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#the way I cry when I watch this just about every time it evokes so much emotion + the animation is just beautiful
anyataylorjoys · 5 months
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POCAHONTAS (1995) dir. Mike Gabriel and Eric Goldberg 
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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months
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G & T for Dick please? Congrats on 1k!
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Warnings: SFW, gen yandere behaviour, suicide mention, dick's kind of pathetic lmfao, I don't know what a paragraph break is <3
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G = Game (Is Every Move Meticulously Orchestrated, Turning the Pursuit Into a Twisted Game? Do They Derive Pleasure From Watching Their Darling Attempt Escape?):
Dick: One thing you have to get about Dick is that he takes everything with you very seriously. Like, obviously he’s joking around (the sight of your laughing face is etched into his brain with a hammer) but he considers your relationship very important, that it requires a lot of care. He doesn’t think it’s a game. He doesn’t think you’re a game. But, he does probably… definitely puts too much thought into your every little interaction. He’s a thinker. He’s always going over your interactions, wondering if you would’ve found A) joke funnier or if B) joke was the way to go. He chooses when to flirt, when to push, when to pull back when it’s needed too. And it’s all subconscious. He’s not even really aware that he thinks of your relationship the same way he thinks about missions, about fights. And also, he finds the idea of wanting to ‘escape’ him heart-wrenching. He’s desperate to be seen in a good light by you, desperate to be likable, lovable. And you disliked him so much you ran away? He probably tries to stay away after you do. He manages for a little while until he eventually appears on your doorstep begging you to take him back. And if you say no, he only gets more desperate. This is about where you see Dick go fully mad trying to appease you. Where you’ll see himself throw himself at you again and again, trying to see what sticks. He really will just keep trying. About till he drops dead from his own unbearable yearning, cause he’s dramatic like that.
T = Tears (Does the Sight of Their Darling's Suffering Evoke a Twisted Pleasure, a Morbid Satisfaction Reinforcing Their Control?):
Dick: Oh, you’re crying. Oh. You. Are. Crying. Instant breakdown. This is literally his worst nightmare. He wants you happy, and unless your tears are from joy or pleasure, he will probably actually kill himself. No, no, he’ll just want to do it really bad, but he has to make it up to you. Right then and there, through his own tears, he’s asking how he can fix it, what he needs to do to make it up to you. Now if you told him to kill himself, he’d probably do it then. Absolutely anything to make sure you’re smiling again. If you are kind enough not to immediately ask him to commit honourable suicide, he will spend the rest of his life making it up to you. Anytime you want anything from him, even hinting at the time you cried has him ready to go to the ends of earth for you again. Just, god, please don’t start crying again. He thinks he’ll have a heart attack. He also thinks he’d deserve it, though.
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tojisun · 11 months
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thinking about the way jake mates you :((
the way he just folds you in half, covering you with his bigger body, overwhelming you with all of him – his scent, his weight, his warmth.
the way his hands, five fingers and all, pry your thighs apart so he can dip his head and lick your dripping cunt. you learned the word from jake, his voice curling into something deep and animalistic when he first ate you out.
the alien word was new, vulgar, outright dirty, but every time jake whispers it – "your cunt loves me, doesn't it, sweetheart?" – you could feel the way it riles him up more than it makes your toes curl. you feel it in the way he throbs inside you, his lips pulled into a snarl, and amidst glassy eyes you watch the way he flushes, losing himself in the throes of pleasure. 
pleasure evoked by mating you.
jake is so deliciously big.
the way his belly presses onto your back whenever he fucks you on your knees, a hand wrapped around your chest and the other pressing on your belly. the position was not usual, but not nearly foreign, and you found yourself putty in his arms as he contorted your body, measured whispers rolling off his lips, praising you, telling you how beautiful you look like this, presented all for him.
“can you feel me here, baby?” he purrs, his breath is warm as it tickles your ears. “i’m deep inside you, aren’t i?” 
your voice hitches, unable to reply to him well. jake chuckles anyway, like he expected your incoherence, almost even wanting to hear you be reduced to only keens and muffled whines.  
“y’r taking me so good, sweetheart,” jake murmurs, before pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 
you whimper, a choked moan falling from your lips as jake slides his cock out again, the length of it dragging along your plush walls. it is so heavy and hard, filling you to the brim as if he wants to carve himself into your very being. your eyes are wet with unshed tears, and your body trembles at how full you feel.
“jake!” you squeal, your voice squeaking into a high pitch when he pushes his cock back inside you again.
your arms buckle, threatening to collapse at the increasing pleasure rising through your being. it is only jake’s hold that prevents you from crashing to the floor, keeping you up at the perfect angle to sink his cock into. 
“i know, sweetheart,” jake croons, fucking you with a relentless pace, his body warm around you. in you. “just few more, okay? you could do it, can’t you baby girl?”
you don’t recall ever nodding or doing anything to respond to him, feeling your toes curl as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cunt spasming around jake’s cock.
“fuck, baby!” jake hisses, his pleasure curling into his words, his voice sounding so close yet so warbled and far away. “cum with me, sweetheart. with me.”
and just like that your pleasure tilts, expanding, before euphoric ecstasy crashes into you as you cum, your orgasm ripping a shrill cry from your throat. 
“m’jake!” you scream, your back arching and your ears flattening on your head, your tail thrashing as the base of it thrums with a muted pain from being squished between jake’s bigger body and your back. 
“jus’ like that, baby,” jake grunts, his face pressed on the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. “fuck, y’r so good, so perfect. my perfect mate, aren’t you baby? mine, yeah?”
you hum, you think. or you nod – you don’t even know, feeling yourself floating, engulfed with the overwhelming pleasure that only jake can coax out of you. 
your uncoordinated response doesn’t matter to jake, feeling him chuckle amidst his panting, his tongue licking a stripe on your neck. 
“yeah,” he whispers, almost like he is talking to himself. “my perfect mate, alright.”
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gojosmovingcastle · 23 days
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why do you cry - g. suguru
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☄. *. ☄⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚⋆☄. *. ☄☄. *. ☄⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚⋆☄. *. ☄
Suguru stood in front of the most beautiful girl in the world, not ready to deliver her the unfortunate news. But, he couldn't stand the possibility of him almost hurting her. 
He fell onto his knees next to her reading nook where she was curled up in the blanket he had bought her their last trip to Shibuya. She looked at him with a funny smile - something he would engrave in his memory forever. She set her book down on the window ledge and pushed the hair that fell around his face. 
"What are you doing, sugar? Going to serenade me again?" Her heavenly giggle left her lips making this all the harder for him. He wanted her to tell him what he should say, how he should approach this. He wanted to hold her shoulders while looking at her with disparity and whisper "What can I say to make you see that this is the only way?"
"This isn't your fault"
"I promise, pretty, I'm not like the others."
"I never wanted this to happen." 
"I never wanted to leave you - but I have to."
"I will see you at every corner too."
Tell me how to evoke this empathy...please, Y/n, I can't do this. I'm drowning.
He knew if he didn't do this danger would follow her everywhere. Every time he was near here she was prey to his chaos. "Suguru, what's wrong?" She broke his thought process, her worried voice making him look up and catch her questioning eyes. He wanted to lose himself in them and let his tired mind be led home just one last time.  
"Pretty," he started laying his hand on her warm one, bringing her knuckles to his lips one last time. Closing his eyes he stayed there for a second, memorizing the texture of her skin on his lips.
When he eventually opened his eyes he saw her sad ones looking back at him. So much worry was behind her pooling eyes, he could see it before he felt it. Her free hand rested on his shoulder, making him double over and pull her down to his aching body. Slowly he felt her unsure shaking hand rubbed circles on his back. He was sure if she didn't already knew the low plausibility of him having panic attacks she would have assumed so and held him close. Something he couldn't take right now, something that would truly and completely end his damned life.
" Darling, you know what I feel for you," he started making her looked even more confused as she leaned back and nodded. "Of course, Suguru, you remind me every day," she smiled making a tearless cry leave his lips. "Is that was this is about, you didn't think I knew you loved me, silly?" Her fingers ran through his long black hair, brushing it back out of his face. She left her hand on his cold cheek making it burn his skin, but he didn't pull away believing he deserved the pain.
"No, Y/n, I have to," he stopped when he caught her eyes again. He could see everything he ever wanted in them, and he was slowly lighting the match that would burn it all to the ground. He had convinced himself that this is how it would always be so long ago, which is why was it so hard to leave her now?
Why was he so selfish to love her knowing he would eventually have to leave her? 
Why did he have to hurt her?
"Whatever it is Suguru, I can help," she said pulling his arm a little to pull him into her lap, but he didn't budge. He couldn't do that to himself, he couldn't do that to her. "Baby, we can do it together, just tell me what's going on," she spoke softly when he wouldn't move. His chest ached so much he would have sworn he had been brought back to life, just for it to be ripped out by his himself.
"I have to go," he whispered looking at his hands with eyes that wanted to cry so badly. "I have to leave," he watched her shaky hand intertwine with him, making a sob leave his lips.
Why were his cheeks so dry? Why were his eyes still white and not red? 
"I have to leave before I hurt you too."
He heard her shortening breath, but he couldn't bring himself to look up at her. He was a coward. "What do you mean?" Her breath quivered, and she pulled his hand to her chest desperate for him to look at her. "Is this because of what happened with Satoru and the Star Vessel?" Her voice cracked and he started to shake his head but then nodded, "I can't control myself, and if I can't control myself I might hurt you." He continued to stare at the floor, aching with both his and her heartbreak. 
"Suguru, you told me yourself that it's different around me," she desperately tried to reason, "I'll be okay. It was an accident, we can work on it. You don't have to leave." She cried out, and he finally looked up at her. Her once e/c eyes were now dark and glossy. Her cheeks were red and her nose was scrunching each time she tried to study her breath.
He wanted to hold her and tell her it was all a cruel joke, that he wasn't leaving, that he wouldn't hurt her as everyone else did. He wanted to feel her in his arms again, he wanted to feel her happiness again. "No, Y/n, I can't risk it, I can't risk you." He felt her grip tightening around his hand, her eyes widened with frantic thoughts running behind them, "I can go with you, we can do this together. Just like we did everything else, I promise." She cried, her arms and legs shaking now when she moved them. "Please," her sob cut through him like a dagger, and each one after embedded it deeper and deeper.
"Y/n, I have to do this." You have to do this. The village's screams and his own voice rang through his thoughts again and again. He couldn't hurt her, and this was the only way he could keep her safe. He couldn't be the reason for her death, he couldn't trust himself anymore. He loved her.
He loved her.
He loved her, so much.
"No, Suguru, please," she gasped between her breaths trying to keep herself together. She knew it wasn't something she had done, but deep down how could she not blame herself?
What had she done? 
"I'm sorry," his voice was so quiet that she barely heard them over her cries. "Suguru, please don't go," her throat started to tighten as she held back her sobs, trying to think of anything to keep him here. "Please, Y/n, please, I have to keep you safe." His cold touch on her arm burned, but she didn't move away in fear of it being his last touch. "But, you do keep me safe. Don't you see that?" She cried out, he had to know that it wasn't his fault. He had to know it would all be okay.
But it's not okay.
She watched Suguru's head shake, disagreeing with her. "No," his voice was firm but she could hear the uneasiness deep in his throat. "Stay with me, please," she spits out desperately, "you said you'd always stay with me." She heard a desperate please leave his lips. 
"I have to leave," he choked out again, standing up on shaky legs. She reached and grasped the end of his jacket, pulling it so he would come back down. When he wouldn't budge she felt hopeless, "Suguru," she sobbed out as he picked her up and laid her back on her reading nook. "Please, I love you."
She loved him.
She loved him, so much.
Kissing her temple he took away as much of her pain as he could, before letting go of her arms. He couldn't leave her on the floor. He needed her to know he still cared, and this wasn't her fault. He needed her to know he loved her, and that was the most selfish part.
He loved her.
He loved her, so much.
"Goodbye, Y/n." She heard him whisper, a light cold prick hit her forehead making her reach out, trying to pull him in, but she fell to the floor. He was gone, faster than she could stop him, faster than she could think of what to say to keep him here. 
Y/n screamed, hugging herself tightly while sobbing. She started to lightly hit the ground with her fist, "don't leave, don't leave, don't leave." She sobbed over and over again like a mantra. The highlight reel Suguru once taped up and put on a high shelf in her mind fell, and its contents spilled out. 
Projectors displayed around her, playing back all the nightmares on full volume. Her present screams were drowned out by her four-year-old screaming on the right and her father shouting on the left. 
Don't leave.
Don't leave.
Don't leave.
The movies all ended, the film ends singed and burned around her - suffocating her in the small room. She was screaming for help, for someone to help her, someone to care, someone to stay. Her eyes were red and screaming as she ran her hands and nails across them, just as she would when she did something wrong as a child.
Her walls were coming down, and the one person who helped her feel again wasn't there to catch her. 
She couldn't breathe.
And, just as Apollo shielded her from her own darkness in his loving light, he took it away. As he delivered her medicine each day through his touch, he left her with an empty bottle that she couldn't refill. He lived up to both his healing and diseased name, delivering both to the small soul of Daphne without warning. 
And now the shining light of the sun was dipped in the Okeanos trailing black night across the grain-giving land.
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tulipsforvin · 6 months
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“A Heartfelt Meal„
William J. Moriarty x GN!Reader
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╰┈⪼ ୨ Finally reunited with you after three years of William's dissapearance, the two of you share a meal; evoking a flurry of emotions & vulnerability from his side. ୧
╰┈⪼ ୨ Fluff + angst I guess + divider by bunnysrph ୧
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The walls were adorned with memories of the two in the form of framed photographs; capturing cherished moments that had been put on pause for three consecutive years since William's initial dissapearance.
You'd never expect to bring your lost love back home — especially not alive. You were half certain that the next time you would finally, finally be able to hold his body was when you'd find him dead; limp, cold and lifeless.
Every single day during these three years, your hopes of William's survival had began to flicker and dim to almost nothingness.
And yet, this afternoon he sat right across you, watching you as you finished cooking in silence. His eyes would occasionally travel to different areas of the dining room and to your facial features — wondering what changes occured after his fall at the Tower Bridge.
You'd been rambling on and on about all kinds of topic for some time now. William listened to you in patience, nodding his head with your words. He reaches over and strokes his thumb over your upper lip, wiping away at the foam of coffee you were just drinking.
“You've grown.. inexperienced in feeling at homely ease, (Name)” He says slowly. “You don't need to go on and on just to fill the silence at the table.”
It was awkward - suddenly meeting after three years and you didn't want to make things uncomfortable for William, which is why you'd resorted to babbling all kinds of nonsense in the first place. You clear your throat, looking away in embarassment.
“Sorry.” You mumble.
He laughs warmly, shaking his head in response. “No, no. You needn't apologise.”
William inhales deeply as you set a plate down for the each of you, the tantalising smell of a homely cooked meal wafting through the air.
“That smells good.” He compliments you.
You give him a small grin, seeming proud of yourself. “Really? Thank you. I tried.”
You rest your elbow on the table, placing your chin on the palm. Your fingertips tap lazily on your cheekbone as you watch William.
“Go on, Liam.” You say, smiling. “Dig in.”
“And you won't?” He asks slowly, picking up his cutlery. He raises an curious eyebrow as he gazes back at you, looking over your face.
“I will, but I want you to tell me how it tastes first.”
He hums softly. “Alright, then.”
You watch as he puts a spoonful of the meal you cooked for the two of you into his mouth. As the taste envelopes him, William's eyes widen and he sets down his utensils.
Complete silence fills the room as he looks down at the table, his expression a mix of surprise and overwhelming emotions.
Your own eyes widen in shock as you watch a droplet of tear fall down onto his plate. You jolt up from your chair in a flurry of panic.
“William?! Oh my god, did I mess up the seasoning? Too spicy? Too salty? I was trying a new recipe and I thought it was- I thought I could hit it off. I'm so, so sorry! Hold on, I'll get you a glass of water, just-”
You immediately begin to make your way to the water dispenser to get a glass for him when he grabs you by the wrist. You stiffen.
“No. Wait, I.. ” He pauses. Sniffs and wipes away at his teary eyes with his sleeve. Slowly, you turn to look back at William. His eyes continue to remain fixed at the table smoothed over with countless conversations and shared meals from the past. “Stay.”
“I'm sorry if I'm crying.” He says, tone of voice brittle. He laughs wryly and exhales shakily.
“It's just-” He lifts his head, looking at you with wet, glassy eyes. “I haven't had anyone cook me a meal in a long time.” His hand dives into his pocket to retrieve a handkerchief which he uses to gently dab at his eyes.
“Liam..” You mutter softly, feeling a pang of sympathy grow in your heart for him.
Your heart ached at the sight, feeling the weight of those three years of his absence and longing. Without a word, you pull William into a tight embrace, creating a haven where the world outside ceased to exist.
“It's just been a while, you know?” He murmurs, eyelids closed as he buries his face into your shoulder. Tears cascaded down William's cheeks, his vulnerability laid bare in that single moment. “I missed this..so much.”
Your hold around him tightens, pulling him closer - further into you. “I missed taking care of you.” You whisper, stroking his soft blond hair. “But you're here now and neither of us are going to feel that way ever again.”
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Decaying Godhood- Chapter 2: Solemn Freedom
<- Chapter 1 ● Chapter 3 ->
“Nothing is moving…”
Nyx sat quietly on the ground, watching the three look out the giant golden door. Occasionally one of them would look back at her. It made her feel something unpleasant, she wasn’t entirely sure what it was though.
“No one is collapsing, either…” Minako said, “it’s like they’re frozen in time.”
“Do you think it’s just the view we have from here?” Minato asked.
“No,” Ryoji answered, “something doesn’t feel right… at all.”
Minako glanced back at Nyx, “do things feel off to you?”
She nodded.
“Well… what do we do?” Minako moved her attention to the other two.
“Wait.” Ryoji pointed out of the door, “something’s moving.”
The twins looked carefully.
“It looks like a person…” Minato said.
“No way,” Minako gently pulled the hair away from his eyes, “look again, no human has hair that white.”
“Akihiko-senpai had white hair, though.”
Minako shook her head, “but not that bright!”
Ryoji cleared his throat, “how about the feathers? Humans don’t have wings.”
“Are they wings? It looks more like a cape.” Minako let go of Minato’s hair, “check out all that gold too…”
“Either this guy is just really rich, or not human.” Minato said flatly, turning away.
“And those are mutually exclusive?” Ryoji moved away from the door. “They could be both.”
“I suppose so.”
“Guys.” Nyx flinched when all three quickly looked at her, “they’re moving, right? Does it matter what they look like?”
Ryoji sighed, “no, you’re right.” He faced the twins, “what should we do?”
“I don’t know, but…” Minako gestured out the door, “there’s someone else there now.”
Ryoji and Minato quickly looked out again.
“I’m going to investigate.” Ryoji said suddenly, “you two stay here… whatever is happening seems to only be affecting humans.”
“Wait, how do we know it’s safe?” Minako questioned, folding her arms.
“I can’t die, remember?”
“Yes but-“
“Ryoji!”
The three slowly looked at Nyx. She bit her tongue, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to shout… it’s just.” She stood up, “have you felt anyone die?”
Ryoji narrowed his eyes, “what are you saying?”
“You’re Death,” she said, “you should be able to tell if people are leaving this world.”
Ryoji paused. Nyx could tell he didn’t want to take her words, but he pondered anyway.
“No one is dying.”
“There you have it,” Nyx said, “the world is at a standstill.“
Minato glanced at Ryoji.
“…You’re coming with me.” Ryoji slashed the chains off of Nyx’s wrists and neck, “I don’t trust you to stay with them.”
“That’s fair…” Nyx nodded, holding her wrist.
Minato placed a hand on Ryoji’s shoulder, “may I speak with you first?”
Nyx watched them wander off. Minako approached her, grabbing her hands.
“Listen, I know… he has every right to be mad at you, but…” Minako picked up her evoker, placing it in Nyx’s hands, “I hope you’ll protect him. Even if he doesn’t want you to.”
Nyx felt her eyes begin to water.
Minako smiled, “I don’t know if I can stay mad at you… it wasn’t really your fault, was it?”
“You don’t have to make excuses for me.”
“I know, but it wasn’t you, was it?”
Nyx could feel her heart sting. Minako was right, but she felt as though she couldn’t admit it.
“Does it matter?” Nyx asked, “I still tried to do it.”
“Nyx, you weren’t even a person, then,” Minako patted her shoulder, “you were… an idea, a force of nature. Of course you didn’t know the harm it would bring.” She held her hand, “I… know about Erebus. I’m sure reflecting on all of that now must…” Minako shook her head. “I’m putting my trust in you. Now is your chance to become a great individual.”
Now she couldn’t see. Tears flooded from her eyes, dropping onto her hands below.
“I know gods probably can’t get Personas, but… I want you to take that evoker with you.” Minako attempted to wipe away the tears with her stone fingers, “ah sorry! That probably isn’t very comforting.”
Nyx laughed slightly, “thank you, Minako.”
“Damn, you made her cry?”
Nyx could barely make out Minato’s form before her.
“I didn’t mean to…” Minako said.
Nyx wiped her eyes, looking at Ryoji. His gaze still held disdain, but had softened slightly.
“Oh that’s a good idea!” Minako noted Ryoji wearing a SEES armband. She removed her own, the bright red colour returning as she wrapped it around Nyx’s arm. “Now you guys gotta go be the heroes, okay?”
Nyx smiled softly, bowing to her, “I won’t let you down.”
“Ryoji,” Minato said, “are you gonna give it to her?”
Ryoji sighed, “if you act out I’m taking this back,” he held out the sword he had used while he was Nyx Avatar.
Nyx carefully took it, “thank you, Ryoji.”
Ryoji nodded, facing Minato again, “we’ll be back.”
Minato smiled softly, “and we’ll be watching over you two.”
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Who Loses... Wins - An EZ Reyes/Reader Smut Short.
Teasing cockwarming with EZ? Why, yes. Have at it. 
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Words - 651
Warnings - Smut below the cut. Under 18? Please do NOT engage!
“Oh god… fuck. You ain’t gonna make this easy, are you?”
“Just because you set me a challenge, it doesn’t mean I can’t counter-screw with you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What an interesting choice of words.”
“Yeah,” you agree, leaning to kiss him. “Kinda obvious in the antithesis of our current situation.”
Squeezing your inner muscles around him again, a saturated clasp against his hot rigidity, you watch EZ bite his lower lip, grunting quietly. Another clench, and his eyes close, a frown creasing his forehead. “God damnit.”  
His challenge was to see how long you could sit still with him inside you, no rocking against him, no movement of your body at all that involves you sliding upon his cock for friction. He never stated, however, that you couldn’t give said cock a damned good grasping within the soaking clutch of your walls.  
It’s killing you as much as it is him, but you’re loathed to let on, loving that the ace he presumed to have up his sleeve has well and truly been transferred to yours. He’s dying, dying to throw you your back and pound the hell out of you, drag your pussy with brutal, voracious thrusts, but losing and EZ Reyes have never particularly gone well together.  
Clench, release. Clench, release.
“Dying to give me the kind of dicking down I’ll still be feeling in a week?”
He snorts, his hand grasping your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, laying kisses at the column of your throat. “Honey, I’ll fuck you so damned hard, your ancestors will feel it. All you gotta do is lose.”
This is a tricky notion to contend with, for someone just as stubborn as he, which is exactly what you are. You could get fucked into oblivion, but you’d lose. Would you, though? You’d get exactly what you want, after all. Your squeezes around him, of course, leave you just as longing as he.  
Win, or lose? Win... and get what? To wait for longer, or lose, and get him right now?
“I give up.”  
You expect to be set upon with ravenous intent, except that doesn’t happen, EZ instead making his big cock twitch within your heat, evoking a soft gasp of incredulity. “Oh yeah, baby girl. Two can play the twitching game.” Doing it again, he laughs, halting you when you attempt to begin bouncing upon him, strong hands gripping your waist, preventing your movement. Damn him.  
“What happened to the ancestor disturbing dicking down, then?”
He chuckles, kissing you, his cock quavering within you a few more times. “I have to make sure you really, really want it before I do.”  
“You ain’t gonna make this easy for me, are you?” Your echoing of his earlier statement prompts a smug smirk, EZ pattering his fingers up your spine, his cock flexing again, right against your sweet spots, your little gasp making his insides prickle pleasantly.  
“No. I’m gonna make you beg.”  
“Bastard.”
“Ah, ah. No name calling, querida, else I’ll force you to sit here on it for hours.”  
Damn him, damn him, damn him!
“I want you to fuck me, EZ. I want to feel every last single, solid inch of this gorgeous, long cock piledriving into me, get you all wet with me, fuck, I need it, I need you so badly. Please, I’m begging you. Pound my tight little pussy. I know you love me, but shit, I want you to fuck me like you don’t.”
The surprise isn’t the speed he flattens you onto your back with, it’s the fact that he manages not to lose tangency where you’re deeply fused, his cock only slipping from you a few inches before he ruts with power, daggering into you sharply, forcing a shrill cry from your throat as he goes about rearranging your guts with wickedly furious snaps of his hips, utterly ploughing you into the bed.  
Sometimes, losing feels good.  
A/N - Did you enjoy it? Rewarding your hard working author with a comment and reblog goes a long way :)
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weird-kid-maxx · 5 months
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I'm Not Him (And Never Will Be) (My Babysitter's A Vampire Benny Weir X Fem! OC)
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Forewarning: I am putting Jesse as a good guy in all of these (except, MAYBE, a few) because I genuinely like Jesse and felt he could've had a redemption arc after the season 2 finale.
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Prompt: The reader (OC) breaking down at an inconvenient moment after something seemingly harmless evokes a horrific memory.
Summary: The OC, Athena, has an abusive ex that used to hit her for every little thing. Fast-forward three years, and she's with Benny Weir. When two jocks get in a fight at school and accidentally injure her, she freaks, and the truth comes out.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort.
Warnings: Abuse; First Fight; Relationship Trauma; Abusive Ex; PTSD; Sweet Benny; Hurt Benny Weir; Hurt OC.
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Third Person POV
Athena has been with Benny for four months, and yet all they did to this day was hold hands, share kisses, and cuddle. Now, Benny wasn't a pushy guy. She didn't want to get intimate or whatever, that was fine! He wasn't needy like that. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so he went at her pace. It's just...sometimes, he was confused. She seemed so fine one second, and then someone would snap, or yell or say something, and she'd go all tense and quiet, and he would wonder, not for the first time, if she was possibly hiding some dark secret. He wanted her to trust him. And she did, but...not with whatever was hurting her. He understood, but...it hurt.
Lately, he's been asking the vampires about Athena. Had they noticed anything different? Was she acting weird, or was it just him? "Don't push her," Jesse told Benny one day at lunch as Athena stood in line with Ethan and Sarah. "She'll tell you when she's ready. One of my biggest mistakes was pushing Sarah." He added. "That's why I lost her." "Oh. Okay." Benny said as the other three approached.
He spent the next few days sort of...analyzing Athena. If someone yelled, he watched her body language. He didn't mean to treat her like a science experiment, she was just worrying him.
One day, two jocks got in a fight. They were arguing pretty loudly when Jesse, Erica, Benny, and Athena left Math, right there in the hall, and were throwing insults back and forth. Now, usually, nobody would bother, but everyone in the hall felt that it would get violent in under ten seconds, so a girl ran to get the staff, and the taller one suddenly shoved the shorter one into the locker, and he tripped into the metal, slamming into Athena, knocking her to the ground with a slam that echoed painfully in Benny's ears.
At that point, Jesse snarled, shoving the two struggling humans apart as Athena scrambled to her feet and bolted, shoving past the crowd and nearly knocking another girl into the lockers. Benny, though he wanted to go after her, knew he had to let her breathe, and started helping Jesse separate the jocks, still shouting at one another, until teachers swarmed the hallway, pulling them apart. "Where's Athena?" Sarah gasped, eyes wide. "This way!" Erica called, running down the hall at human speed. The others shared glances and followed her into the closest closet.
She was in the corner, knees to her face, crying. "Athena!" Benny pushed past a startled Erica. No one had seen her cry, not like this. "Hey, hey, what--" He flinched as her hands flew up, pushing at him, and she whimpered, "Don't--don't touch me."
"Hey, it's me!" Benny blinked, hurt. She glanced up, and Benny's heart twisted. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had claw marks on her cheeks, flushed pink, from her nails. "What happened?" Sarah asked. Jesse grabbed Sarah's arm. "Let's give them a minute, okay?" He asked, eyes checking Athena over. As the girls left the closet, he asked, "You okay, Thena?" She nodded. "Thank you," She whispered. Jesse smiled softly and told Benny, "We'll be right outside." He left, shutting the door carefully so it didn't slam.
"I'm sorry." Athena whispered, rubbing her sweaty hands on her jeans. "It's okay. What...what happened, why'd you freak so bad?" He asked. "Does it scare you when that happens?" He wondered. "Sort of?" She hedged. At his curious look, she sighed. "I had an ex. Remember me telling you about Jay?" She wondered, and he nodded. "Yeah, you said you broke up with him because it didn't work out." He recalled. "It didn't, because...he used to hurt me. He would...hit me a lot, and he'd call me names. He was really abusive and controlling, and now, because of him, if something happens--a fight too close, too much yelling, something resembling anger--I freak and have a panic attack." She said softly. Benny's eyes widened. "What?" He asked in a voice that made Athena wish she'd never opened her mouth. "Who...who'd hurt you, you're an awesome person!" He nearly yelled. She flinched. "I'm sorry, please..." She whispered.
"No, no, no, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whispered, reaching forwards, and stopped. "Can I hug you?" "Of course!" She said, wrapping her arms around Benny. She sunk into his arms. For every time she remembered Jay's harsh words or fists, Benny was there to chase it all away.
Outside the closet, Erica's eyes watered. "I never knew." She whispered, leaning against the wall. Sarah blinked, and a tear traced her cheek. "I don't think any of us did." She whispered, eyes flicking to Jesse's. The older vampire was glaring down the hall. "I'm gonna kill him." "No." The voice said, and the door opened. "Please, don't." Athena whispered, rubbing her still-pink cheeks dry of tears. "He hurt you, so let me kill him." Erica promised. "Guys, no. Just...stay with me. I need you guys here with me." Athena whispered, eyes watering again. "Okay. We can stay." Jesse sighed. Athena smiled. "Thank you." She turned to Benny, hiding her face in his striped hoodie. For a moment, Benny looked a little scary. His face was cold and flat, and his eyes were almost black. "You, uh...look a little...different," Sarah hedged. He glanced at her. "I...I'm taking her home." He grabbed Athena's hand and led her down the hall. Once they were gone, Sarah smiled. "I know where he lives." Erica and Jesse looked at her. "We're going hunting. Tonight." She snarled, stalking down the hall. Erica grinned, and Jesse laughed.
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husbandomail · 15 days
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hi!! im so horrifically in love with your writing for ichiro (almost cried while reading one embarrassingly enough) and i was wondering if you could do Ichiro with a gf that’s a really picky eater? Like picky to the point where she won’t even touch vegetables cause she can’t handle the texture of them
it's not embarrassing to cry!! fics and stuff have made me react the same way more than once, I'm flustered my writing was able to evoke strong emotion like that dfgnmjhgfd. I hope this is okay!!
Ichiro doesn’t pay much mind to the first time he takes you out to dinner and you just push the vegetables around on your plate. He’s been there— something sounds fantastic on the menu, but the moment you’ve taken a bite, you change your mind. He can totally get that.
The second time, though— in the process of making lunch for his brothers, Ichiro had gladly thrown a lunch together for you as well, and he’s humming happily as he steps through the doors of your workplace. He loves surprising you like this, watching your face light up the moment you recognize him. At this point nobody argues when you take an unscheduled break.
“I thought you’d like this one,” Ichiro sounds incredibly proud as you open the carefully-packed bento box; everything inside is colorful and clearly prepared with love. That’s why— despite your smile and cheerful words of thanks— Ichiro notices immediately that you’re avoiding a few things, and he frowns. “Oh, did I guess wrong?”
Listen. Ichiro Yamada is an older brother. You might be embarrassed, or consider yourself inconvenient, but he’s quite literally not bothered at all— he raised Jiro and Saburo by himself, after all, so he’s seen practically everything by now. Ichiro is immediately apologetic that he’d made something you can’t eat, but he’s also equally determined to take care of you anyways.
You’re already a constant presence in the Yamada household, where every meal is a family event; it’s not exactly hard to work your preferences into the rotation, exactly like they’d done with Jiro and his weak spice tolerance. Plus, Ichiro is always looking for an excuse to get you into the kitchen with him anyways— whether you already know how to cook, or need him to teach you the ropes, he just thinks there’s something intimate about spending time in the kitchen together.
Now, while Ichiro is at least incredibly considerate of your tastes— he’ll admit he doesn’t entirely understand how things like sensory issues work, but you can’t control it and he knows that much— he does want to see if your list of safe foods can be expanded even the slightest bit. Food is an experience, after all, and he wants to share that with you. He’s polite about it, but at least once a week he’ll slip a tiny bite of something new onto your plate and expect you to take a bite. It’s fine if you end up not liking it— he also makes sure his own plate has a few things you can eat, so you’re always welcome to stretch out with your fork and snatch a few bites.
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ofstoriesandstardust · 10 months
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For the 20 questions ask game!
18. Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character’s POV.
wip game!
this took me a minute because i got food poisoning this week, however i finally finished it! this is from Slider's perspective from a piece entitled innocent (but it's originally from Rebel's perspective)
cw: underage drinking
He watches the door screen door shut behind you before he lets out a sigh, letting his head fall into his hand. 
God, what a fucked up situation this was. 
Your Dad, who was rarely home, now home for an undetermined amount of time as he recovered from injuries that should’ve killed him. 
Your godfather, home now because of an illness that could very well kill him. 
And quite frankly, he’d expected you to break. 
The guilt was all-consuming, the way he had expected this to break you, to evoke the side of you he hadn’t seen since you were nineteen. 
The two of you had never discussed those months, and especially not that night. You’d apologized to Ice, he knew that much, after a less than ideal trip to D.C. The conversation the two of you had had in that city had brought you all the closer together. 
He knew you had promised your Dad you wouldn’t drink. He knows that you stuck to it, even after you turned 21. You rarely consumed alcohol as it was, only on special occasions or out at nice dinners. 
What you did on base and on deployments was something he had no idea about but he knew, that at the very least, you rarely picked up a drink when you were with them. 
He’d never trusted what Tom and Pete saw in your conversations, saw in you, that you had really changed, that you were sorry. He always held tight to his suspicions that one day, you’d pick the bottle back up and not put it back down again. 
But you’d handled everything so well. 
Which almost made him more scared, that you were the rock for the family when so long everyone had been looking out and taking care of you. You were holding it together too well, and he knew that no matter what, you would eventually break. 
And he wanted you to trust him enough to come to him when the storm hit, because it would, and it would hit hard, and he knew you wouldn’t without an apology. 
It was long overdue anyways. 
He slips out onto the front porch where you’re sitting, holding two cans of the soda you drank like it was water, though it was probably a habit he encouraged considering he picked you up a case every time he went to Costco. 
He holds out the cna to you before sitting down next to you on the porch swing. 
There was a storm rolling in off the coast, remnants of a tropical storm, warning of trouble to come. 
“Kiddo, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” 
You hum, looking up at him. “Am I in trouble?” 
His heart clenches at the thought that you might think the only reason he’d want to talk to you is yell at you. 
He’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, not at all. I owe you an apology.” 
You quirk an eyebrow. “What? Why?” 
He swallows. “For what happened when you were at UCSD.” 
He sighs, shifting to lean his forearms on his knees. “I owe you an apology. I should’ve told you I was sorry a long time ago, but I haven’t.” He shakes his head, looking away from you. “I’ve spent a long time holding my breath. I thought that maybe we hadn’t seen the end of it, that maybe Pete and Tom were wrong about you moving past that. But-” Slider cuts himself off, letting out a breath through his teeth. “You have handled this all with so much grace, that I have to admit kid, that I was wrong. I was always so caught up on your safety, on making sure that you were still around to have a future, that I missed out on you growing up. I was wrong that night, to accuse you of that and I’m sorry for it. And I’m sorry for every day that I’ve held it over you, whether you knew it or not.” 
He glances over you as you’ve gone quiet before realizing you’re crying. 
Oh, he’s really fucked this up hasn’t he?
He reaches over, quick to pull you into a hug. 
“It doesn’t matter Sli.” 
He pauses, blinking. “What do you mean?” 
You shake your head, looking back out at the storm. “None of it matters.” You shrug. “None of it matters, cause I never forgave myself for doing that or for the hell I put everyone through.” 
“Kid-”
“No, because why should I? All I did was drink and make friends with shitty people and hurt everyone around me just because I was hurting.” 
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achilleslefttoe · 3 months
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The Gods.
hihihihihihi, so basically this is mostly for @star-realities but im making it public cause yes. hope this is helpful so basically, im writing a book series, and my big idea was to make design gods for the world inspired by me and the friends i created the world for. there've been multiple versions of this series but the very first was based on me and 3 of my friends. I found it fitting to make us the gods of the world because if it weren't for us, the book nor the world it takes place in would exist.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
so these are us, i made the photos on picrew (@/hunbloom). but anyways here's the actual lore. basically Achaii woke up one day bored as hell and said "damn, this thing we live in is bland as hell. imma spice it up" and grabbed their paintbrush and made the sky. Legends say they still paint the sky every night and morning.
Evanitis saw this and joined in making greenery. The two enjoyed their freedom and the other two watched. Zacharaea and Maion never really liked each other but they both loved Ace and Evan. Then Zach wanted to join in, so he and Evan made fire by accident. Zach, overwhelmed by pride cried, and Ace stepped in to make the oceans and rivers to store the tears of Zach and later on the others. The tear thing is important later. Mae blew the fire out to keep it from spreading, they all knew the power that their creations had.
After Mae had blown out the fire, the earth parted. Evan fixed it to be somewhat uniform afterward. (goodbye Pangea) They called their island Te Etearia Isle, later changed to The Ethereal Isles. Located off the southern coast of France.
After this, Evan created an herb he was fond of and decided to burn it, after he burnt it, he began creating whatever the fuck he wanted (yes, i'm implying he made weed)
One night the deities came together to create the first humans. They loved each other in VARIOUS different ways but it got lonely when it was just the 4 of them. Mae worked out the fine tuning of humans. Two arms, two legs, two lungs, a head, brain, and heart. Of course and so on. Each one of their first humans had their own special features but i haven't worked them all out yet.
Anyways, back to the tears thing. In my story, on their side (there's their realm and our side aka the boring non magic side) there are four bodies of water that are considered Tears of a God, which is written in Latin but I don't have a perfect translation for it yet. These bodies of water have special properties that vary depending on which god cried into them. They're all salt water cause yk, they're tears.
I have one for everyone but Evan, the only thing I know about his is that it's like The Yellow River in China, it's rough and prone to flooding for a very specific reason. But that reason is written in my history notebook that i left in my locker at school.
Ace's (well mine) is called Mourner's Peak, where there's multiple little ponds (or maybe geysers idk yet) each one evokes a different emotion. Mostly negative, but some positive.
Zach's is the original pond Ace had made for him to cry into when they made fire for the first time. That is the main portal, his tears make it possible to travel from each realm easily.
Mae's in a deep deep saltwater pond, under it is the cave where she locked away the other three gods. They're stuck under there for thousands of years.
also, the star over bethlehem where people say jesus was born is where the big fight between Mae and the others happened. The star was Ace fighting cause yk they're the deity of the cosmos and celestial magic. Also toying with the idea I wrote the bible as a joke and someone found it after we locked away and then continued it lmao.
anyways, that's it for now. if anyone has questions or wants me to go into more detail on anything, I will gladly do so. Also if you wanna hear more about my series in general, i will gladly ramble about it
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nerdy-stilinski · 1 year
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Movie Meme 🎥
Post 7 comfort movies and tag 7 people
I was tagged by @milkcryptid (thank you love <3)
Pacific Rim: i am unfortunately SO annoying about this movie but like. what's not to love. giant robots piloted by people to fight the giant sea monsters? oh and by the way the pilots have an inimitable soul-bond that can be platonic or romantic? and the score FUCKS? amazing. 13/10 this movie changed my brain chemistry when i saw it in theaters at 11
Lilo and Stitch: this was my favorite movie as a kid and just HEARING the soundtrack literally relaxes me. hawaiian rollercoaster ride is like xanax to my brain. this is also why i have a found family problem these days (i cry every time i watch this movie don't look at me)
Undrafted: this is a new addition to the comfort movie collection for two reasons: tyler hoechlin in a baseball uniform and the fact that this movie is shockingly wholesome? idk sometimes it's nice to watch a movie literally about one singular baseball game that you know the outcome of. tickles my brain
Top Gun: MY FAVORITE MOVIE OF ALL TIME. ARGUABLY THE BEST 80s MOVIE. i want the top gun theme to be what i walk down the aisle to. the acting is horrible in this movie. the plot questionable. but i can name every pilot and rio in this film by call sign and name. take my breath away by berlin evokes an emotion in me i cannot describe. i still cry when goose dies. tearing up thinking about "he loved flying with you mav." when i die put this movie on my grave.
The Lost Boys: watched this movie for the first time with my mom when i was 16 at 3 am because we both have insomnia. my second contender for best 80s movie of all time because it really has everything you could want in a vampire movie. my mom got a husky and named it nanook because of this movie. it is so nostalgic and literally perfect in every way
Captain America: The Winter Soldier: i can quote the entirety of this movie. i had a bucky barnes phase and a steve rogers phase that haven't ended because of this movie. three words: the stealth suit. fr tho this is the best marvel movie and the only argument i'll take is thor: ragnarok. my brother and i watch this movie together sometimes still when we're having a bad day
Miracle: LISTEN i love hockey so fucking much it should surprise nobody that this is a comfort movie for me. i know the US beats the USSR in 1980 and i knew it before i watched this movie the first time and i STILL cried about it. so good. probably propaganda and i don't care it's perfect
if you'd like :) - @stilinskiderek @missanniewhimsy @elisela @faiataka @rosieposiepuddingnpie @geekmom13 @renmackree
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kiryll-antiqua · 8 months
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Envoy
There was a package for him in the usual place at the usual time where Kiryll expected to recieve gifts a certain someone insisted on giving him. He expected them to cease with Varis's passing, but they kept coming at their appointed time.
The gifts were almost always practical or perishable things that Kiryll seemed to express some passing interest in. They would end up in his hands, discreetly packaged, without fail, every two months, despite his own insistence that it was unneeded.
"Let me do this, if you will not allow me to have your enemies slain for you."
Currency given out only to those who participated in the games at the Wolves Den, which he himself was once too timid to join, a fresh loaf of bread, still warm, from the most expensive bakery in town, a dip pen handle made of inlaid mother of pearl, depicting a beautiful white bird with long tail feathers, all things that were untraceable and easy to dismiss as innocuous and not out of place.
Surely there was some envoy still watching him. He had never caught the deliverer of the packages, partially out of lack of curiosity and partially not wanting to learn if it was someone he knew already. But Varis was dead and the Empire with it, so this should have stopped.
Two months was enough of the passage of time that it was easy to forget, and Kiryll was becoming more and more fed up with Ul'dah the longer he stayed there, but he wanted to know who it was who was still sending him things.
It was very easy to think that one in this city truly cared for him except his mother. People had certainly been apt to use him when they discovered he was kind despite looking too Garlean to be trustworthy. Even as a Warrior of Light, he felt like he could sense certain people's derision without even having a conversation with him, but his journey and meeting friends who treated him well had reduced his misanthropic worldview. Still, Ul'dah had lost its charm, and telling himself no one cared for him made it easy for him to think about leaving.
He stood up as if it were Starlight Eve, waiting for this mysterious courier in the hallway to his apartment. Despite his presence, the courier approached.
The envoy ended up indeed being someone he knew, a scrappy miqote girl who called herself Grizabella, who had "adopted" him despite being at least ten years his junior.
"Griz, no."
"Kiryll, I..."
"Why?"
"Look, I know this looks terribly suspicious, but if it's anything, I did replace the original courier after knocking them out for stalking you. I agreed to take up package delivery after I saw them lift your mood."
Kiryll was trying to break the habit of crying at the drop of a hat these days, but as usual, his tears couldn't be contained. "I would rather this stop. I've been thinking about leaving anyway."
"I guess I gotta tell the guy, then."
Kiryll folded his arms and straightened up. "And just who is this guy, Griz?"
"Another go between. There's loike, four or five that rotate for security purposes or sommat."
Kiryll sighed. "Of course." It made all the sense in the world for Varis to have gone overboard with his contingencies.
Grizabella tried to change the subject by lifting the package up for him to look at, and he reluctantly took it. It was a teacup in the style he had dimly remembered his grandmother owning in his early childhood. It wasn’t anything that had belonged to her, but close enough in style that it still evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Ohh! This one's right pretty, it is!"
"These things are always beautiful in their own way. I think I should rather whatever infrastructure is behind this to start giving to the poor instead. I obviously won't be giving up any of them, but when I move, they'll just be stolen off my doorstep anyway." The teacup was bright red and made of some kind of translucent ceramic or crystal, painted with gold filigree in abstract vines and flowers that reminded him of certain decorative motifs he had also seen in the fairytale books his aunt had read him and his sister about Ivalice.
Varis had also loved the tale of the Vagrant, and had probably been read to from a much fancier copy of the tale in the palace. Kiryll shook his head to keep himself from dissociating in front of Grizabella, though.
"So, if you want fings to be donated to the poor, I can arrange it. Mostly what I end up getting are instructions and money to purchase fings, 'cept in cases like this one where it's an import."
"I would be much happier if we could use that to make sure the orphanage is well stocked with donated goods in a sustainable way. That's what I tend to try to do with all of my feelings about him. Try to turn it around and cleanse it until its good intent is actually usable."
"Kiryll, I know the Empire was bad and he was bad, too, but. You don't 'ave to spend all of your time trying to fix or clean fings or transform them until they seem acceptable. It's clear that he really seemed to 'ave feelings for you, tyrant or no, paragon to 'is own people, but unable to stop thinking about you." She stopped, realizing she had probably said too much. If she had just played it cool, it would have escaped Kiryll's notice.
"And how do you know that, Griz?"
"I ain't ever met 'im meself, but wiv working with the other couriers, they 'ad the complaint."
Kiryll let himself smirk. "Loyal Imperial spies sworn to secrecy, leaking the scandal wasn't worth the price they knew they'd pay, perhaps."
"Ain't no stakes in it now, so I dunno what's what anymore, but I took a part in it because you stopped smilin', and I couldn't fink of any other way to do it than remain giving you the gifts he intended to send you. There’s a bit of a backlog, wiv local provisioning requests interwoven. A lot of thought went into this."
Kiryll scratched his head nervously. "Of course there is..."
"Would you like to get biscuits? I don't know if I should just leave you 'ere alone after all this."
Kiryll nodded. During the last string of adventuring with the Scions, he had learned how important a measure of rest was. "There are several places still open at this hour. I can treat us. I'm good for it."
"I know you are! 'At's why I keep you around!"
Kiryll placed the teacup on his counter, grabbed a coat and locked his door.
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inkstone-dragon · 1 year
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Hello~. May I ask for a bouquet of azalea, iris, crocus, poppy, tigerlily, and freesia, please and thank you?
Why, of course my dear~ I'll pick out only the freshest of flowers~
azalea— what is the most recent song you listened to? how do you feel about it?
The last song I listened too was 'Honey, I'm Home!' by GHOST, but it was a remix in an animatic for Mandela Catalogue. Honestly, the song is both 1) super good and 2) makes me think about writing stuff which I'm trying to re-spark in myself the way I want. Even without the animatic though, the song is very good and I suggest checking it out.
iris— would you describe yourself as a sensitive person? why or why not?
Both yes and no? I wouldn't outright describe myself as sensitive, I can generally keep myself held together, but at the same time I'll cry for anything. I still remember that one Chopped episode where the guy split the winning prize with the lady at the end because she wanted to visit her family and he really only wanted the title, so he ended it by telling her he'd pay for it and me crying for that. Or basically every Restaurant Impossible episode. Basically anything that evokes emotion I'll feel it.
crocus— do you have any significant dreams that you remember? what were they about?
Oh gosh do I! There's the library in the massive tree, with the marble stairwell and the ocean sitting at the crown of its leaves; there's the one with the aliens and all the fantasy creatures being hidden away as little statuettes; and then the backrooms mall series I've got.
Then there's the one-offs I remember, the beach skateboarding race with Lucky the leprechaun; there's the one where I was in my back yard and watching all the planets fall down out of the sky; the one where I really could shapeshift into a raven. There's a lot more, I remember a lot of dreams.
poppy— out of the four seasons, which season of the year is your favorite and why?
Winter, because I am a Christmas junkie! And I love snow (to play it but recognize the jack shit of having to clean it up), the few times we ever get it here. Hot cocoa, fireplaces, baking up a storm. These are my kinds of vibes.
tigerlily— do you have any favorite quotes from any movies, tv shows, books, or poetry? (or from people in real life)
Off the top of my head I only can remember one, from someone in real life, but I know I've got more in there somewhere. But at church once a guest pastor gave us this one and it's stuck in my head since then:
"You being here doesn't fix the world and make it better, but you can make every place you go better for your presence if you remember to care."
I think about it a lot. It takes so little at times to leave wherever you're at a little cleaner, a bit nicer: grabbing a second shopping cart on the way back to the corral, saying an honest thank you to a worker, offering help when it can be offered. It doesn't take much but it's so easy to forget that. You've got to do more than just stand there and watch, 'wanting' things to be better but never pitching in.
freesia— what do you want people to remember you for? (serious or non-serious answers)
Love. I want people to remember me that I was loving and brought smiles. I don't need much, I don't chase after much, but that's what I want to be remembered for, both while I am still here and when I am long gone.
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the-nysh · 2 years
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I've had a realization that two things amaze me about Garou's character in manga. 1) how he gradually transformed from a char one wouldn't give a f about (if we forget about wc, only manga - to me, his char was really unappealing in the beginning, like sir u just spend ur time beating up heroes?? okok) into someone that many! readers really care about. How to explain it.. He was almost a nobody, a mere hooligan who didn't evoke any sympathy (at least in me))), but with every chap he became more versatile and boom! in ch81 I read comments like "I like him", "i don't want heroes to hurt him", "want him to survive" etc. And further.. I got a feeling that he's the main char of his story that we witness (he is). Such a twist to me - from nobody to protagonist (kinda).
And boy.. if only you knew who many people (in our universe so to say) care about you, support, admire you (idk if it makes sense lol) (but we know he wouldn't believe it anyway)
And 2) how much pain is actually stored inside him! I know that some people view him as dumb but man he's only 18, he seems to grow up without any emotional support, he had to figure out stuff on his own, no guidance, no idea how to deal with all the turmoil within, how to fit in, his mind is messed up by all this loneliness and.. He's literally a child who doesn't understand why he's in pain. He's come so far, gained so much strength and cockiness ahah but inside him there's only pain and confusion.
I continue to see a bunch of people who only want the manga to follow the wc, to see the evil and terror performed by this char,fight fight fight! but ohh he's much more than what people want to see in him
Sorry for my rant😳 I just needed to put together all these thoughts of mine and share them with someone, or - 🤯
Oho~ :'3c Well thank you for sharing your story! (If you're interested in mine, in how my perceptions of him changed over time, plus some bonus fav moments, then there you go~) Looks like your emotional turning point for him was around the the shed scene too (as it was for many manga readers including yours truly who began watching him with more invested interest), with the A/B hero gauntlet and his greatest test of character at that point - risking his life to both survive and admirably protect Tareo against such impossible odds, where his brand of 'justice' miraculously pulls through...(on towards ever more impressive, escalating heights~)
Looking back, he did say in his introduction how he was here to 'change the story' (and wow how meta that sentiment became!!) 8'D
And oooh how much he's needed that proper guidance, yes. (Bang unfortunately couldn't provide him with what he needed most then.) And an emotional support network he's always lacked (aaa how he's been lone and self-sufficient for so long...and yet, deep down he's still wanted to feel valued/loved/understood/SEEN by others in some way, when he'd always felt rejected or denied of that, cause even when he was a 'good' boy at his best and most authentic, his methods never worked without others still punishing him for it...) To help him process, heal, and constructively navigate all his turbulent emotional pain and internalized trauma/anger/confusion... Instead of focusing all his efforts (and channeling/compensating all his feelings) into gaining strength and the 'monster' persona as quite the elaborate defense mechanisms. :') (Which can also be read as a rebellious message/cry for help & proper attention he just hasn't comprehended yet...)
Til the poor guy's endured almost a lifetime of extreme pain/suffering within a single week of pushing himself to the brink. Hooboy;;; so many of his fans just want him to properly rest. ;o; (And at his young age, he still has much time to learn and figure things out.) That he deserves so much better than to be continually subjected/locked into such a cruel cycle of injustice (esp the ones beyond his control or even his own doing)....that seeing him somehow 'break free' or rise above that, upon his own honest (and true) self-realization and power one day, will feel so liberating and satisfying. :') I truly hope and wish for him the best on his struggling emotional journey to finally discover and accept himself. <3
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skz317cb97 · 2 years
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A friend of mine asked me to write an article for his mental health blog talking about depression and anxiety. Figured I'd share it here with you all as well. Trigger warning! There is lots of talk about, childhood trauma, addiction, drug use, self-harm, and similar topics. If that can be upsetting or triggering for you, please skip reading this.
Was the anxiety and depression always there in me from the beginning? Was it something that I was born with and grew with in me like my organs and the rest of the parts of my body? Or was it planted and grown from the people in my life, my environment, like a seed, fertilized and watered? The things I was subjected to at a young age, growing up faster than any child should have to. There isn’t a time I can remember that there wasn’t fear pricking at my brain, making my heart race and my stomach turn. Would that have always been the case or was it just my experience? Do I fear these things because of the experience or is the way I reacted to the experience because of something already inside me?  
I was very young, kindergarten maybe, the wife of my dad’s friend coming to our house frantic because someone was looking in their windows at her. Over twenty-five plus years later and I check to make sure my curtains are closed every night. Second grade, I was hit by a car. Afterwards if you even suggested crossing a street I was panicking, I STILL look down an empty street both ways before crossing with a racing heart. I distinctly recall vomiting in a man’s driveway after I had been told I may have to cross a highway that we had broken down on. I had a volatile family on both sides. If adults were arguing or voices started getting raised, I was puking. Growing up in the mid-west, tornado warning, tornado watch, severe thunderstorm warning? I was puking and hiding in the bathroom. I had never even been in a tornado. A man my dad had ripped off, outside of my family’s house, screaming he was going to burn it down and me quietly crying in my room in the dark scared I’m going to die in a fire that night. I’m told I’m supposed to be asleep while the man yells outside. So again, I ask do I fear these things because of the experience or is the way I react to the experience because of something already lying dormant inside me? 
I’m supposed to be sleeping. I’m supposed to be sleeping because I have to go to school the next day, and I did go. Through all of these things I had go to school, take tests, do homework, participate in life like everything was normal. I had to rise above and find a way through on my own. In elementary school. I wasn’t going to get help learning to cope from my teachers or the school, they had no idea what was going on in my life. I certainly wasn’t going to get it from my family. My parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. My grandparents, my father’s parents that is, did what they could but that was mainly keeping us fed and a roof over our heads when my parents failed to do so. They were very ‘old school’ so anxiety, depression, mental health in genral wasn’t a topic of conversation. It wasn’t even a blip on the screen. We mainly only saw my mom’s parents for holidays. They seemed to want to keep their distance, not that I could blame them. Living with drug addiction is difficult and if you can just stay away from it why wouldn’t you?  
I couldn’t of course. It was thrust upon me against my will and there was no way out of my real life. So, I turned inside. My imagination. I would dream up elaborate stories of people whose lives were nothing like mine or I’d make up people who were just like me, who dealt with the same obstacles I had in my way and overcame them. Looking back now I remember a great deal of the trauma and the fear it evokes even to this day, but I remember the stories more. Then I got older, became a teenager and went through the feelings of inadequacy all teenagers feel, perhaps a bit more profound given my circumstances at home. By then my mother was not in my life leaving me with a dad who was still an addict, a drunk, and had a raging temper. My grandparents still tried their best, but they were older and could only do so much and my grandma was in and out of the hospital during that time. My imagination and dream world faded, and depression and anxiety hooked their nasty claws deep into me.  
At this point I had completely given up at school. I attended sometimes did homework none of the time. In my home drugs were not for mental health they were for recreation. So that’s what I did. I started sneaking my dad’s cigarettes and alcohol easily enough, then his weed, then his pills. He knew, he didn’t care unless I took drugs he had wanted to do. I was using all of these drugs to fill a void in me that felt like it would grow exponentially. They didn’t. The void was still there, worse even. By the time I was sixteen I was a high school dropout, bouncing from crappy job to crappy job, drinking, smoking, and doing drugs every day.  
I still didn’t know how to cope with what I was dealing with and so I started to self-harm. When my dad found out I was met with ridicule. An ‘Oh so you want to kill yourself?’ attitude. I didn‘t know how to explain why I did it. Oh, so you want to kill yourself? No but also yes. I didn’t want to kill myself, but I wished that I was dead, and I didn’t know how to deal with those emotions, that kind of pain. I was still a child really, even if I had the stress and worries of an adult with a job and bills, I was just a kid still. So, I would substitute the emotional pain with the physical and then the fact that I was hurting could make sense to me. But at sixteen/seventeen I wasn’t intellectually or emotionally equipped to express that.  
I floated through life like that for a long time not really caring because in my mind I didn’t see a future for myself. If you would have told twelve-year-old, sixteen-year-old, twenty-one-year-old, me that one day I'd be my age now, well I don’t know that they would have believed you. My depression was at the forefront during most of that time but my anxiety still lingered in other ways. Clinging to toxic and codependent relationships trying to validate my worth. Normal people had nightmares about axe wielding killers chasing them, my nightmares were waking up late for work and losing my job ensuring my homelessness. So, I would wake up and leave EXTRA early to be sure I was on time. I actually STILL do this. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-twenties that I actually started to address my mental health. I had known I had depression that was painfully obvious but even then, if you had asked me if I had anxiety, I’d have told you no. Looking back now I don't know how I didn't see it. Perhaps I was looking at the picture too close at the time.
Since the beginning of this journey for me I’ve been on and off a few different behavioral medications and mood stabilizers. Most helped, even if just a little, some didn’t, and then for a long time I didn’t take any. I was happy with where I was in my life. After everything I’d been through as a child and young adult, I felt like I had managed to do what the characters in my stories from my childhood had done. I’d gotten out, gotten through. I had finished beauty school and had a career that I loved. I wasn't self-medicating with drugs and alcohol, I finally felt secure and on a path that there was a future for and I was content, happy even. I would love for that to be the end and be able to say happily ever after but if anyone reading this deals with depression and anxiety then you know there’s no cure all. There’s always a chance of relapse and it's more likely than not.  
I went through a lot of things over the course of a few years. My dad dying of an overdose, a breakup with a long-term partner, coming out, a move, then another move, LOTS of uncertainty that had me spiraling into my depression and anxiety and I knew I needed to do something immediately or it was going to get bad quickly. That’s when I started talking to a therapist and we started trying some different meds. I’m not going to lie and say it was great right off the bat. It takes time to warm up to talking to someone about your deepest secrets and fears and you have to cycle through meds to figure out what works for you. After two years I talk to my therapist (who I LOVE) every two weeks and my psychologist (who’s also a wonderful person) every month. I’m on a trio of medications for depression, anxiety, and adhd that seem to be working for me right now and I’ve taken to writing stories again. Although now, instead of trying to insert myself into my stories to escape my present life I write to let out the pain from my past. 
So, was this always with me, would I have always come out to be this person with these fears that linger into adulthood no matter the path? Maybe, maybe not, I’ll never really know. One thing I can be certain of is that it was part of who I was then, it is part of who I am now, and it always will be but that’s okay because it's not ALL that I am. So, bask in the high points, cherish them, make lots of memories during them because a low point will come again. It may be easier than the last, maybe harder but there’s always a way back up, back out. Never forget. Never give up. 
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