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willowser · 9 months

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not to be so disgusting and gross about gojo on the dash but i think he's such a flirty, teasing idiot that, when you show him genuine and true affection, he goes all somber and quiet.

like you come up to him after dinner and stand on your tip-toes and hug him for no reason, give him a fat kiss on the cheek for no reason, and he just — lets you. doesn't say anything, just kind of hums and lightly places his hands on your hips, so gently you might not even know they're there. you tell him, "i love you, thank you for eating with me," and he presses his mouth to the top of your head, lips squished, and says it back, but there's no jokes, no teasing remarks. he just allows himself to be weak and to bask in it, for as long as he can.

#the only way to shut him up 😒#you're so open and honest with him and are placing your heart in his hands to hold and he's like HMM. SHOULD I BE TRUSTED TO HAVE THIS ?? 🥺#bc i think any relationships he has are very fun and quick and cat-and-mouse #so with you he's like. i dont think i should let myself get in too deep with this. just in case.#but he's ALSO LIKE. SATORU YOU WOULD BE SO STUPID TO LET THIS GO #WAAAHHH I HATE HIM how dare he make me feel things how DARE HE !!!!#✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: gojo

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canisalbus · 4 months

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Machete and Vasco are so pomegranate-and-the-hand-that-slices coded. To me.

Pomegranates are seen as messy, bloody, inconvenient fruits. You slice or tear or bite and in return for your effort you come away underwhelmed, disgusted, and stained too deep to wash. The consumption of a pomegranate is a violent act of defilement, for both the fruit and the eater.

But that is because most do not understand how to open a pomegranate. They have little patience for the precise carving. They see no point in coreing the fruit gently, no reason to be reverent as they pull the quarters apart. When done correctly, opening a pomegranate leaves little mess. Your fingers will still stain, your knife will still slick, but there will be no pool of crimson drowning both you and the fruit.

The seeds are only sweet to those who understand the merit of a light hand and intricate slicing. Why put in so much effort for a food so bitter and clearly armored against consumption? Surely it must not yearn to be eaten.

(^insane about silly catholic dogs)

#absolutely losing my mind over this #how dare you come to my house and deliver a poignant character analysis cloaked in metaphors and symbolism #I went all day thinking about pomegranates #doing late christmas shopping? pomegranates #glazing ham? pomegranates #watching futurama with siblings? pomegranates #they're still kind of an exotic fruit where I'm from and I only got around to trying one a handful of years ago #some fruits offer themselves readily but pomegranates are hard and resistant and require a bit more specific handling #I looked up a guide and even then the kitchen counter ended up a murder scene #I've gotten better but I know some people can open them very neatly and I still haven't figured out the right technique #I love you anon I love the fact that you've clearly been rotating my silly catholic dogs in your head #and are able to put your thoughts into words with such marvelous grace and eloquence #surely it must not yearn to be eaten UNFATHOMABLE #answered #anonymous #gift art #Vasco #Machete #pomegranates are canonically one of Machete's motifs/symbols but I never thought of them from this angle #at least not this extensively

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hoezier · 4 months

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There's something at the tip of my tongue about the parallels between Jackie and Wilson and Who We Are

How the narrator of Jackie and Wilson wants to run away with a woman that he's carved out of his imagination based on a brief interaction. How they would try the world, but good god it wasn't for them. So they run away from it into a fantasy world where they live by their own rules.

And then comes the narrator of Who We Are, who dreamt his whole life of finding someone who would hold him like water or like a knife, only to find that running away from the world will only get them so far, since "the hardest part is who we are". And only to find out that the "phantom life" he's fantasized about is actually just that: a phantom. And its absence sharpens like a knife

#hozier #sahar stfu about hozier #I'm aware that on the surface these songs are not really about the same thing #but there's something about the way that j&w narrator craves the fantasy he speaks of #that reminds me so much of the voice of Who We Are who thinks he realizes the fantasy only to watch it become a nightmare #and the contrast between the dream-fuelled lyrics of J&W that evoke daring adventures on the wide opened desert #and the sharp concise biting lyrics of who we are sung in tired resignation #and followed by near-wailing at the end #that just sticks out to me so much #it's like the whole of Unreal Unearth is just a sequence of the various voices of the self-titled album coming back #sometimes disillusioned #sometimes exhausted #sometimes resigned #sometimes wise #sometimes at peeace #sometime enraged #to sing about their most bitter disappointments and the harshest lessons they've learned over the years #and I can't stop thinking about it

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motianz · 2 months

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Do you guys ever think like, in the future He Tian is probably the one who knows more about high end clothing stores (bc let's be honest he wouldn't take Mo to normal stores) and he probably constantly gives Mo gifts from them so like

At some point Mo just looks at his clothes and is like, "Hey Ht don't you think clothes nowadays are really skimpy?"

And Ht just

"Idk honey, anyway here's another totally normal pair of pants that give me full access to your upper thights"

(Plus as many belts and straps as a person can possibly wear)

#thought about it after seeing that first official art again #mo guan shan was NOT the one to find that store #i love thinking that Mo grows into his style and choses more daring and confident clothes #but I also think its really funny to think of he tian just giving him several pairs of fully open pants #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #19 days

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revenantghost · 7 months

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These guys are being rereleased! The cheapest price I've seen so far that does global shipping is CDJapan, here's Vash and here's Wolfwood!

#Trigun #SOMEONE SEND ME $200 STAT #How DARE these rerelease now when I'm barely functioning and ca't even open commissions ):<#Anyway #Gonna share the best deals I can find so everyone who wants one can maybe get them #I WILL SHARE THE TRIGUN JOY!!!!!!!!

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esmeislewd · 5 months

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I'm just imagining getting led into a buffet on a leash and having it tied to one of the tables so I can't leave. Then having plate after plate brought to me, stuffing me without remorse and with no chance of escape. I'm not allowed to go until my partner is satisfied I've had enough, although by then I'm doubtful I'd be able to get up without help~

#esmes lood writings #obviously not in public ofc its impossible to get consent for overt kink stuff from the general public #maybe they should open feederism buffets or something where they ENSURE that any feedee or gainer that dares to enter gets a good stuffing~

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mightymizora · 5 months

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I just feel so passionately about Gale being absolutely excellent at pre-rehearsed romantic lines, planned romantic gestures, beautiful thoughtful gifts etc. but also being the sort of person who would accidentally insult your mother on a two hour long infodumping rampage, who would accidentally wound you to the core and not notice it or you being angry about it for a good day and yes, the sort of person who would see a crown of extreme power beyond most mortal reaches and fuck you with a far off look in his eye as he definitely thinks about himself in that crown the whole time

#it’s the autism and the low wis baybeee #dare I put this in the tags lmao #also you know my inbox is always open for any and all Gale opinions #giving and receiving thereof

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egot1stical · 7 months

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making the worst tumblr post ever and talking about winterkov. ONCE.

in canon i think they should never date (because simon is too sadsack) but instead have the worst one night stand ever.

listen; winter king is clearly down to fuck himself (definitely “i’d make a bunch of clones, i am pro clone-fucking”) but simon (“what if my clone is evil”/“i would not want to fuck my clone because my self loathing is THAT strong”) would need to be at the lowest point in his life or they’d both need to be absolutely shitfaced.

halfway through the episode they have extremely mediocre sex offscreen that winter king keeps insisting was really good and then simon feels really weird about his thousand year dry spell being broken by himself from another reality. he does not bring this up to fionna or cake at all. cake can sense it. in the b plot marshall and gary discuss if theyd fuck another universe’s version of themself.

the show then continues as normal except when he talks to (gol)betty she’s like omnipotent or something so halfway through the most dramatic conversation of their lives she’s like. “unrelated but im kind of jealous. i always wanted to fuck a clone of myself. how was it” and then simon unlocks shrimp emotions and after a minute of silence just says “it was okay” and then moves on

if you disagree. i don’t know what to tell you

#winterkov #simoncest #dare i maintag this?#Yeah #fionna and cake #my inbox is open to send me hatemail #simon petrikov #the winter king

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milksuu · 5 months

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i need Phel w like… a bad bitch reader… the kinda girl her fans would ask her to step on them… and i need him to be completely whipped and submissive for her

❥ prompt: So, here Aphelios was. Dragged to some grungy underground concert by Kayn. And since Ezreal was sick, guess that made him the stand in. He thought he was going to be bored out of his mind. He didn't realize he'd end up being a fanboy---your fanboy. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw 18+, minor blood, BDSM, name calling, bullying (affectionate), lotsa profanity, dom!reader ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!aphelios x badbitch!f!reader, aphelios & kayn ❥ performance song in this fic: Playground (From the Arcane League of Legends Series) - Bea Miller

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

That was one way to start a conversation, Aphelios thought. Usually, when a girl approached him, they were overly friendly and tooth-rottlingly sweet. To a sickening point at times. Too much was overwhelming for him, and he often got migraines from those interactions. He disliked the feeling of needing to reciprocate with the same intensity and niceties. He wasn't like Ezreal, who could entertain for hours with a charming smile and endless conversation. But this was the first time any girl cursed him out within the first millisecond of an exchange. Honestly, it was refreshing. And honestly, he kind of liked it.

He took a moment to look over his shoulder to check if, by chance, you were talking to someone else. He figured he was the only one out in the alleyway. And because of that, he couldn't recall staring at anyone. Although, he did tend to have a bad habit of 'resting bitch face'. Especially whenever he stared off into space. Just so happened to be in your general direction. He wasn't sure whether to call it bad luck or bad timing. Like the whole 'wrong place wrong time' situation. Either way, it was obvious his face and mere existence was pissing you off.

"I'm talking to you, dumbass. You with the stupid fucking headphones at a concert." Flicking your cigarette away, you encroached into his personal space. It forced him against a wall, with you mere inches away from his face. He could smell the burning smoke on your breath, lingering with a hint of spice and clove. "You got a problem, or what? If you do, then say it to my damn face."

That was comical. How could he tell you? Let's see, he reached to take his phone out. You scuffed and snatched it from his hands. "What the hell are you going to do? Call your mommy to come help you?" You mocked him by dangling his cell in his face. So much for that idea. Now what was he supposed to do? He needed to create some distance. Catch you off guard, and for you to react accordingly. Well, with all things considered. He tugged down his mask, and captured your lips. Red ignited your vision. You sank your canines viscously into his bottom lip and smashed his phone against his chest. He tasted liquid metal on his tongue, and felt the reset of his diaphragm. It took a deathly minute for him to fill his chest with air. He swore even if he could talk, that stunt would've shut him up for life. So, yeah. More or less what he expected.

"You sick freak." With a hiss, you spat a mixture of saliva and blood at his shoe. He watched you storm off, fading back into the dark venue and strobing lights. Leaving him with iron in his mouth, yearning for oxygen, and his heart recklessly pounding inside him. And holy shit, did he want more of it.

"What the hell. Did something happen out there?" When he returned Kayn took hold of his shoulder, and spoke at the side of his face. "There's blood on your mask. Do I need to kick somebody's ass here?" Aphelios didn't consider how badly his lip had been busted by your teeth. The pain was subtle compared to the wild thrill he received. And whenever he felt the sting with a brush of his tongue, the thought of you only came to mind. He shook his head, pantomiming how he bit into his own lip by accident. Kayn scrunched his face, but accepted the excuse by taking a long swig of his drink. When the lights dimmed, Kayn smacked at his chest excitedly. Aphelios almost bent over from the aching bruise you left against his sternum. "It's happening. LET'S FUCKING GO!"

The crowd shook the warehouse with roars. Fog spilled across the stage. Red lights poured down. And there you were. Like Hell's chosen ascendent, bound in black leather and succubus fashion. Your voice induced a hypnotism. The lights strobing with each bass beat of your song. The crowd spellbound, wailing and screaming for you to salvage them. But you were their obvious harbinger who would drag them straight to the pits of the underworld. Where they could never escape you. Forever trapped in your playground. And that's exactly where he wanted to be.

Going wide-eyed, Aphelios felt you within in his pulse. His bottom lip throbbing endlessly. He wasn't expecting to have a good time. He wasn't expecting you. He watched as you strutted to the end of the stage, planting your eight-inch heels against the faces of a few audiences members begging to be crushed. He could tell you had no problem delivering them pain, just as you did with him. He never understood the sensation, until tonight.

When the song ended, the crowd settled down for you to say a few words. Swinging your hair out of your mascaraed lashes, you took a swig from your water bottle. "You know guys. I love that you're all here. Thanks for coming out to see me. Feels awesome, really." You breathed heavily into the microphone. "But there's one person I want to give a special shout out to—for being an absolute fucking dickhead. Lights. Over there. Please and thank you." With a snap of your fingers, you pointed straight out into the crowd. Apehlios might as well had a gun pointed to his head. That finger burned a straight hole into his forehead. A spotlight swung over him, until it beamed down like his final day of reckoning.

Kayn snapped his neck going back and forth between you two. He then snatched his elbow, shaking him ruthlessly. "Wait. You're telling me I have to kick her ass? You know—my future fucking girlfriend?" Aphelios noticed there were a lot of fucks to be had with him tonight.

"Yeah. You. Still wearing those dumbass headphones. Tell your pink-haired girlfriend he can't save you. Because your mine after the show tonight." You signaled for the next song to come on, and the crowd went into a tidal wave of screams and wails.

"How the hell am I the girlfriend!?" Kayn yelled into the abyss of concert noise. "And what does my future wife want with you!?" Aphelios merely shrugged. But when his bottom lip pulsed again....he knew exactly what he was getting from you.

"Since you felt like you had the balls to kiss me, I should take them from you. See you try pulling that shit again."

That was one way to flirt with him, Aphelios thought. And he was being liberal with the definition. Threats against his privates never appealed to him before. But when those threats poured from your lips, they sounded like all the things he ever wanted to hear in his whole damn life. Up till now, everything felt rehearsed, repetitive, predictable-- mind numbingly boring. But with you, that wasn't going to be the case. That was obvious by his placement in your hotel room. Hands secured above his head, back arched, and wrists bound by leather stirrups hanging from the ceiling.

"You have one of the bitchiest faces I've ever seen. Bitchier than mine, maybe." The room was dark. He carefully eyed your silhouette approaching him. Aphelios swallowed hard when your hand took his balls in a choke hold. "Let's see how long it takes for me to break it. And if I can't..." With a quick release, you ran the length of a finger up his stiffening shaft. "I'll let you fuck me. Deal?"

Aphelios shuddered an exhale, nodding slowly. This was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever have to pull off...no pun intended. Assessing his own threshold, he knew he might not make it. But to any dog, a treat was still a treat. And he would take what he could get get. Or in this case, earn.

"I'll tell you how this is going to work." Your fingers left his tip, trialed up his stomach, till they rested in the middle of his bare chest. "If you want to tap out, make this sign with your left hand. Got it?" You singed one hand, while the other pressed into that lovely bruise you gifted him in the alleyway. The ache elicited a soft groan. "I asked if you got it." You pressed harder for confirmation. With a rattle in his restraints, he made the gesture. "Good. Looks like you're not a total dumbass."

Abandoning him briefly, he heard something crack in the dark. The scent of leather permeating the hotel air. He felt the material grace his back side, fluttering to his ass. One tap. Two tap. This was his only and final warning. If he wanted out, now was the time. He furrowed his brow, and licked his aching bottom lip. No—he wanted this. A whip to the air and the first strike landed. His whole body contracted as he held back a gasp. Settling to a low groan, it wasn't long till the next one came, then the next, and the next. Every strike hitting and harder. The crop whistling in his ears each time it came for his bare ass and thighs. His breaths turned sharp, sweat accumulated against his pale skin, and his fingers scratched the insides of his palms. After the 50th strike, his ass and thighs were on fire. But all those hormones produced to cope with the pain began to inch him into a subspace he had never reached before. Not to mention, all the hand strokes and squeezes to his dick in between the pain— it was absolutely mind fucking.

"Wow. I'm impressed. You've lasted longer than any of my other toys. You really are a sick freak." Arousal mixed with your half-talk and half-laughter. This was the first time anyone has earned you. And now, you were going to make him wish he'd never met you. "Are you ready to fuck the cum right out of you?"

Holy shit. Thank God he couldn't talk. Nothing would be making sense if he could. Wait, what did you ask him again? No, seriously. He couldn't think straight. The excessive amounts of oxytocin pumping into his brain diluted all his thoughts. When he didn't respond right away, you snatched his face, digging your nails into his cheeks. "I asked you a question, dumbass." That was quickly becoming his favorite insult. You dragged your lips, tongue and teeth across his busted lip. Hypersensitive at this point, that was almost enough to send him. Focus—shit—okay. He remembered, and nodded desperately between your breathy open-mouthed kisses.

He was lucky the bed was behind him. Once he was freed from his restraints, it didn't take much but a finger push from you for him to collapse back. The cold comforters contrasted his burning skin, almost like he dived into an ice bath. He really had this sense he was burning up. Woozy from all the endorphins and adrenaline pumping through him, all the way down to his twitching cock—begging for release. But he felt stuck in a bodily stasis, an erotic paralysis. All he could do was stare up at the melting ceiling, panting for breaths. "You're not fucking anything like this. Awe, what a shame." There was no remorse in your wicked smile as you removed your undergarments. "Deals off. Looks like I'm fucking you instead." He barely processed the meaning of your words until you straddled on top, pushed one of his thighs up, and plunged yourself down on him.

The shock of you taking his whole cock in one swift motion made him choke out a cry of ecstasy. Each of your thrusts were splitting him in two; one of pain and pleasure. His ass and thighs stinging and swelling with heat form all the welts you left on his skin. Rubbing against the cotton covers, rubbing against you. His dick swallowed and squeezed by your pounding cunt, over and over again. With the sound of your drenched pussy slapping hard against his base. He was dragged to an intoxicating edge. To a point where his eyes glossed over pleadingly, his face flushed and saliva streamed from the corners of his trembling mouth. "There it is. Finally broke that bitchy face of yours," he heard you moan, mocking how much of a shameful mess he was.

One more forceful slam of your tight warmth, and pleasure ripped through him, tearing him into unmendable pieces. Every single vein within his body tightened and coiled. Flushing all his insides hot and white. His cock pulsed and throbbed so deep inside you. He cried against his moans, heaving and shuddering. He prayed he would make it through his climax. Lucky for him, he did. Unlucky for him, you weren't finished, and were milking him for all he was worth. The tip of his dick feeling like pins a needles, forcing his back to arch and buck his hip against the extreme sensation. He vaguely heard you curse him out one more time as your walls clamped around him, pushing some of his load down his shaft and onto his pelvis. When the two of you settled, he shivered as you pulled yourself out and reached over him to take something from the nightstand.

"So—" You started, lighting a smoke and taking a long drag. The scent of clove and spice filling the space. "You free or what next week?" Well, that was one way to ask him on a date, Aphelios thought. Not that he needed much convincing to free up his schedule. He considered himself a fanboy—your fanboy.

an: you wanted a bad bitch anon, you got her. thanks for the req. MWUAH.

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #aphelios #aphelios x reader #league of legends #reader insert #x reader #request #reqs open #istg all of you in my inbox want to dom this man #yall are aphelios dommy mommys #dont you dare lie to me #look what youve done to this poor boy #GO TO CHURCH

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