her pain worse?
Because Yoshida must have had a childish reaction. It's as if, for once, he hadn't quite accepted his role as a spectator of events. I think Yoshida must have seen himself in Asa in some way. In chapter 121, Asa is all silence and Yoshida is for once almost in monologue. It was as if everything he said would convince him a little more out loud. Whether it was his theory of happiness up to........ "stay away from Denji". That point. Part of the points that concern him as much as they concern Asa.
I think and I'm convinced that even by not interpreting Yoshida as an ally, he became more sensitive and involved with Denji's plight and didn't always know how to place an emotional wall between them. Because Denji catches him off guard, makes Yoshida's smiling mask fall off. And this is something I've never verbalized before, but it's a pillar in my interpretation:
Being with Denji pushes you to be yourself.
Because Denji refuses the social game, doesn't tend to judge as teenagers of this age usually would, and has extremely sincere reactions that are so unpredictable that they don't allow for calculated responses, responses that form the shell of other characters like Asa and Yoshida.
What Asa liked about Denji, above all, was that he was able to give her confidence and make her proud when everyone else was putting her down. You don't like fish, so what? Eat starfish. Because yes, even if it was boring, I saw you, I listened to you and you made an impact on me. Because you're not insignificant.
Denji has that effect on Yoshida. Very symbolically, during their new interaction in part 2, the protagonist doesn't remember Yoshida. Of course, it's quite funny, because it can be interpreted in all sorts of ways, like the fact that Denji is so uninterested in guys that he forgets them so easily. But it's symbolic for Yoshida's character. He's so fake and so in control that Denji doesn't perceive anything in him.
And it's when he becomes more and more desperate as a result of these reactions, and when his mask gradually breaks, that Denji finally remembers his name. Because Yoshida acts less like a public hunter and more like himself, like Yoshida.
I think in chapter 133, it's really a way of trying to wake Denji up and help him. But then again, it helps to weaken Yoshida's mask. When Yoshida repeats that Denji has only two choices, that of his family or Chainsaw Man, Denji repeats that he has two. From Yoshida's point of view, this is fundamental.
The system offers only one choice, only one possible path. But Denji opposes both. In a chapter about protest, we also talk about his position towards the system. Oppose it, protest as if in the background, claim the symbol of Chainsaw Man or oppose it, see it as a societal evil, a danger of undermining the system. For I repeat, Yoshida has decided to believe in the system when Denji distrusts it.
So Yoshida gets angry, belittling Denji as if he can't see the absurdity of this dilemma imposed on a boy who has been given a choice. Who was only told there were only two choices when there were three. Rehearsing allows Yoshida to convince himself, but we see that this controlled mask has completely disappeared, giving way to anger and a kind of panic. Because Yoshida's ideals are unravelling.
Denji is a reflection.
Reflecting the cruelty of the mafia that Katana doesn't want to admit, the dream of going to school that Reze is trying to forget, allowing the trust that Asa thought impossible and the reflection of Yoshida: a teenager, who will trace a third path to the two that will be reserved for him.
If Chainsaw Man allows you to project what you want, have or be in him, hence the pandemic of CSM wannabe. Denji, hidden behind it, is doing something far more unbearable: showing us who we are.
Aki's vengeance gives way to a desire to be surrounded by loved ones, loved ones he may not be able to protect. Thinking only of oneself shows Power, through her sacrifice for Denji, that she is capable of love even if it goes against her survival.
So chapter 156 takes on a softer version. I repeat: why did you wake Denji up just to tell him he'd lost?
That Yoshida had warned him? Once again, through a strategy of self-conviction and self-protection, what Yoshida is doing is reminding us that complete alienation from the system is better than individual affirmation (which is what Denji is punished for, having repeated that he is Chainsaw Man). This identical public hunter's costume is the symbol of this submission. Yoshida is no longer even a fake high-school student. He's just a public hunter.
But I find this chapter takes on an air of funeral and goodbye. Yoshida's costume, taking on that of someone in mourning in a symbolic way.
Because saying goodbye to Denji.
It means saying goodbye to yourself.
So I ask you, Anon, and you, the reader, does Yoshida really want to continue refusing to see his reflection ?
#chainsaw man#csm#csm part 2#csm spoilers#denji#yoshida#yoshida hirofumi#asa#asa mitaka#my thoughts#csm 156#csm 121#csm 133#ask#<3
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GOOD MORNINGGGG
how do you think the rest of the DOA members would be like vampies? :3
- 🌀
GOOD MORNING!! Sorry that this is so late, my professor assigned some super hard assignments smh🙏 I honestly find it very interesting to think about the bsd characters in some vampire au so ty for this ask:3
I don’t normally write for Fukuchi but because this is just a small blurb I figured why not! Bram is also different from the others, as his doesn’t take place in an au and instead takes place in canon. Everyone else’s takes place in an au where their vampirism has a completely different set of rules from Bram’s!! You won’t become mindless if they bite you ty
I feel like Fukuchi has the most control out of any of them? He doesn’t really bite you often because he feels like it’s immoral. He’s already committing enough immoral crimes that completely go against everything him and his image stand for. He’s a war hero after all, why would he want to hurt more people than he already has to, especially when hurting you isn’t even going to save anyone. The only real exception would be if he was quite literally starving, and if you’re in poor health? Forget it. He’s never biting you. He would never bite you recreationally, it would only be if he was hiding from another organization and hadn’t eaten in multiple days.
If he were to bite you though, it wouldn’t be very different. He is a man with a lot of willpower and control. He’s able to control himself better than anyone else on this list, in all honesty. He’ll drink the amount he needs to be sustained, then he’s finished. No more no less.
He would enjoy eating nice meals, like perfectly cooked steak, or other things similar. He wouldn’t be very fond of roadkill, because he has the funds to eat at 5 star restaurants pretty much every day. Why eat things he sees on the side of the road?
Bram is similar in the sense that he has self control. He’s aware of the fact that if he were to bite you, you’d be subjected to becoming nothing more than a mindless, blood sucking creature. That isn’t what he wants from you. He wants to be with you for the rest of his days, even if he knows it isn’t realistic because you’re merely human. He’ll try to simply come to terms with the fact he won’t have you for very long, but it’ll only take him maybe 4 months after he’s gotten his body back for him to go on the hunt for something that can make him human, or safely turn you into a vampire. He’s aware of the page because of Fukuchi, and it’s his number one goal to get a hold of it now. He’d prefer to get it by teaming up with whoever is in possession of it, but if that doesn’t work out, he isn’t afraid to take a more villainous approach. Anything to keep you.
In terms of biting you, he never has because he knows what will happen. But oh god has he fantasized about it. It’s all he thinks about. You’d look so pretty with his fangs in your neck.
He didn’t really eat much before he got his body, only being fed whenever Fukuchi had someone he wanted turned, but that didn’t happen much until the vampirism outbreak. Now that he’s gotten his body back, he doesn’t bite people as one, he would feel unfaithful to you, even if nothing became of it and it was purely for feeding. He also wants to make a conscious effort to be good for Aya’s sake. He eats food you make for him. He doesn’t really like going out in public often, so he allows you to cook for him. You’ve made plenty of meals with blood in them, like animals, but you’ve also introduced him to other types of food, and even if they serve him no nutritional value, he finds them delicious.
Fyodor would love to bite you. If you’re just another pawn on his comically large chess board, then he’ll drink your blood with no real intent of giving you anything in return. Sure, he’ll toss you a rag, but you have to clean yourself off! He’s so horrible. If he cares about you, however, he is strangely tender. He has a sense of self control, but sometimes he gets so desperate for your blood he can’t help himself! He’ll hold you down and nibble into your shoulder. He likes biting your shoulder a strange amount. He can’t explain it, it’s just a nice, convenient spot to bite. This is why he loves it when you wear tops with thin or no straps. Makes for east access! Also let’s not forget that this man is anemic. He’d like to bite you to help get his iron levels up, so at least him constantly asking for you to let him bite you has some practical use? If you say no to him biting you, he’ll respect it. He cares about you, he wouldn’t do anything against your will. You’re the light of his life, after all. You’re perfection, therefore, what you say goes.
Whenever Fyodor does bite you, he’s quite literally on top of you, straddling you. He likes the power it gives him, even if in your opinion, he looks rather pathetic biting you while literally straddling you and trembling from how good you taste. He also likes to bite you from the back sometimes. He’ll walk up behind you, hugging you and swaying from side to side before grazing his fangs over your shoulder, awaiting your permission. He is capable of pacing himself, but if he begins ti notice you're getting dizzy more frequently, or you're getting woozy while he's biting you, he'll stop and clean up your bite, wordlessly cleaning you up and cuddling you.
He also likes to eat fine dining. Nothing can quite compare to the taste of your blood, but there are some fair substitutes. He will drink your blood whenever the opportunity presents itself, but he'll also take the two of you out to a nice restaurant and let you order whatevee you please, while he'll order something simple and bloody.
Nikolai is certainly the most strange when it comes to his behaviors. When he bites you he’ll take the blood left over and wipe it on your cheek or something weird like that😭 he also likes biting you in weird places because he finds it funny?? Like he’ll nibble on your fingertips and shit just for funzies?? Similarly to Fyodor, he would bite you whenever given permission. He doesn’t try to limit himself, if you give him permission, why stop? He’d treat you like fine dining. You’re sweet and yummy and Nikolai can’t get enough of it! If you were to tell him no, say that you don’t want him to bite you, he’d roll his eyes playfully but agree. He obviously wouldn’t want you to leave him because he bit you without asking! Then he wouldn’t be able to drink your yummy blood anymore. He also does care about what you have to say, even if he doesn’t admit it because he feels like it makes him seem less free.
As I said earlier, he likes biting weird obscure places, like your fingertips. He’ll lean down like a gentleman and kiss the top of your hand, slowly trailing down and kissing your knuckles, then your fingertips, before finally nibbling your finger tips. As he kisses you he places him hands on your stomach to press you down onto the nearest couch or bed, so you’ll be sitting up comfortably while he leans ahead of you. He also likes biting places like your collarbones, arms, etc. as much as he likes biting in weird obscure places, the neck is nice too. It’s simple, but affective.
He pretty much only drinks your blood..he’ll go a few days without eating (luckily vampires can last sufficiently longer without food that normal humans can), so once you’ve rebuilt your energy he can drink your blood again. Rinse and repeat that process over and over again, and you’ve got Nikolai’s eating habits. He’s also a messy eater..there will be blood pretty much dripping from wherever he bit you when he’s done so he can wipe it on your face or body.
We’ve already talked about Sigma a fair amount, but I’m down to cover the basics. He loves to bite you, in fact nothing can quite compare. He’ll bite you and once he’s done he has this appreciative look on his face. He loves that you’re willing to let him bite you, but he also feels bad. He tends to space out when he bites you, and he prefers biting you in places that have more fat so it hurts less. He’s already a thigh guy but he especially loves biting you there.. your neck is also a good spot to bite though. It’s a little more painful for you, though, so he tends to not bite you there often.
When he’s finished biting you he’ll just lick up the blood, and get a towel. If you’re too tired he’ll just set you down and take a bath with you, bandaging up wherever he bit you. If you’re not, he’ll treat you real good to make up for it. He may love biting you, but somehow, seeing how you’re attached to him at the hip, clinging onto him for the rest of the day is even more satisfying. He finds it cute.
He loves eating stuff you make for him and stuff from nice restaurants, and despite the fact nothing can quite compare to you, he knows he can’t realistically drink your blood every day. You’d get sick, and not to mention it would cause a lot of swelling and bruising. He’d rather space it out.
I was tempted to make this sufficiently more nsfw, but I decided to refrain from anything sexual outside of biting as I didn’t wanna deviate from the original prompt too much..
#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs smut#bsd#bsd smut#sigma x you#sigma bsd#sigma bungou stray dogs#sigma x reader#bsd fukuchi#fukuchi ouchi#fukuchi x reader#fukuchi smut#fyodor dostoyevsky smut#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#fyodor smut#nikolai x reader#nikolai gogol#bungo stray dogs nikolai#bram stoker x reader bsd#bram stoker bsd#bram stoker x reader#bram stoker#bsd bram
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Hey! Love your works! 🙇♀️
I was hoping to request a mha where darling is somehow able to start an escape. But once she's on the edge of being able to get to the outside world she panics and runs back to their yandere very upset.
Hope that makes sense 😅 and no pressure if this one doesn't interest you. Much love and hope you are doing well 🖤
— Wanna be a brat? I'll treat you like one
Warnings: yandere behavior, slight violence, reader being bratty, drugging (reader drugs Aizawa), and yelling.
Oh boy!! Please excuse me if this is to cliche! I was watching The Invisible Man while writing this; so I may have gotten ideas from it. Hope you enjoy regardless!
(P.S, sorry it took so long for me to answer this. I'm so sorry :((!!)
Everything wasn’t enough.
When you ran to the door, it was double locked. Too many bolts to recognize, so many codes and digits that made your brain swirl in circles.
Trying to pry a window open resulting in you hurting yourself — as well as getting your favorite things taken away as ‘punishments’.
Really, it was fucking hell.
That door slightly cracked open? You took your chance to run, scramble against the floor as you heard him yell your name, suddenly being pulled back by thick rope, right back into the arms of your captor.
The same glare, scowl, and tightening hold on you always irritated you — “Why run? I have everything for you, what more do you want?”
You wanted to go home! Not stay here by force, and end up as a good ol’ housewife that you may or may not shape into a sweet doll. It was humiliating to sit there and watch you leave.
Whenever you acted out, he always shook it off as fear and anger; “I understand your upset.”
HA! Yeah, right. You took me by force, dickhead. You have no idea what it’s like.
But, when you had those bad ‘tantrums’ — where you screamed, sobbed and begged to go home. Where your throat dried up and stung, your body shook so bad you couldn’t stand or you were so tired you refused to eat?
He would just push you into a small, yet cold room. Making sure you cooled off, coming back a few minutes later, looking at you with that damn eyebrow raised: “You done? Cause I am.”
You weren’t sure why he always allowed you to express your anger — even though he left the room the minute you started screaming at him.
You told yourself, maybe it was his guilt. Or possibly him losing his patience.
You weren’t sure. But you wanted to leave.
Though, one night, when the two of you were asleep, or at least he was. You were lying there, staring at the darkened ceiling, admiring and fantasizing what it would be like to stare at the moon again. Feel the grass grazed against your back, cold wind blowing all over you.
You couldn’t sleep but that was common. I mean, how could you sleep laying next to the same captor who took you? Nobody would.
Then a thought came. Why not drug him? I mean, since you always threw ‘tantrums’, you always had benadryl on hand due to the insane headaches you whined about; plus, you would just scream at him more till you were knocked out.
“Why can’t I just take care of you?” Shota asked, giving you the glass of water with two medicines that were deemed to work. You rolled your eyes, throwing down the medicine before doing the same with the water.
You heard him sigh, like always at your attitude. You turned your back, feeling him shift his weight beside you before pulling up his phone — the ‘ding!’ coming on and off while you heard him write some type of email.
And… just like that. You made a decision. Right there and then.
“A drink?” You watched him raise an eyebrow at the coffee, a random act of kindness coming from you was rare. You nodded, acting all innocently. “Yeah, jus’ decided to share it with you cause I made some.” You mumbled off, although you saw him smile in the corner of your eye.
Bingo. You watched him take a sip — hum at the taste before going back to grading papers. Taking more sips before watching the entire cup be empty. It made you laugh.
Of course, you had to make sure he wasn’t suspicious of you. You drank your entire cup, possibly got another one before starting yet another scene; yelling at him, watching him sigh before slumping off into the bedroom next door.
Then you know it, he comes in a bit early — “Time to go to bed.”
You looked at the clock, it was only 7:37 am. You faked a groan, before trotting behind him, crawling into bed and watched him sleep away with drool drizzling down his stubbled chin.
Which is where you are now. Cuddled right by his side, watching him snooze away — too hard per say.
You wanna feel bad, yet you never will. Never for this monster — fuck no.
Giving Aizawa one last glance, you slowly but steadily go out of the bed, carefully replacing his tighter hold onto a thick pillow.
Taking small, light steps towards the main room, you tried your best to not step on certain squeaky planks, making sure to keep quiet.
Getting in front of the front door, you crouched and pulled out a bobby pin; sliding it into the lock before turning and twisting it.
Your blood was pumping — hair on your body stood as your thoughts sprawled all over.
Suddenly, you heard a meow behind you; a loud one that made your heart drop.
Turning around, you saw Mickey, a black cat with different colored eyes blinking at you, yawning at such a late time. Aizawa had gotten it for you to keep company, but you thought it was the damned evil.
Somehow, the cat always knew when you were in trouble. Trotting to Aizawa, almost communicating with him and blowing your cover when you were up to no good.
Not now… you thought.
Mickie had stood there, blinking before moving towards you, rolling and pouring loud as a train.
You continued trying to pry the lock, but to no avail. Nothing worked. It was useless.
Finally, going at it while pushing Mickie away. You heard the third lock unlock.
Hope. It gave you hope. You could finally leave
You looked around, completely aware that any moment given, you could be found. But you kept trying, so hard.
Suddenly, Mickie screamed at you; her voice howled throughout the entire, quiet room.
You put your finger on your mouth, wanting her to shoosh.
Meow!
‘Shush!’ You whispered quietly. Grabbing her before petting her, pushing her off to the side.
Meow!!
“What do you think you’re doing?”
A booming voice came from behind you.
You froze, staying where you were as you slightly trembled, thinking what to do next. Before you could manage to do anything, his hand appeared on your shoulder, forcing you up and facing him.
Locking eyes with dark gray ones, you felt your entire body shake — watching his eyebrows narrowing, jawline sharp and strained while his eyes spoke for itself.
You’re in big trouble, missy.
“I asked you a question.” His sultry voice came out, waiting for an answer.
“Get off me,” you sneered, trying to act tough.
Hearing Aizawa scoff, he yanked your arm and dragged you back into the bedroom. Practically throwing you into the maddress stomach first before hearing metal clanking.
Cold — something bare and heavy attached itself towards your ankles.
“These are only temporary,” Aizawa stated. “Until you can behave correctly, these stay on.” He added, before standing up again, his knees popping.
You looked down, seeing chains connected to your feet; they were heavy, an ugly cold that drugged you of shivers into your core.
He looked down at you, anger rising in his face before he demanded a statement from you.
“Say your sorry — and I might reconsider easing the punishments.” He said, while crossing his arms against his chest. His disappointed posture was deafening through your thoughts.
You stared hard at him, teeth clenching in fear and anger, “Fuck you.”
You saw that those words struck a chord in him. Saw his eye twitch in annoyance. Finally, what felt like an eternity he spoke back up.
“It’s my fault for trusting you too much.” He stated, “Drinking that — stupid fucking coffee.”
Did he know?
He looked at you, directly staring into your soul. Almost waiting for you to answer his question.
“I hate you,” You whispered.
Aizawa nodded frustratingly.
“Fine. Wanna act like a brat? I’ll treat you like one.”
He grumbled, reaching over and grabbed your legs, pulling the chain to connect to the bedpost. Before grabbing a coat from the hanger by his bedside.
He stomped away and slammed the door shut. You heard his footsteps leave the apartment, slamming the front door.
A lump forms in your throat.
Something — something was gonna happen and it was not gonna be nice.
Too deep into your thoughts, you failed to notice Mickey climbing onto the bed. You flinched at the sudden loud meow coming from beside you.
Turning to your left, you saw Mickie laying down, purring beside you as she continued grooming herself.
Now… you’re only left with your thoughts. An occasional meow from the damn cat.
What did you get yourself into?
—
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#kokeshi!!#yandere blog#yandere x reader#yandere male#male yandere#yandere anime#yandere drabble#yandere aizawa#yandere shota aizawa#yandere eraserhead#yandere mha x female reader#yandere my hero academia#yandere hero#yandere mha x reader#yandere bnha x y/n#yandere bnha x reader#yandere bnha#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha#yandere mha x gn reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere x female reader#yandere bnha x female reader
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Chrollo Lucilfer x Kurapika
Hi, sorry I haven't posted anything lately. I hope you enjoy.
Most children learn what a soulmate is through stories told by their mother, but Chrollo has no mother and learns what a soulmate is by accident.
He remembers when he found an old storybook among the waste of Meteor City, it told the story of two lovers who after facing a thousand difficulties finally manage to live happily ever after, that was the first time he heard about soul mates, and how he deals with all beautiful things and falls in love with them instantly.
He was born without the mark of a soulmate but he kept telling himself that he had to be patient, that he just had to wait.
Every morning Chrollo had the habit of checking his arms, hoping that something had happened during the night, but every time he woke up his skin was always the same and the more time passed the more he began to believe that perhaps he didn't have a soulmate.
He is nine years old when he feels a burning pain creeping up his arm and hand.
For a moment there is only the hot, throbbing pain but then, when he lowers his eyes to check his wound, time seems to stop.
His heart begins to race and he can't help but feel a warm sensation in his lower stomach.
There on his right arm there is an expanse of flowers that have not yet bloomed, a symbol that somewhere in the world his soul mate, the other half of his soul, has just been born.
For as long as he could remember, Chrollo had always dreamed that one day his skin would be adorned with flowers and now that it has finally happened he can't contain his happiness.
Chrollo knows that children of Metor City like him are not allowed to dream of things like soulmates, he knows that for those who are condemned to live among the garbage like him, a soulmate is nothing more than a burden, a weakness to use against him; but despite everything he still allows himself to fantasize and smile.
Then suddenly a thought hits him, will his soulmate ever be able to accept him for who he is?
His soulmate is probably with a loving family, with plenty of food and warm, soft clothes, but he has nothing, dresses in old torn clothes and eats scraps.
His soulmate will go to a nice school and maybe even learn the art of music or painting.
He looks at his hands and finds them full of cuts and calluses, they are the hands of a murderer, of a thief, certainly not those of a child.
He stopped being a child a long time ago.
He looks down at the old, hole-filled sweater he's wearing and realizes that his soulmate was very unlucky to be destined for someone like him.
Despite everything, Chrollo waits for the moment when he will meet his soulmate, waits for the moment when the flowers on his skin will bloom and he will finally be able to taste the most complete happiness.
That night he softly kisses the flowers on her wrist and whispers "I love you" hoping that wherever his soulmate is he can hear it.
Chrollo discovers what having a soulmate entails when he meets Shalnark and Uvogin. They are the perfect example of soul mates; in some cases they are the opposite of each other while in others they are so in tune that Chrollo began to think they could read each other's minds.
Shalnark and Uvogin are very lucky, they found each other very quickly and, being both from Meteor City they had no problems regarding what they had to do to survive in that hell they called home.
Chrollo envied them so much.
It had been years since his mark had appeared and he still hadn't met his soulmate.
At first he had hoped that he might be somewhere in Meteor City, so he had spent his days looking for him without getting any results.
While waiting to find his soulmate, at night, when no one could see him, he began to fantasize.
"What color will his hair be? And what color will his eyes be? Will he want to talk about books with me? Will we be like Shalnark and Uvogin?...-
Even though thoughts about his soulmate made him feel a warm feeling of happiness, he knew, in a corner of his mind that he tried to keep hidden that there was a possibility that they would never meet, or worse, that his soulmate despised him.
-We should take the job! They promised us a lot of money! We could even keep some for ourselves, I heard that their eyes are more beautiful than any ruby, they would make great collector's pieces!-
-Shut up Uvo, it's the danchou who has to decide-
Shalnark said as he tried to silence his soulmate. Uvogin laughed and gave Shalnark a kiss.
Scarlet eyes, Chrollo had never heard of them before some slimy rich guy asked the phantom troupe to bring them to him.
They belonged to a people who lived isolated in the mountains, the Kurta clan; their eyes turned a deep red color when they felt strong emotions.
Scarlet eyes were considered one of the wonders of the world, it was said that they shone brighter than rubies and that the red of their irises was more intense than blood; some believed that their irises were red due to their connection with the devil, others believed that they were proof of their divine descent.
Everyone agreed on one thing, those eyes were beautiful and there were certainly not a few people willing to pay millions to have them.
Chrollo was instantly infatuated.
He tried to imagine that he was holding in his hands that treasure that no man had ever been able to have; he imagined their intense and indescribable color and their beauty which they say leaves you breathless.
From the first moment he saw them he had felt an irrepressible desire to possess them.
He wanted them, he wanted them so much; and he would have them because he always gets what he wants.
-Danchou what do you say?-
He was brought out of his thoughts by Nobugawa.
-Let's get them all-
The air is so thick with the ferrous smell of blood that Chrollo can almost taste it as he makes his way past the destroyed huts and the tortured, eyeless corpses.
In the distance he can hear the agonized cries of those who are not yet dead.
Most of the members of the phantom troupe are in the main square, some were busy counting their loot, others are carefully placing the eyes in jars to prevent them from being damaged during their escape and still others (Feitan) are searching some survivors to have fun with; it is clear that they have found their prey when, in the distance, a loud scream is heard followed by a disgusting snap (a neck being broken probably).
By the time he gets to his target, the boss, his shoes are caked in mud, blood and guts and Chrollo can feel a headache just thinking about how much of a hassle it will be to clean them.
He dips his fingers into the pool of blood that has formed around the lifeless body of the tribal leader and uses it to write a message on the robes of the kurta.
-We took what we wanted, if you come looking for us we will kill you.
P.T -
A few weeks later Chrollo wakes up, even before dawn, in immense pain.
It doesn't take him long to realize that the excruciating pain he is feeling is not physical but emotional.
It's such an overwhelming and oppressive sadness that he feels like he's falling into a gigantic abyss made up only of pain.
He feels as if his soul has been torn to pieces and there is a huge weight on his stomach that doesn't allow him to breathe; he immediately leans forward and tries to catch his breath.
He only realizes he's crying when a tear falls on the back of his hand.
Shortly after the tears come the sobs, Chrollo puts a hand over his mouth not wanting to be heard by the crew.
He can't remember the last time he cried, it's been too long.
Some of his sadness is replaced first by amazement and then by hatred as he realizes that what he is feeling is only a reflection of what his soulmate is feeling.
He gnashes his teeth and clenches his fists in anger, he swears, he swears on everything he knows that he will kill the bastard who made his soulmate feel such pain, he swears that he will make him suffer so much that in the end he will want nothing more without death.
He lies down with the tears that still don't stop falling and the sobs that still shake his body; he lifts his sleeve and gently kisses the flowers on her wrist "Don't cry my love, everything will be okay. When I finally find you I won't let anyone make you suffer any longer"
Chrollo knows that his words cannot have reached his soulmate, but after having uttered his reassurance he feels when the boulder on his chest becomes slightly smaller and he feels overwhelmed by great happiness at the thought that perhaps it was him himself.
Chrollo is not afraid.
Even when the chains wrap around his body and he is dragged away, into the back of a speeding car, he is not afraid.
The beat of his heart remains calm and constant, he has lived surrounded by death since he was a child, the thought of dying does not disturb him in the slightest.
He remains calm even when he senses the chain user's plan to use him as a hostage to blackmail his companions.
The spider is strong, he has faced a thousand difficulties, a thousand opponents, one stronger than the other and they have always been victorious, he knows that they will be able to live without him.
He may be the leader but the user of the chain is a fool if he believes that the spider will let himself be broken by his death.
He has no value as a hostage.
He hopes that his companions do not give in to the demands of the chain user.
He hopes that his companions remain faithful to their promise and put the phantom troupe at the top of their priorities, it is the spider who has to survive, not him.
Chrollo didn't expect the user of the chain to be a woman.
He would never have imagined that Uvogin's killer was so thin, so physically weak; but on reflection, it is precisely its delicate and fragile appearance that makes it so dangerous.
-What do you have to look at?-
-Nothing, I didn't expect you to be a woman-
-Did I say I was? Don't be fooled by appearances. Be careful what you say though, your every word could be your last-
Chrollo raises the corner of his lips slightly in amusement.His captor won't kill him, or at least he won't while his friends are in the hands of the phantom troupe.
-You will not kill me, not with your precious friends prisoners of my spiders-
-I advise you to be silent, I'm not so calm as to ignore your provocations-
-That girl's prediction didn't mention any of this so it's just an insignificant event-
He internally smiles at the irritation and hatred he is making the chain user feel.
It's his way of avenging Uvogin's death.
However, he is not lying when he says that for him this is an insignificant event, he has found himself involved in so many dangerous situations, in so many murder attempts that for him this is nothing more than a normal afternoon.
-Do I have to explain it to you? I consider this situation an afternoon coffee break-
Before he knows it a strong punch is thrown against his face.
The impact is so strong that his head almost hits the glass.
He can taste the ferrous taste of his blood in his mouth, but despite this he continues to smile.
Then suddenly a hot, throbbing pain begins to feel strange on his arm and, the realization of what has just happened leaves him stunned, for a second he feels nothing, he can't move, he can't speak, the only thing he can do and look into the crimson eyes of the chain user, no, the eyes of his soulmate.
Chrollo had long fantasized about how his meeting with his soulmate would happen, but certainly such a scenario had never occurred to him.
As he looks into his soulmate's eyes he sees emotions running across his face, amazement, uncertainty, doubt and finally hatred.
He can't really explain why but the mere idea that his soulmate, Kurapika, hates him makes him feel a deep sensation of pain.
In less than a second Kurapika rolls up their sleeves to reveal their soulmate marks.
Chrollo is entranced by the sight; on her skin, where once there were only small buds, there is now an expanse of wonderful flowers with a color that varies from white to red.
-No! It can not be true!-
Chrollo is jolted out of his thoughts by Kurapika, his voice so low that the words nearly escape him.
He takes his eyes away from the beautiful flowers on his skin and focuses on Kurapika's face.
For the first time he gets a good look at him, his blond hair so shiny it could be mistaken for gold, his lips that seem so soft and tempting Chrollo to kiss them, his long eyelashes and finally his beautiful eyes the color of blood ; as he loses himself in that scarlet glow Chrollo understands why, when he heard about the eyes of the Kurta clan so long ago, he had become infatuated with them and had longed to possess them.
Now those eyes are filled with unshed tears and Chrollo can practically feel his heart sinking into his chest.
Because no matter how ashamed he is, inside he's still the nine-year-old who kissed his soulmate mark and dreamed of the moment he would find the person the universe had decided was perfect for him.
Kurapika regains his composure quickly, sits back, turns his head away and refuses to even glance at Chrollo.
Kurapika continued to avoid him.
Even when he had started to take off his disguise the only thing he had done was force Chrollo to remain facing the wall without saying a single word to him.
- Chain user, you know it's not very polite to ignore your soul mate like this -
-You are not my soulmate!
I would rather die than accept that the universe has decided to destined me for a monster like you-
Throughout the speech Kurapika had kept his gaze fixed in front of him and a calm and constant tone of voice.
A normal person would have been fooled by Kurapika's false cold facade, but he wasn't.
He had immediately noticed all those little signs that showed Kurapika's true emotions; he had noticed how Kurapika's hands were shaking and how his eyes were starting to glaze over with unshed tears.
-Denying the evidence is useless. That feeling I felt when your skin met mine for the first time was something incredible and I know you felt it too. Also when we touched each other for the first time the flowers on our skin bloomed. You can deny the evidence all you want but the reality still remains this-
-When... -
-... -
-When you exterminated the Kurta clan, what did you feel! When you mercilessly killed men, women and children what did you feel! Did you even briefly think about all the pain you would cause, or did you only care about the immense amount of money you would earn? -
With every word he spoke Kurapika seemed to fall apart more and more; at the end of his speech tears had begun to fall freely down Kurapika's face and his voice was broken and full of sobs.
The sight made Chrollo feel an indescribable pain in his heart.
The mere idea that it was he who had made his soulmate suffer like this made him feel immense hatred towards himself.
-I can't say I feel guilty for what I did because it's not like that,... -
Kurapika has his jaw clenched, his fists so tight his knuckles turn white and his nails dug so deep into his palms that Chrollo can see beads of warm blood fall to the floor.
-But I can assure you that if I had known that my actions would hurt you I would not have killed a member of the Kurta clan even under torture -
After hearing those words Kurapika's expression seemed to soften if only for a moment.
-From the first second the soulmate mark appeared on my skin, I fell in love with you. Every night I fantasize, what you would be like, what we would do together, how we would meet; and finally I would kiss the flowers on my wrist and whisper that I loved you. There wasn't a day I didn't hope to meet you, there wasn't a day I didn't love you. When you were grieving, probably from the death of your clan, I tried to console you, I whispered words of comfort to you and hoped that wherever you were you could hear me and you were better. That day I promised myself that I would slowly and painfully kill whoever it was that made you suffer and now finding out that I caused you that pain makes me feel so bad that I want to skin myself with anger-
Tears had now started to fall from Chrollo's eyes too.
Or how he hated himself at that moment.
-If I knew that killing me could make your pain lessen even just a little I would let you do it, I deserve it, but we both know that my death would only make things worse. I won't ask for your forgiveness because what I did to you is unforgivable but if one day you decide to give me a chance I will show you that I am not just the monster who killed your clan-
Chrollo has no idea how it started but now his and Kurapika's lips are sealed together in a kiss.
Their kiss tastes like salt because of the tears and contains all the feelings they are both feeling, pain, anger, regret, hate and finally love.
Their kiss deepens and their tongues move in sync against each other.
Kurapika's hands are wrapped in Chrollo's hair, while Chrollo places his hands on Kurapika's cheeks and catches a stray tear with his finger.
After separating, they stare at each other breathlessly for a few seconds until their moment of intimacy is interrupted by Kurapika's companions who announce Pakunoda's arrival.
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Poker Face 🂱 | Kirby Reed |Charlie Walker
In which Y/N has been with her boyfriend Charlie for a few months, but can’t shake her feelings for her best friend, Kirby Reed. She constantly fantasizes about her when she’s with Charlie.
-ˏˋ WARNINGSˊˎ- light swearing, emotional cheating, feminine pronouns, female anatomy, angst
-ˏˋ Contents ˊˎ- Kirby Reed x reader, Charlie Walker x reader, fantasizing during sex, eating out/oral sex (fem receiving)
Dating Charlie was easy, you rarely argued. He was sweet, considerate, and so happy to have his first serious girlfriend that he did whatever he could to please you. So why was it that you couldn’t seem to get your best friend out of your mind? During dates or nights in with Charlie you’d find your thoughts wandering to Kirby, asking yourself what she might be doing at this very moment. That, you could handle, you figured that much was normal. Not being able to stop your brain from imagining Kirby hovering over you, instead of your own boyfriend is where the problem really began. You knew it was getting to be an internal battle the first night you weren’t able to reach an orgasm until you imagined that it was Kirby’s mouth against your heat.
It was late, around 10:50 and you were laid in Charlie’s bed, legs spread apart, allowing him to skillfully work his mouth on your heat. He’d been at it for maybe 10 minutes, usually you’d have already come undone at 8, but it just wasn’t working tonight. It wasn’t that Charlie was any worse than he usually was, he was actually really good, maybe even better than usual, he’d learned what you liked early on. The reason lied in the guilt that had been slowly eating you alive for weeks. Every time you and Charlie had sex, your thoughts would always circle back to Kirby, imagining her in his place. Of course, you knew it was wrong, but you’d assumed it was just something that would pass, a fleeting moment of curiosity! You were desperately searching for any reason to explain these happenings to yourself, but it didn’t stop, it just progressed further, pushing you to the point you couldn’t even finish without thinking of her. So there you laid, in your boyfriend’s bed, him between your legs truly giving it his all to make you finish. As you sank further down in the bed, you allowed your eyes to drift closed, letting your thoughts shift to your best friend.
She’d walk in, kissing you and laying you down on the bed, helping you strip as she did so. Standing back to admire your frame, she’d strip herself too, it was so sensual when she did it. You’d blush as she got on top of you, trailing kisses all the way down to your throbbing pussy, taking little to no time beginning to lick it. You’d grasp her hair as she licked and sucked in all the right places, peering down at her as she did so. Moaning loudly as you felt a familiar knot tightening in your stomach, when it snapped and your orgasm washed over you, your eyes shot back open.
Holding tightly onto Charlie’s hair you moan, back arching off the bed as he continued to eat you out, assuring you were able to ride out your orgasm. As you slowly released his hair, he finally pulled away from your cunt, looking up at you from between your legs, spit and cum dripping down his chin. When meeting his gaze you felt a familiar pit forming in your stomach and chest, guilt. It only worsened when he wiped his face with the collar of his shirt and leaned up to kiss you, giving you a smile after. “Do you need anything?” He asked you gently, only being met with the shaking of your head. All you could do was pull him into a hug, the both of you laying in bed together, your head on his chest. You did love him and that made this situation all the more troubling for you, eyes almost welling up with tears as your thoughts ran a mile a minute. Charlie said nothing, contently holding onto you, a small smile plastered to his lips oblivious to your near breakdown in his arms. Ignorance is bliss, right?
Part 2
R: Sooooo… I decided to write something short and a little angsty. I had pretty terrible writers block yesterday for some reason so, this is what I’m ending up with. I hope y’all don’t hate it, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled porn with a lil plot soon! Also might delete this idk yet😭
#scream#scream 4#angsty smut#rory culkin#kirby reed#kirby reed x reader#charlie walker smut#charlie walker x you#charlie walker x y/n#scre4m#light angst#angst#culkin cult#rory culkin character x reader#scream4#charlie walker#i ❤️ charlie I’m so sorry#i ❤️ rory culkin
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Can you share your rookvil headcanons with us? (nsfw or whatever you want)
Yessss, another ship that I really wanted to post headcanons about! Thank you so much, Anon, this world needs more Rook/Vil content. I am still amazed that there isn’t as much of it as I expected to be…
Got carried away with some of them, but it’s pretty much usual at this point lol. As always, the first ones are pretty much sfw, but the rest are spicier.
Here they are!
Vil and Rook are either too public or too secretive about their relationships, depending on who you ask. Rook doesn’t mind PDA, but he restrains himself a lot for Vil’s sake, so people who think they are too obvious have no idea just how much worse they could’ve been… Yes, guys, this is Rook restraining himself lol
Vil doesn’t really mind PDA all that much either, and it’s not like he’s trying to hide their relationships, he is just cautious and protective of his private life (that’s what growing up surrounded by paparazzi does to a guy). He also believes that there is a proper time and place for these things, so Rook has no business kissing his neck while he is trying to do his job as a housewarden. Vil is more flirty and playful when they are alone and he is in a good mood though.
They were much more open and reckless when they’d just started dating though, some of the other 3rd year students remember that well. It was much easier to catch them making out back then. Nowadays Vil thinks that that was immature of them, and Rook just shrugs and says something about young love being spontaneous, passionate, full of exploration, chemistry, all this stuff. Guys, you’re still teenagers…
They actually go on dates when they have time for it; and their go-to is usually to go to a theatre and watch a play or an opera or a movie when they’re in a mood for those. They spend a lot of time discussing whatever they’ve watched afterwards. Geeking out about theater is a huge part of their relationship.
Their first time happened when Rook was still a Savanaclaw student. It was during a period of time when he started visiting Pomefiore dorm quite often, so it easily could’ve happened in Vil’s room, but it was still quite spontaneous. They stayed up way past the curfew though, so Rook had to leave through the window.
Vil isn’t too loud during sex, for the most part he’s breathing heavily and only starts making some noise when he’s very aroused. What drives him nuts though is that Rook, who is usually super talkative, suddenly shuts up whenever Vil feels like moaning. Rook is very attentive to Vil’s reactions, so he knows when to listen carefully, and he wants to catch every single sweet sound that Vil is going to make. It goes straight to Rook’s internal audio library~
Rook always makes it seem like he is all about pleasing Vil, but he is kind of a beast and can be quite selfish. One moment he is sweet and gentle, showering Vil’s body with passionate kisses, and then, as he gets really into the whole thing, he starts grabbing Vil’s waist, moving him around the way he wants, squeezing his wrists, leaving lots of marks, moving very intensely. Vil grumbles about it sometimes, but he really doesn’t mind it: Rook’s wild nature was one of the things that made him attracted to him in the first place. Vil also enjoys not being treated like a porcelain doll, and Rook fully takes advantage of that, he knows Vil is very tough and can endure a lot. But if you were to ask Rook about his intimate time with Vil, he’d definitely act coy and imply something about a beautiful dance of love, which is definitely not what’s going on in their bedroom.
Rook has a lot of wild fantasies about Vil, and somehow, after being together for quite some time and doing some of the things he used to fantasize about, he only gets more and more hungry and eager to try more stuff with Vil.
Rook is into oral stuff, Vil – not as much. He allows Rook to do whatever he wants for the most part though, and Rook chooses to eat his butt almost every time they go down that route. Vil does suck Rook’s dick from time to time, but it’s definitely more of a treat than a regular thing.
Rook is very attentive to Vil’s body, he monitors how he’s healing after rough sex, he notices all the tiny unusual details. And he’ll definitely address them. For example, he’ll totally notice if Vil masturbated earlier in the day, because the way his body reacts is completely different from Rook’s perspective. Vil can’t hide anything from this man.
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Blog Intro
Hello, I'm Amos. I'm a bisexual transmasc with a preference towards other trans men/mascs. Trans girls/fems are also lovely and welcome though. I'm 20 yrs old. I'm a switch but I have strong dom lean and prefer subby switches. This blog is mainly for sexual venting. Feel free to send asks with your dirty little thoughts.
Titles/terms I like: Handsome, pretty boy, sir, daddy (in a way very much disconnected from ageplay, which is a kink I'm personally uncomfortable with).
Compliments: I prefer masc and neutral terms but most more feminine terms are fine such as pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, etc. Just don't use any language that's directly misgendering.
Anatomy: I'm comfortable with most terminology in reference to myself, for example dick, tdick, cock, tcock, are preferred but clit is ok. Cunt, boycunt, pussy, boypussy, hole, etc. are fine, plz just don't use vagina. I mainly prefer to not have my chest referenced as anything other than my chest.
A list of my main kinks in no particular order...
Power dynamics. I'm a top-leaning verse and I LOVE bratty subs. I love power struggles, but I also love when subs are very submissive.
Sadomasochism. I am primarily a sadist and I love dealing out pain to masochists who enjoy it, but I also enjoy receiving some forms of pain such as biting, scratching, hair-pulling, and blood-letting.
Blood. I enjoy blood of almost any kind. The taste, look, and smell.
Begging. I love when my sub begs me to do things to them.
Knife play (giving and receiving)
Exhibitionism. Not something I enact, but I do enjoy fantasizing about being caught doing unspeakable things to my partner sometimes.
Edging (giving and receiving)
Choking (giving)
Impact play (giving)
Bondage/rope play (giving and occasionally receiving)
Gagging (giving) Love, love, love watching a boy choke on my strap or my fingers.
Oral fixation (relates to previously mentioned kink lol). Can't resist playing with a pretty boy's mouth.
Praise and degradation (giving)
Teasing (giving and receiving)
Primal Predator/Prey. I love biting and scratching. I enjoy fantasizing about being a were-creature and hunting and injuring/eating my human prey. I ID as therian as a coping mechanism and express my inhuman identity through these fantasies. Obviously I have no intention of enacting this level of harm on anyone irl.
Auditory. I love hearing noises of pleasure and desperation from my sub. Moaning, whining, gasping, you name it.
Now for my DNI list...
Anyone under 18, obviously. Chasers, transphobes, homophobes, racists, ableists, conservatives, anti-choice, anti-xenogender/neopronouns, anti-kin/therian. Pregnancy kink blogs (thoughts of pregnancy cause me extreme dysphoria), blogs fetishizing any kind of bodily fluid/emission other than cum, blood, or piss (I'm not personally into piss but it doesn't bother me), and ageplay blogs.
Cis people! You are allowed to like and rb my posts but pls don't dm or send me asks. I am rarely attracted to cis men and this is primarily a t4t blog. The same goes for people over 30.
#ftm dom#ftm mlm#ftm ns/fw#ftm nsft#ftm t4t#t4t#t4t mlm#blog intro#bd/sm kink#kinkblr#bi t4t#transmasc nsft
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Warrior Nun Ableism
I’ve just watched season 1 of Warrior Nuns and I’m torn.
Because on one hand, as a bisexual woman and POC, I appreciate the great representation on the show. I love that the main character is openly bisexual and has two love interests who are male and female. I love that we have a lesbian nun. I love even more that the relationship between Ava and Beatrice is not rushed, but instead well developed giving the characters depth and time to get to know each other. I love that the women on this show are each given their own storyline, are allowed to be complex and flawed while having strong bonds between them. I also love that their fighting outfits are not sexualizing them.
On the other hand, I was deeply bothered by the ableism. To give you some context, I grew up with a disabled father. Like Ava, he was quadriplegic. Unlike her, he was disabled from the moment he was born. My father was born in 1948, at a time when there was even less disability awareness than now and fewer (if any) institutions where a disabled child could study, let alone receive the medical care they needed. Like Ava, he was raised in an institution run by nuns. This particular establishment housed kids recovering from tuberculosis and other disabled children. I will say in my grandparents’ defense that they did not abandon him. They visited him regularly and it was simply the best solution they could find at the time for their son to receive an education while receiving medical assistance.
My father grew up to be an activist for disabled people rights and I grew up surrounded by disabled people. We have had many discussions over the years about the representation of disabled people in the media.
I still remember being in drama school when I was 20, about 15 years ago now, and explaining to one of my teachers, who thought that Avatar was the best thing since Star Wars, why I had hated the movie. We were in the common room, all of us were eating lunch, and it suddenly got very quiet as I gave a very passionate speech about ableism (and that’s without mentioning the white savior complex, but that’s another topic). What was my normal, something that to me was obvious, glaring, and evident and rage inducing was so foreign to them. Everyone looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. This was when I first realized how uninformed the vast majority of people are about ableism. I should perhaps add at this point that I grew up in France, in what is (in large part thanks to my father’s efforts) one the most accessible cities in Europe. Even if they were not in my father’s circle of friends, it was a very common thing to see disabled people in the streets or in public transport, or pretty much anywhere else in the city.
I find the language used in Warrior Nun extremely alarming. It shows a devastating lack of awareness about the underlying ideas it conveys and the damaging stereotypes it perpetuates. “She was already in hell”, or “She was already broken”. It reinforces the idea that disabled people are not whole, that being disabled will never let them live a happy fulfilling life. Yes, it comes from a character who is clearly ableist herself. But it’s chilling that the first line of the show is Ava talking about how her whole life she’s fantasized about dying. Major red flags.
Again, it is true that disabled people can struggle with mental health, and that they can have suicidal thoughts in direct relation to their disability. If I want to be generous (but I honestly don’t think that the creators of the show put that much thought into it), I could even say that it would make sense for Ava to have these thoughts when she was raised by abusive ableist people who probably told her every day of her life that she was broken and that she would have been better off if she’d died with her mum. The show had an opportunity to explore the theme of abuse of disabled people by the people who are supposed to care for them, unfortunately, like most things that have to do with Ava’s disability, it never went anywhere.
And there’s a reason for that. If you ask me, the show’s creators never really had any intention of giving Ava’s disability much spotlight. Or of creating a disabled character at all. Her disability was merely a plot device for them.
Which leads me to the big, the bad and ugly, the “magical healing”.
Rosie Knight on Nerdist said it better than I could.
“Stories shape the world around us and Warrior Nun, Batgirl, Venom, and The Witcher (which features a magical disability cure which also makes a lady sexy, as if disabled people aren’t and don’t have fulfilling sex lives) play into harmful narratives. All of these tales enforce dangerous tropes: that disabled people don’t have any quality of life, that we don’t have sex, that all we want is to become able-bodied, and, most horrifyingly of all, that we’d rather be dead than to live as our authentic disabled selves.”
Here is the link if you want to read the full article (which I encourage you to do).
https://nerdist.com/article/warrior-nun-magical-disability-cure/
Dear content creators, please don’t make a character disabled just to give them something to “overcome” and then have it play next to no part in their story as soon as they are “magically healed”. That’s not good representation. That’s poor storytelling. That’s exploitative, gratuitous, and contributes to perpetuate harmful stereotypes about minorities.
Please, do better.
EDIT: I am still figuring out how tumblr works and can’t manage to reply to the comments in the comment section. This is a reply to Sorrynotsorrow.
Inviting people to think a bit more deeply about the reasons why the shows they watch and enjoy might be problematic is precisely the point of this type of post. They discuss the ways minorities are represented in shows and aim to raise awareness about how the ways said minorities are represented in the media are harmful when that is the case.
I am aware that some of the people reading this may never have talked to a disabled person about what their reality is like, may never even have met one. This post is asking you to do something that might not be comfortable. It’s asking you to take a minute to think about something you may never have spent much time pondering in your life, to look beyond the enjoyability factor of a show, beyond the thematics, to challenge your views and educate yourself about realities that are different from yours. It’s asking you to be aware.
Any show, even a show that has strong supernatural elements like this one, is a reflection of their creator’s views of the world, influenced by their beliefs, cultural and socio-economic background, including their blind spots and prejudices.
A story is never just a story.
There is a difference between the thematic arcs of a show and representation. These are two different topics.
You are quite right in saying that loneliness and a lack of freedom are some of the big themes that are explored in Ava’s story. In terms of characterization, the way they have linked it to her disability, death and rebirth makes sense, yes.
But that doesn’t mean that the way they wrote about her disability was great representation (for all the reasons that I’ve explained).
From what I have read though, they have received a lot of messages about this topic and have expressed a desire to do better in season 2.
EDIT 2:
LOL, Their idea of better representation is to completely erase the fact that Ava was once disabled.
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good evening, puppy.
have you missed me? some selfish part of my brain hopes you have. i’m not feeling very eloquent tonight, but i have been missing you. i despise being busy, unable to check in on my most favorite, most handsome little pup.
i promise, once i have some time to myself, i will properly write out the sort of prose you’re used to from me. for now, just know i have been tired so often, so terribly worn out.
if only i had a puppy to greet me as i walked through the door, to cuddle with me at night, to sit at my feet as i do paperwork, to lap at my wetness, holding my t-cock in his pretty mouth as i type…
if only.
anywho, i miss you dearly. i saw the tags on one of your posts that you enjoy orders, so, here are some from me.
1. do a few exercises. push ups, sit ups, your traditional workout. make sure you wear yourself out — after all, puppies have so much energy, and you must release it all.
2. after you exercise, take a nice, warm shower. imagine it is my hands rubbing the soap into your skin, my fingers shampooing your hair. allow yourself to be cleansed, and to be good.
3. if you have one, wear a collar to bed. i always adore dogs with proper marks of ownership, especially cute ones like yourself. if it helps you at all, imagine me pulling you in by your collar for a kiss. (i believe i may be fantasizing a bit more than necessary. hehe.)
4. go to bed by a decent time — but, no touching yourself. you must go to bed needy and desperate, not allowed to put your paws on yourself, if only because i do not allow it. i know this part will be especially hard for someone like you, but i know you can do it. you will do it, because i command it.
i hope those instructions aren’t too complicated for your little puppy brain. i know you’ll make me proud, jasper. <3
- yours truly and always, lavender.
Bark bark bark hi!!! :33
it’s been busy over here too. In the moments where I’ve been able to pause, you do seem to cross my mind..
I’m so sorry I can’t be there to excitedly greet you as you walk in the door after a long day lavender. Run up and give you puppy kisses, you’d most likely have to tell me settle and try and get me to sit. I’d have dinner ready to go as you got in, and after we eat I’d curl up next to you, and if you’d let me I’d roll onto my back and put my head on your lap, begging for pets.
Sit me under your desk as the night winds down, place my head between your thighs, right where I belong. After a long day apart I’d probably do that instinctively anyways, wag wag wag. holding you so delicately in my mouth while you type away, having my tongue right underneath your dick… woooof. I’m getting puppy brained just thinking about it.
Arrrrf arf I can and will definitely be following your orders- wag wag wagging my butt at getting all my energy out and exercising for you. I have no collar at the moment, but I do have a belt or a bandana that I quite often use in place of one. It will be hard, keeping my paws off myself at the thought of you, but for you I will do it. Perfectly.
#jasperbarks#asks#lavender anon#so glad I saw this this morning so I have alllll day to obey#wooooof woof woof#barking#wagging wagging wagging
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I found a video about "limerence" and attachment issues. (Very long).
I think some of the anxious preoccupied parts are stuck in limerence. It's helping me to see a bit more clearly what's happening, like how it's not grounded in the present (unfortunately, I have to think about that stupid childhood again).
I recognize wanting to find a home in another person - desperately wanting to feel welcome. I recognize fantasizing about rescue and idealizing people. I did that a bunch as a child. I recognize the deficit of connection. Also a deficit of being cuddled and touched.
I have to untie this from romantic love. Honestly, I have no idea if I'm capable of romantic love. Is there anything in me beyond the longing for an attachment figure? I doubt it.
Unfortunately the "ways to work on limerence" don't seem very inviting. Daily affirmations and daily rituals. I know the weekly yoga is a good thing right now. I know the daily cuddles with plushies are good. I know spending time with parts is also helpful over time. Plus finding words for things, finding step-by-step explanations and guides. Like when my T borrowed me the deck of cards with words for needs, I finally had possible answers for ("what do you need?") and that helped so much. I think my next step is going to be more journalling. The Courage to Heal has journal prompts (it is a scary book I haven't read yet, but it does sit on my shelf), and I really like the journal prompts from Unmasking Autism. They are often more about strengths and other good things.
"Little me", to summarize the cluster of super young parts, is highly emotionally volatile. It's such a wounded and dysregulated little person. So desperate and vulnerable. About age 0 - 3. When the world is a chaotic world in which you're very much powerless. I idealize(d) my mum a lot, because she responds to the anxious preoccupied-ness with her own anxious preoccupied-ness. It's ironic, because I WAS clearly the apple of her eye. No neglect there. Just neglect because she was so struck with trauma, grief and dissociation herself. Our bond was very intense. I was allowed to be my full neurodivergent self. She accepted my picky eating, my sensory avoidance and sensory seeking, my open and curious look at the world, my incessant talking (way too much), my intense focus, my need for quiet and structure. She couldn't soothe my strong emotions, but she was there for me in many other ways. Like stroking my back every night. It's just that I wasn't allowed to step out of that connection either. I had to stay close to her intenseness, or she would freak out. Even while staying close she freaked out a lot, because she was very traumatized. I was really scared of upsetting her, because her upset would be like the whole world turning dark and even more scary.
My limerence is maybe thinking back to those times I *did* feel fully accepted. When life was calm and my mum was happy.
The scary things that happened were way beyond my comprehension. The fights. Losing my siblings. Being abandoned (left with the other parent), where suddenly everything would be different and I would be scolded for not knowing what to do. I was so scared. My dad has opened up a bit more about his experience of my early childhood and he said that I was unhappy most of the time, very upset. He said that my second birthday was one of the few happy days he remembers. That was right before he and my mum split up for good, although they already split up and got back together a few times before that.
I don't remember that day, of course. But I remember other birthdays and days, and I know I was happy whenever my mum would be happy. She loved being away in our cabin, so I have a lot of good memories there. She loved Easter, so that feels like a safe holiday.
My dad said he didn't "fight for me", because he was too scared of my mum. She is very manipulative and proud of it. She still is.
But she did make me the apple of her eye and when I was with my dad I lost all of that. I lost anyone capable of taking my needs into account in any way. So I longed for my mother. And I weeped and wailed, alone on the carpet. No one to comfort and no one to care.
My dad said I needed a lot of constant attention and I was very clingy. But my mum could leave me to play for myself for 4 hours at a time. It was a matter of feeling unsafe.
And I hate that it still affects me even now.
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for funsies i did the nsfw alphabet for michael so here you go michael enjoyers skmskms
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
needs his lover to dote on him and comfort him and compliment him for how good he did/how well he took it. needs kisses and cuddles, and once he’s able to stand and move, needs a nice warm bath to soothe him
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he loves his own chest and thighs, he knows he looks good all muscled and attractive. For his partner, he also likes their thighs, loves to kiss and nip at someone’s thighs/legs to excite them
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Loves it when his partner cums inside him, feeling so full, and the sensation of it leaking out of him. Now- for him it takes an immense amount of trust and love in his partner, but if he does love them, and he’s pushed down far enough into subspace, he’ll lick and eat his own cum in order to clean himself up
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves being roughed up and manhandled, spanked and bruised, hair pulled and scratched, bitten and made to bleed. He also fantasizes about being bred and having a child.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s experienced. He knows what he likes and what he wants
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
LOVES LOVES LOVES being pinned face down ass up. shove his face right into the pillows and go to town on his ass. He also does like missionary, being on the bottom though.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He’s serious. I dont know how goofy he could be when he’s too busy being pounded senseless 🥴
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He has no pubic hair, not because he trims it or anything, it just doesn’t grow there for whatever reason. He doesn’t have much body hair aside from the hair on his head/eyebrows/ lashes
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Very intimate if thats the way you want to go with him. Will lovingly undress his partner, kiss up their skin, worship their body.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t do it. Just doesn’t. He doesn’t feel the need to do it, and most likely loves having a rule implemented for himself that he’s not allowed. He may do it to rile someone up so he could get punished, or if commanded to jerk himself off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He’s extremely kinky. Loves impact play, has a praise kink AND a degradation kink. Huge masochist. Breath play.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Loves the good ol bedroom. enjoys up against walls, or on the floor too.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He’ll just randomly feel the urge to be submissive, may strip in front of his partner to get them going, or wear something saucy and alluring like lingerie or a maid outfit
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He Will Not Dom Or Top He doesn’t like it, its so out of his nature. He’ll be a power bottom, but he doesn’t like being the cruel one, he much prefers subbing over domming, bottoming over topping. If you ask him to top you, he will say No.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
LOVES TO GIVE ORAL MORE THAN RECEIVE IT. He loves servicing his partner, getting on his knees, looking up at them as he takes them into his mouth, getting pleasure out of giving oral.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Loves a fast and rough pace, will cry and beg for his partner to fuck him hard
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not a fan, much prefers long drawn out sex, but he won’t say no if his partner wants to suddenly pull him into a secluded area away from others, pin him against a wall or bend him over something, hike his robe up, and pound his ass, then when his partner is finished, be left with their cum leaking down his legs and act as if nothing happened.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Oh he loves to experiment. Loves trying things out with his partner. As long as it isn’t incredibly dangerous.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He’s an angel. The archangel fucking Michael. He has an incredible amount of stamina and if his partner does too, he can GO AND GO AND GO AND GO AND GO- Loves going on for HOURS, to be sufficiently USED.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He prefers his partner fucking him, but would love his partner using toys on him, or made to fuck himself with a toy of some sort if told to.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
he lovessssss being teaseddddd. he says he doesn’t but ofc he does. Being denied, told “no sweet boy you’re not allowed to cum yet!” loves being touched and fondled.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
HES VERY NOISY. will moan and whine and beg so loudly, whimpers a lot too.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
As much of a slut he is, he only acts that way around people he genuinely loves and trusts, SO IF YOU WANT ANGEL HOLE, YOU NEED ANGEL HEART... He also is a huge size queen lol.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s pretty average dick wise, not much to say.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
its high when he’s in a relationship, low when he’s not.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If its just a couple rounds, he can easily get back up and continue with his day like nothing happened, if he’s been thoroughly used and all his energy depleted, he’ll conk the fuck out. ACTUALLY LIKES BEING FUCKED SO GOOD HE PASSES OUT SO YKNOW. THE GOAL TO GET TO.
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Pokemon Scarlet and Violet Review
Warning. Spoilers.
I really wanted this game to be brilliant and in many ways it is. But in so many other ways, it really falls on its face and I think will do lasting harm to the Pokemon franchise.
First, the positives. Many of the new Pokemon designs are wonderful and fun. The world is flavorful, often very bright and colorful and feels like it should full of life and excitement. The open world is novel and allows you to explore, but I think it also ultimately hurts the game as well.
Tera battles are great. They work great, they take less time as you have a somewhat real time action system to them. I do find it frustrating that in higher raids, my menus are interrupted by the boss and because of the performance issues of the games, it feels like it lags when getting me back to picking my moves. But the Tera system is more interesting than I expected and adds a level of thinking - sometimes in gym battles even - that is very refreshing.
There are three plot line. Pokemon did a very smart thing by keeping the three plot lines very small in scope and scale, allowing them to be very personal and human. The titan plot line and Arven is a very relatable touching story of a person who really wants to help heal their beloved friend. It is so very human and relatable, something that Pokemon needs to do more of. While I don’t think it is as good as Sun and Moon, mainly because SM tackled a much heavier and important topic, it still comes off well and well told. It’s a very predictable story line that isn’t that surprising but it doesn’t need to be. It would have been nice to have had a few twists and turns, but the growth arc for Arven is solid.
The second plot line is the gym plot line This is really a very standard gym story line and doesn’t really tell much of a story. This is too bad because it is the one story line that is entirely about you and your choices. While Nemona is there to push you along a little, it’s really up to you and your choices how to approach the gyms. The new gym leaders are fun but ultimately not a huge part of the world like in most Pokemon games. You only seem to run into them in their one function and they do their dance and you move on. That said, Larry is the greatest thing they’ve done for a gym leader in a while. It’s also interesting that the gym leaders all seem to have a more fulfilling job outside of gym battles which felt a little odd to me. I really wish Pokemon would make the gym story lines more engaging and interesting. I think it would be more interesting for a region to have an additional reason to be going after the gyms that isn’t just to get the badge. Some other plot line or mystery that told through interacting with the gyms and their leaders.
However, they decided to do this with the Team Star plot line This is probably the goofiest plot line to me. While bullying is a huge topic and important, they don’t really address the actual ramifications of people who have dealt with bullying. Instead they have this weird thread that Team Star got kicked out for standing up for themselves and were labeled the villains because the real bullies all left. And then the entire teaching staff and director RESIGN from the school and someone deletes the records about what actually happened. The only believable thing here is that someone deleted the records for a cover-up. Otherwise, it really feels like that kid who fantasized about how sorry everyone will be when they go blind from having to eat their vegetables. The true identity of Cassiopeia is so easily guessed that it isn’t worth talking about. The Team Star designs are incredible and they are memorable characters, but their whole deal is so trope laden and silly that I couldn’t take them very seriously. That said, once again, they kept the story small and about human beings and not world ending issues, so it works. It’s enjoyable albeit completely silly. The message of finding and standing with your friends is nice but definitely not new ground. My main issues is that again, this story isn’t really about my character, it’s about Cassiopeia and Team Star. I’m just the vehicle to push things forward.
The end game in Area Zero is an excellent way to pull everyone together and while the plot line is once again world level stakes, Pokemon remembers to keep it human and grounded so it works really well. The connection with Arven and the professor is heartfelt and sad. Ultimately though, I would like them to make these plot line more about me as a main character. The ending emotion is about Arven.
Now the big thing is that the game runs very poorly. It’s even worse if you are online with friends. The camera is janky, there are bugs everywhere. The game runs like it is in mud. This is unacceptable from this big of a company, and if I wasn’t such a huge fan, I would have put the game away long ago. The open world concept is fine but I think the open region aspect of Arceus serves the series and the franchise better and could help eliminate so many of the sluggish issues that the game displays. The open world feel also just ends when you are in towns. They feel like shallow set pieces with their fake store fronts and few people. The people who are there move so oddly because of the frame rate, that all the towns tend to feel out of place and wrong most of the time I’m in them. They scattered the plots and gyms about with poor sign posting of where to go. They game doesn’t really give you much in the way of level ideas for where you are in the game which can lead to some very frustrating moments as you are burning through items to stay alive. Items that can be hard to come by because money is hard to come by. If you aren’t constantly exploring and trying to find trainers to fight who you can’t see until you are literally right on top of them, you can feel super cash strapped for a lot of the game.
Without the many trainers in the world like we had in Sword and Shield, the game feels empty of other human life. It’s a big, empty space that is thankfully full of Pokemon.
Frustratingly, I can’t say that non super fans should pick up and play Scarlet and Violet. It doesn’t break enough new ground to feel revolutionary and the game play issues are laughably bad. Those of us invested in Pokemon can look past it and have a ton of fun. I don’t think anyone else should have to do that. The games should just work.
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