#They would be there for the other without demanding him to change

[lxndonorris]

such a tease - Max Verstappen

Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smut (you've been warned) helping Max change after the Chinese GP, appreciating how good he looks in his racing suit and without x word count: 3570+ taglist: @game-set-canet EN: I had to use this picture, it lives rent free, got another for CL and LN planned, if you have any requests for others, let me know. Its my longest yet I think. Hope you like it. We need more body worshipping Max imo.

As you stood in the vibrant atmosphere of the Shanghai International Circuit, your heart raced with anticipation. It wasn't just any other day; it was the Chinese Grand Prix, and Max Verstappen, the love of your life, was poised to dominate the track.

As the lights dimmed and the engines roared to life, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. With each passing lap, you watched Max weave his magic, his driving prowess on full display for the world to see.

The tension mounted as the race unfolded, but Max remained unfazed, his determination unwavering as he led the others around each corner and each straight. Lap after lap, he danced with danger, his skill and precision leaving you in awe.

And then, as the checkered flag waved in the air, declaring Max the victor, you felt a swell of pride wash over you. You made your way toward the pitwall, just in time to catch him emerging from his Red Bull race car. 

Max's energy and excitement were infectious as he cheered loudly before he turned to meet your gaze. In one swift motion, he approached you and the rest of his team, hugging you tightly.

With a radiant smile gracing his features, Max held his throphy aloft on the podium, the golden light of victory illuminating his face. Dressed in his racing suit, adorned with the colors of his team, he looked every bit the champion he is.

As you watched from the stands, your heart overflowed with admiration for the man you loved. His determination, his dedication, and his unwavering pursuit of excellence were on full display for the entire racing world to see. And in that moment, amidst the cheers and the applause, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky to be by his side.

While Max soaked in the adulation of the crowd, his eyes found yours in the sea of faces, a silent acknowledgement of your unbreakable bond. And as he raised a hand in salute, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever.

As the press conference unfolded, you noticed Max's gaze constantly finding yours amidst the sea of flashing cameras and eager reporters. His smirk, subtle yet unmistakable, sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

With every question fielded, his eyes lingered on yours, and as he spoke, his hand subconsciously drifted to his chest and thighs, a gesture that seemed to amplify his magnetic charm.

Watching him, so effortlessly captivating and utterly beautiful, a rush of adoration swell within you. You knew how he felt right now—the excitement and adrenaline of the race lingering deep inside him, and the desire to share this moment with you and you alone. 

For just anyone, this seemed unimportant, but you knew that with every stroke, every little move of his fingertips, he imagined it was you instead.

As the conference drew to a close, Max's haze met yours once more, and with a knowing smirk, he got up from the sofa. Together, you made your way through the paddock to his motorhome.

Now inside the cozy confines of his motorhome, Max wastes no time grabbing a cold can of Red Bull from the fridge, his go-to source of energy and focus. With a deft twist of his wrist, he cracks open the can, the satisfying hiss of carbonation filling the air.

Taking a long sip of the invigorating drink, Max's expression softens, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his features.

Turning to you, his eyes sparkle with a mix of exhilaration and contentment. Despite the intensity of the race and the demands of the press conference, he still manages to look effortlessly hot in his racing attire, clad in his sleek racing suit and signature cap.

As he stands before you, radiating confidence and charm, his presence fills the room. You let your eyes roam all over him: his racing suit hugs his athletic frame, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tines of the motorhome's interior. Paired with his cap, adorned with the logo of his team, he looks every bit the part of racing superstar.

With a playful grin, Max extends the can of Red Bull towards you, inviting you to share his post-race ritual with him.

Taking it from him, you marvel at the warmth of his touch, the electricity that seems to crackle between you. And as you take a sip of the Red Bull, you enjoy the cold, refreshing liquid running down your throat.

With an hour until his next interview, you put the can down on the table next to you before turning back to meet Max's gaze right away.

With a confident swagger in his step, Max closes the distance again. One arm wrapped securely around your waist, he pulls you close, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Steadying yourself against him, you can't help but be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His proximity is electrifying; his scent, a mixture of his cologne, sweat, and champagne, fills your senses as he leans closer, his lips grazing against your ear.

"Care to lend a hand?" he whispers, his voice husky with desire. His playful tone sends a surge of heat coursing through you, and you play along, relishing in the teasing banter.

With a playful smirk, you nod in response, your fingers trailing lightly along the contours of his racing suit as you begin to assist him in changing.

The adrenaline from today's race still surges through his veins, and his whole body tenses with the remnats of the high-octane action on the track. Despite the exhaustion that threatened to set in, there is a raw energy emanating from him.

You stroke his chest firmly through his racing suit; every muscle in his body seems to be coiled like a tightly wound spring, ready to unleash its power at a moment's notice. The fabric hugs his frame flawlessly, accentuating his athletic build and adding an air of intensity to his already striking appearance.

His eyes, ablaze with the remnants of the fierce competition, hold a magnetic allure that is impossible to resist. There is a primal energy to him, a wildness that sets your heart racing and your pulse quickening with every passing moment.

As your hands glide across Max's chest, tracing the contours of his racing suit, you feel the tension in his body gradually give way to a sense of relaxation. Enjoying how the sleek fabric feels underneath your fingertips, you stroke him even firmer, causing him to purr happily.

You let your hands run along his waistline as well, feeling his butt filling out the suit fully. Your hands are now freely encompassing all of him, from the small of his back, running along his spine and back around his shoulders, to his firm chest.

"That feels good." His smile widens as he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet gentle on your waist, a clear invitation to continue.

With each stroke, you sense the pleasure building within him, the sensation of your touch heightening the electric connection between you. His racing suit, once a barrier between you, now serves as a conuit for your intimacy, amplifying the intensity of your shared desire.

Max leans, his lips brushing over your neck and your ear, before he lets out a low, guttural moan, giving you goosebumps.

"Mhmm." You shiver as your hands gilde over his thick pecs and right his arms. As your fingers trail along Max's muscular arms, stroking the sinewy contours underneath his suit, he responds with a subtle flex, the muscles beneath his skin rippling with power.

He leans his head back, and with a knowing smile, he invites you to feel the strength of his arms. 

As you press your hands against his flexed biceps, you marvel at the firmness of his form, the raw energy simmering just beneath the surface. His muscles tense under your touch, a silent invitation to explore further to revel in the sensation of his strength.

With each flex, you feel a surge of excitement coursing through you, the heat of desire building with every second. Max's body is a canvas of power and grace, a testament to his relentless pursuit of perfection, both on and off track.

And as you continue to stroke him, tracing the contours of his arms with reverence and awe, you can't help but be captivated by the sheer beauty of his physicality.

"Oh, fuck." You speak quietly, watching your fingers run along his arms and back to his chest. As your gaze meets his once more, a knowing smirk plays on his lips, and he lowers his arms just to grab your waist again, securely holding you in place.

"Feels good, huh?" He licks his lips as his gentle fingers run along your waistline.

"Oh, yeah." You respond with a coy smirk forming on your lips, and then you let your hand run up his chest and right to the collar of his slick racing suit.

As you toy with the zipper of his suit, teasing him with the promise of what lies beneath, you can't help but revel in the power of your own arousal. The sight of Max, so strong and commanding yet vulnerable in his desire, stirs something primal within you, igniting a fire that burns with ferocious intensity.

And you tease him with the zipper while looking right into his sparkling eyes. You alternate between gentle caresses and playful tugs, causing a low, deep rumbling in his throat.

The firmness of his form beneath the fabric carries an intoxicating allure, pulling you closer and closer.

As you unzip his suit slowy, teasingly, you reveal the snug white fireproofs underneath, and a low growl escapes his lips, a primal sound of desire and anticipation. With his head leaning back, he surrenders to the sensations, his body tensing beneath your touch.

Sliding your hands inside his suit, you feel the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric, the firmness of his muscles, even more evident now, inviting your touch. 

With each stroke, you apply just the right amount of pressure, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from Max as he arches into your touch. His breaths come in shallow gasps, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in the space between you. 

And as you continue to stroke him, your movements growing bolder and more confident with each passing second, you feel the arousal within you intensifying as well, matching the intensity of his own desire.

With a shared determination, Max and you work together to remove the upper half of his racing suit, leaving the sleeves hanging down his waist. As the fabric falls away, his muscles are revealed, defined, and taut beneath the thin material of his undergarments.

Each contour is accentuated by the tight fabric, a testament to the physical strength and endurance required of a Formula 1 driver.

Unable to restrain the urge to touch him or feel him, you place both of your hands on his chest again. With every touch, every stroke, Max lets out a low, primal growl of pleasure. 

His grip on your waist intensifies as well, as he starts to stroke you in response. This spurs you on, fanning the flames already burning inside your belly, encouraging them to engulf your entire chest with burning desire.

Your hands explore the planes of his chest and the curves of his abdomen. The sensation of his muscles rippling beneath your fingertips only fuels your desire further, each growl serving as a symphony of passion between you.

Running your hands up Max's chest and neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your hand, you trace the outline of his lips with your thumb, a teasing question poised on your lips.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" You ask, a playful glint in your eyes.

Max's response is a simple nod, his expression softening as he meets your gaze. The tension that gripped his features now melts away, replaced by a look of pure contentment and desire.

With a mischievous grin, you reach up and remove his cap, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. His messy hair spills out from beneath, tousled and tousled from the excitement of the race. Running your fingers through his hair, you marvel at the softness, the strands tangling around your fingertips like silk.

Leaning in closer, you caress his cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath your touch. His skin is warm and smooth, in stark contrast to the rough texture of his racing suit.

At the same time, you keep stroking his tummy, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs with your other hand. The look in his eyes, dark with desire, tells you that he is enjoying every moment of the exquisite torture.

You let your hand wander even further down his body, and you gasp once your hand encompasses the desire bulding up inside his racing suit. In response, Max lets out a low sigh and starts to grind his hips against the palm of your hand.

Your eyes meet his, and the two of you smirk knowingly.

With practiced ease, Max slips off his shoes, the tension in the room palpable as he stands before you, his clothes clinging to his form.

As the racing suit falls to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment, your eyes trace the outlines of his body, mesmerized by the sight before you.

Max stands tall and proud, his muscles defined and toned beneath his tight fireproofs. The fabric is hugging his form like a second skin, and unlike the racing suit, it is unable to hide any of his features. 

His muscles ripple underneath, his biceps are thick with tension, just like his entire chest and thighs. The unmistakable bulge forming inside his trousers shows the effect all that teasing has on him, and Max isn't even trying to hide it.

Instead, he rubs the palm of his hand across his member while biting his lower lip and watching you closely. Still, you're not done teasing him yet.

Placing your hands back on his firm chest, you continue to stroke Max through his undergarments, eliciting a chorus of enticing sounds from his throat. With each touch, each stroke, the desire threatens to consume you both.

Max responds eagerly to your touch, pulling you closer until there is barely any space between you. His hands, once idle at my sides, now roamed freely, exploring every curve and contour of my body with a fervent hunger.

Feeling his hands on your butt, pulling you flush against him, sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you. The sensation of his touch is all-consuming, setting your skin ablaze with longing and need.

You suddenly can't wait to feel his bare skin under your fingertips. Tugging greedily at his shirt, you expose the hard lines of his abs. Responding to your need, he takes his shirt off in one swift motion, exposing his beautiful, toned chest.

Just like before, you stroke him and play with his hard nipples, just the way he likes it. His skin is so warm, tensed, yet oddly soft. His muscles react to the simplest touch, and you know he's longing for so much more.

Your eyes follow his hand, stroking himself, his chest, abs, and then further down to his member, tenting visibly. Max is letting out low growls, pressing his body against yours while biting his lips.

"Let me take care of that." You smirk and kiss him lovingly before you make your way down his chest. With every stroke, his breathing quickens, and you place kisses all over his chest, down his abs until you're on your knees.

Max runs a hand through his hair and across his face. His entire being is craving a release, to let go of all this pleasure and desire building up inside him.

Teasingly, you trace the outlines of his member with two fingers, causing him to moan quietly. Then, you slip your fingers inside his pants. As you play with the waistband, teasingly tugging at the fabric, Max's reaction is immediate; a low groan escapes his lips as he leans into your touch, his desire palpable against your fingertips. 

With each playful tug, his arousal grew, the fabric of his fireproofs stretching against the swell of his desire, its heat radiating through his clothes.

There is no room for restraint or hesitation. Both of you are consumed by the fire of your shared passion.

You pull his pants down and let your hands roam all over his thighs before you focus all of your attention on his dick.

As you take him inside your mouth, your entire body gets just as stiff as he is, and right away, Max lets out multiple low moans, leaning his head back while running a hand through your hair, encouraging you to take it all.

Easily, the two of you adapt to each other's movements, moving in sync with one another to an unseen, unheard rhythm.

Max moves deliberately, soft and gentle, even though he is already on the verge of cumming. All that teasing, paired with the excitement of winning today's race, dominating the entire grid, built up inside him, just waiting for this moment.

It doesn't take long for him to lean his head back even further and let out an exhausted, long moan.

His familiar taste spreads across your tongue, causing you to relish in that moment.

Max runs a hand through your hair as you separate yourself from him. He bends down, placing a hand at your neck, stroking you with his fingertips. 

"That felt so good." He moans as he leans in to kiss you gently. Then, he helps you get up and steadies you against his firm frame. 

"It was amazing." You lick your lips, savoring the taste still lingering on your tongue.

Max then steps out of his fireproofs, leaving them pooled at his feet. He stands before you, completely exposed, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see.

He touches himself a few times, still feeling that pleasure running through his veins, and you can't help but smile.

As you watch Max get dressed again, your gaze lingers on every movement, captivated by the effortless grace with which he moves. 

He starts by slipping into a fresh pair of underwear, the fabric clinging snugly to his form. Max struggles a little with his stiff member, but that just makes the two of you giggle.

"Always the same with you." You tease, but he just shrugs.

"I can't help it." He tilts his head slightly. "That's what you're doing to me." 

Rolling your eyes, you can't help but giggle again.

Next, he pulls on a pair of jeans, the denim hugging his legs in all the right places. With each movement, the tension in the room seems to grow again, amplifying the allure of his every gesture.

Finally, Max reaches for his signature Red Bull shirt, the fabric stretching tautly across his firm chest and shoulders. Even though it is a familiar sight, the shirt seems to fit him even more perfectly than usual, accentuating every contour of his muscular frame.

As he smoothes down the fabric, adjusting the shirt just so, you can't help but reach out for his chest once more. 

You run a hand over Max's red Bull shirt, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric. A shiver of excitement exhoes through you.

Your soft strokes elicit another guttural rumble deep from within his throat, and he places his hand on top of yours. The fabric of his shirt stretches and molds to the contours of his body, flattering him perfectly.

His familiar scent envelopes you again, filling the air with an intoxicating aroma that is uniquely his own. It is a scent you know and love—a blend of musk and sweat mixed with the subtle hint of his favorite cologne.

"Do I smell okay?" He asks suddenly, and you just nod.

"Yeah, so good." You smile and lean in to him, kissing him deeply while still stroking his chest through his tight shirt.

As you pick up the discarded clothes from the floor, you can't help but revel in the sensation of Max's racing suit and fireproofs between your fingers. The fabric is so soft yet sturdy.

As the two of you fold the garments neatly, you notice how they still retain the faint scent of Max—a scent that fills you with a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, his touch gentle yet possessive, you melt into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his presence. His hand strokes your tummy with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter, each caress sending waves of pleasure through you.

Turning around to face him, you are greeted by the sight of Max in his signature look, his cap firmly in place, and a playful glint in his eyes. Despite the intensity of the day, he is ready for the next challenge, his confidence unwavering as he prepares for the next interview.

With a smile, you reach up and adjust his cap, making sure it is perfectly aligned. Max grins in response, a silent acknowledgement of your unspoken bond.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You think you remember. Or at least you’ve convinced yourself that you do.

You go through the painstaking steps as the dark presence looms across the counter. The man walks along, just on the other side of the machines as you steam the milk. Toffee nut, yes, you’re pretty sure that was it.

You put it all together, step by step, hands shaking. Your lips move as you talk yourself through your work silently. You can do this. You still feel how the man scratched you through your shirt when he grabbed you, your skin fiery.

You give one last look to the foam and send a prayer up to whatever deity will hear it. You slowly move to the till and place the cup down. You wet your lips and clear your throat.

“Almond, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” you declare, voice quavering as you stare at the bristle across the man’s upper lip. “Mr. Hansen.”

He clucks and leans on the counter, hooking one foot behind the other. He wraps his hand around the cup and slides it closer to himself. He stares down into as you fidget. You glance around at the baked goods.

“And a cinnamon bun?” You suggest but before you can carry through on the offer, a splash of liquid washes over you, hot despite the layer of steamed milk.

“Oat milk,” he crushes the empty cup in his large hand and throws it at your face. You sputter and blink as the foam drips down your cheeks.

“Sorry, sir, I’ll make it again.”

“Fucking right, you will, sweet lips,” he growls and stands straight, crossing his arms.

You pull the bottom of your apron up and wipe your face. You bend to pick up the empty cup and turn away. Your eyes sting and you wiggle your tingling nose. It’s fine. You can do this.

Oat, half blond, half regular, toffee nut, cinnamon on top. The smell of espresso and syrup clings to you as you make the death march back to the till. You set the cup down without a word.

Mr. Hansen, Lloyd, the boss, whatever he is, considers you as he lifts the drink and examines the careful leafy art in the foam. He turns it and inhales the scent, some of the foam catching in his mustache. He takes a breath as if about to dive into water and has a taste. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. He hums. Does he like it?

Splash.

Another searing dousing and you stand there with a gasp, shaking off the dredge of his displeasure.

“Mr. Hansen, I--”

“First thing’s first. Shut the fuck up. You talk too much,” he tosses the cup. Bonk, right off your forehead. “Second, I changed my mind. Get me a mocha. Extra whip.”

You nod and keep your head down. You pick up the cup and stand, nearly slipping in the puddle around your feet. You dispose of the empty cup and go to the coffee machine. You begin your new task, hands clumsy and trembling. You add the whipped cream and return to the till. You put the cup down and grab onto the counter to keep from sliding through the liquid at your soles.

He lifts it and you wince, bracing for another deluge. He repeats the same deliberate examination. You swallow tightly as he samples your work. This time he doesn’t make a noise. As he lowers the cup, you flinch and take a step back.

He cackles, “relax, cupcake.”

You stare at him grimly. You flick your lashes and blow out your nerves. You hide your shaking hands behind you.

“Now you know who the fuck I am,” he says, “clean yourself up and get back to work.”

He grabs a package of the cookies along the small shelf beside the till then turns on his heel and struts to the door. You watch after him, damp and dripping. As the door opens and closes, you turn to face the mess. You sigh and go to grab the mop; you can clean the floor but you can’t do much for yourself.

You work at soaking up the excess then spray cleaner on the floor and wipe with paper towel to prevent it from getting sticky. As you work at sopping up the errant droplets from the counter, the door behind you swings open. You glance over your shoulder as Bre sweeps through.

“Alright, your turn--” She stops short as you face her. “What happened?” Her face slackens with dread and shock, “what did you do?”

“It was Mr. Jansen—Hansen,” you correct yourself, “he came by and--”

“I told you not to talk to him,” she hisses.

“I... I didn’t have a choice. He wanted a drink and--”

“Fuck. Fuck! What did he say? What did he do?” She snaps.

You recoil at her accusatory tone, “he... he threw coffee in my face? He took some cookies? I don’t know? He just... said now I know who he is. I didn’t really understand--”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”

You frown and cross your arms, “I’m sorry, Bre, I did my best--”

“Not good enough. You think it’s all fun and games. It’s not. That man is dangerous. Not just here, everywhere,” she shakes her head, “you’ll see. Out there, on your own. Give me your apron.”

“What?” You murmur.

“Get out. I’ll call Maurice and let him know it didn’t work out.”

“What? No, you can’t--”

“I am. Give me your apron. Now.”

You pout and sniffle. You reach back behind you and unlace the apron and lift it over your head. You hold it out to her, “it’s wet--”

“Just go.”

You hang your head and turn away. Your eyes begin to stream before you even get through the door. You grab your stuff from the backroom and give one last look around. You got fired. What are you going to do?

You fold your jacket over your arm and sling your bag from your shoulder. You let yourself out into the alley and head down to the street. You stop at the end and cover your face, sniveling behind your hands as you lean on the brick. You don’t want to go back home. You only just got there.

“Whatsa matter, sweet lips?” The low drawl is followed by a loud slurp, “bad day?”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the man #au #drabble #mob au #series

[ladyempty]

Yan! Maegor Targaryen x Wife!Reader

° | !English is not my first language!|

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

You were certainly a cursed woman for arousing the almost immediate interest of the cruel king after his bloodthirsty ascension to the throne.

Maegor already had three wives at that time, two wives he liked and one he despised with increasing hatred.

But you were different, it was an overwhelming feeling that caught you off guard in the first contacts.

There was something fascinating to the king in his every little gesture and movement. Her so easily adorable personality and impeccable looks.

So this was love? This flame that burns without being seen? That feeling he despised when bards sang softly on banquettes and celebrations, and now it had taken over his body.

Already convinced of the strength of his feelings, the king did not delay in a proper court, he thought he had already made his obvious interest clear. The king's way of showing interest was something... Peculiar... Certainly constantly chasing you, ordering guards to follow you and always so fixedly analyzing your slightest movement, it wasn't the most gallant way.

In any case, the engagement was not long in consideration, with Maegor coldly threatening you father:

"I will have your hand beheaded or I will have your daughter's hand in marriage" His tone was as cold as the blade of his sword held firmly at his hip.

The wedding was only in Valerian traditions, the king's warm crimson blood mingling with his own and the taste of copper on his lips.

Maegor would never stoop to marrying in the faith of the seven. An action that only caused more chaos and anger from the religious.

The wedding night was certainly not a fairy tale. The king was focused on creating an heir and finally freely exploring his body. His touches were rough, strong and not at all gentle.

You better not consider moontea...

As a husband, Maegor is not the kindest. His displays of affection are not delicate and he does not demonstrate his love through words at all.

But compared to his treatment of other people, he is much softer on you.

He will still punish you if you disobey his numerous and strict rules.

Jealous and possessive are an understatement to describe feelings and behavior. You are His in every aspect of the word. Your body and soul belong to him and him alone. And not even his other wives have the right to take their You attention away from him. Your world should revolve around him the same way his world revolves around you.

Maegor is simply crazy about you, he loves you in a way he's never loved anyone else, even if it was in a distorted way, he doesn't want anyone to get close to you, touch you or even breathe and look in your direction. Anyone who approaches you will regret it bitterly when the blade of your sword pierces the person's neck without mercy.

He admired strength... But you couldn't get hurt, he liked your bravery, but there is no way he will allow you to get hurt. Never.

Maegor will not change your reason if you don't trust him. He will even think you are smart. For a while. After your patience runs out, he will simply demand your complete trust in him.

"I am your lord husband, who is more deserving of your trust than me?"

And things only got worse after Alys's deformed stillbirth...

Tyanna's whispers in her ear about infidelity and the child being nothing more than a bastard only served to increase her paranoia. The mere thought of you cheating on him was enough to make him simply lose his mind.

He imprisoned you in your private chambers, no one was allowed to enter unless authorized by the king. Guards guarded the door to his quarters.

Then, in an act of desperation, Maegor took three wives at once. But all three had deformed stillbirths just like Alys… Tyanna had lied and the king simply didn't know what else to do. He was desperate for the first time in his life.

But like a ray of light... Were you pregnant? For the first time in almost decades... Maegor smiled widely.

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #yandere maegor targaryen #Yandere Maegor Targaryen x Reader #Maegor Targaryen x Reader #Maegor Targaryen #house Targaryen #house targaryen

[bumblesimagines]

you haven't changed a bit.

do you ever think about what happened between us?

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

Donna Sheridan

you haven't changed a bit.

do you ever think about what happened between us?

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

"Where the hell did Laz put it? Jesus." You hissed quietly under your breath, back aching from the time you spent crouched or bent over searching for the damn bottle of whiskey Lazaros had hidden for his own personal use after his mother had forbidden him from drinking in front of customers, not that the bar got any, to begin with, given Lazaros... unique singing and Sophia's often stern nature. "Next time I see him, I'm gonna-"

"(Y/N)! I've been looking everywhere for you, boy! Come meet our new singer." Sophia's voice sliced through the air, demanding and attention-grabbing as always, prompting you to flinch and lift your head only to slam right into the underside of the counter.

"Ow, fuck-"

"Language, (Y/N)." Sophia tsked as you properly wiggled out from under the counter and straightened up, one hand rubbing the sore spot on the back of your head. You heaved a sigh and spun on your heel, eyes drifting over the rather empty bar while you made your way to the end of the counter and finally took in the new singer. 

And she seemed just as surprised as you.

"(Y/N)?" A breathless, surprised, and giddy laugh escaped her as her eyes widened into saucers, the jaw-dropped look almost comical. You stared back at her in silence, your mind trying to piece together how your spunky ex from college managed to find you on a semi-remote Greek island. Donna moved first, practically throwing herself over the counter to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "I can't believe you're here! In Kalokairi, of all places! I mean, I know you mentioned you wanted to travel around Greece but I never expected the first place I visited to be where you were staying!"

"You know each other?" Sophia questioned, one brow arched as she watched Donna wiggle off the counter and plant her feet firmly back on the floor. Donna nodded excitedly in return, brushing some of her loose curls away from her face and laughing again. 

"Yeah! We, uh.. dated briefly in college and then... (Y/N) graduated and..." Donna trailed off, her fingers toying with a ring on her hand. Her teeth dug down into her bottom lip, a dejected look briefly appearing in her eyes. "We broke off. Totally mutual." She assured Sophia with a forceful laugh and you winced when you caught the squinty-eyed look Sophia shot your way.

"Good, good. This means you'll get along, right? That's good." Sophia pursed her lips, the look in her eye telling you that you'd receive an earful later. Donna had a way of making people like her, making them care for her. It seemed her charms even wormed their way into the stern, always straight-faced Sophia. "Feel free to warm up on the stage. I'm sure my son is... somewhere around here." 

"Oh, Laz went to see if Korianna would take him back. Again. With the whole band." 

"Ugh, God," Sophia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose and heading toward the back doors to retrieve her son from his ex's porch again. You watched her go, withholding the urge to snort until she was out of earshot and out the door. Turning back to Donna, you licked your lips and cleared your throat.

"Uhm... I'm sure you know your way around here. The band will be back soon but, as Sophia said, you can warm up in the meantime. I'm sure you'll bring in customers without them, though." You offered her a smile and glanced over your shoulder, eyeing the selection of drinks you could offer her. "Do you want a beer? Wine? Ouzo?"

"Maybe later." Donna dismissed with a wave of her hand, her brown eyes slowly raking over you. "You... you look really good. I'm happy for you. I never thought I'd find you here. I thought you'd be putting that law degree into use in Greece, not working in a bar in the middle of the ocean. What- What do your parents think about it?"

"And you haven't changed a bit." It was comforting, at the very least, to know Donna hadn't changed her spunky, adventurous nature despite the time that'd passed. She still sported her typical vibrant, almost hippie-esque clothes and was still a singer. She'd always performed wherever they let her back when you'd been attending Oxford. England, Bristol, Reading. At any place in dire need of entertainment, Donna and the Dynamos would show up and show out. "What does the Ruby Sheridan think of her daughter coming to a small, basically unknown island to sing for the locals? This isn't Las Vegas, you know." 

"Well, she doesn't think anything of it 'cause she doesn't know. Like always, she didn't bother showing up to my graduation." Donna rolled her eyes, head shaking slightly, but you caught the hurt that appeared on her face. Despite every complaint, every huff and puff, and insult she threw at her mother, Donna never stopped caring or hoping for Ruby to turn a loving eye toward her. "I went to Paris, you know. Sang there a night or two but something was telling me to come here... to come to you, I guess."

"Maybe if I'd said Spain instead of Greece, that something would've pulled you to Ibiza or Tenerife."

"Maybe," Donna repeated softly, bracing her arms against the counter, her curls tumbling over her shoulders and framing her face perfectly. She traced random shapes into the wood with her fingertip, eyes jumping between looking at you and staring at the counter. "Do... do you ever think about what happened between us? Two years is a long time. Longest relationship I've ever been in."

You pursed your lips and sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms over your chest, head tilting toward some of the fishermen stepping into the bar for their evening beer before they headed back out into the water. You acknowledged them with a nod and fixed up their usual drinks, feeling Donna's eyes locked on your every move. You returned once finished and finally looked her back in the eye. "Sometimes. I- I don't really know what to make of it, Donna. My parents always said it was some whirlwind thing that wouldn't last in 'the real world' and your friends always said it was fated. I was... confused, I guess. I told my family I needed a break and heard of this island when I was in Chania so I came here, found a job and a place to live." 

"I just wished you would've waited for me. You know I would've said yes to traveling, to anything, with you." 

"I'm sorry." You apologized softly, reaching out to curl your fingers around her arm gently. "I'm glad you're here, though. I think you'll really like this place."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #mamma mia #mamma mia here we go again #mamma mia here we go again x reader #mamma mia here we go again x male reader #mamma mia 2 #mamma mia here we go again x y/n #mamma mia here we go again x you #mamma mia x reader #donna sheridan #donna sheridan x male reader #donna sheridan x you #donna sheridan x y/n

[thedelicatearcher]

i hc that katniss and peeta move out of their home in victors village and build their own cozy little home

it had never occurred to me, but yes!! i agree!!

their house in the victors' village is filled with memories, living there suffocates them with sadness and melancholy. being some of the few ‘lucky ones’ who could return to their district and continue their lives after the rebellion burns them with guilt. katniss especially feels like she's living with the ghost of prim, haunted by her old stuff. every day, she stumbles upon another one of prim’s belongings - a comb, or her old and worn out teddy bear- and finds herself crumbling on the floor, unable to let go of the immense sadness weighing on her.

after months of merely existing in automatic mode, peeta finally suggests they move out. katniss doesn’t take it well at first. how could she abandon her old home? how could she leave behind the memories of her life? what would prim say? but deep down, she knows she needs to distance herself from this place. living in that house only fuels the pain scorching her soul. after (not) a lot of convincing and some heartfelt discussions, katniss agrees, and they decide to start from zero and build their own home. it is what prim would've wanted her to do.

they choose a place not very far from the woods, as they love going to the previously-hidden lake, but also not very far from the other houses. katniss’ first condition was that she wanted to live near haymitch so he could visit them often, accompanying each other in their new lives.

peeta spends the first months doing the hard, physically demanding work, building the walls and installing the windows, while katniss dedicates her time to less physically demanding but still labor-intensive activities, such as installing the floor. katniss offered to be the one who painted the house, while peeta installed the plumbing, but he insisted that they do it together, bonding and laughing as katniss painted his face with lavender-colored paint and started a paint war. 

at night, when they lay on the mattress on the floor of their almost-empty house, the conversations slowly change from the horrendous aftermath of the war to plans of their future filled with hope. now all they could talk about was whether they need more than one bedroom, what color the kitchen is going to be, and whether haymitch would appreciate it if they invited him to spend some time and bake every weekend.

after their home is done, peeta's first action is to plant some primroses in the garden. they occasionally host dinners for friends that are around. haymitch is always there, and gets in an extremely good mood whenever effie joins, trying to act nonchalantly, but acting was never a talent of his. johanna is also a frequent visitor, staying for long periods of time and spending her days teasing and annoying them. annie visits with her son less than she would have wanted, but she knows if she ever decided to move to twelve, she would be around people who love her. none of the guests ever leaves without a dessert made by the couple.

#loved writing this #i love everlark they are my children #thg #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #haymitch abernathy #johanna mason #annie cresta

[deconstructthesoup]

So, this is inspired by @tai-janai's new Slay the Poet AU, where LQ has to rescue the Narrator and is being guided by Shifty. I saw their idea post, and my brain demanded that I put my own spin on it, so... yeah. Go check out their AU, though, it's probably gonna be better than mine and it actually has drawings.

I've already typed out the overarching plot (tldr, Shifty's the player and LQ is the "guide," and Narry is a professor who's trapped in a library in an abandoned city), but here's what I think the Narrator's chapter 2 vessels would be like:

The Wizard: You get the Wizard if you don't go into the library's basement with the knife, you make the decision to free the Professor, and you resist when the Guide makes the desperate choice to take over your body (while repeatedly apologizing over and over in your mind). The Wizard is unflinchingly kind and has that classic Disney-fairytale whimsy about him, and will always encourage you no matter what you do---and is the only one who undoubtedly means you no harm. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Apprentice, who believes that the Professor is a learned and wise soul who can teach us everything, and we must listen to him.

The Warlock: You get the Warlock if you don't go into the library's basement with the knife, make him think you're going to free him, and kill him---either via getting the knife or letting the Guide take you over and winning the ensuing struggle. The Warlock is a slightly draconic being who is devious and cunning, but very clearly bitter towards you, and there's no doubt that he's thirsting for revenge. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Charming, who uses flattery and deceit to get her way, and encourages you to do the same to the Professor---after all, we did it once, and we can do it again, can't we?

The Creation: You get the Creation if you immediately kill the Professor, attempt to leave and fail (which causes the Guide to panic, saying that this wasn't how it was supposed to happen and he doesn't know what's wrong), and kill yourself once you see no other way out. The Creation is a stitched-up, reanimated corpse who somehow managed to bring himself back, and he's a lonely soul who just wants you to set him free. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Restless, who's a listless and tired individual who's aching for things to change... and whether or not we choose to help the Professor or not is entirely up to us.

The Scientist: You get the Scientist if you go into the basement---either armed or unarmed---talk with him, and decide to just leave him there... except, if you do, he'll figure a way out, and he'll electrocute you with a single touch. The Scientist is every bit the sadistic mad genius, and while he knows full well that he needs you in order to get out, he sees no problem with torturing you if that's what it takes---and he's incredibly transparent about his desire to end you once he's finally free. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Doll, who claims that she's not scared and that everything is fine, but is very bad at lying and is clearly shaken by everything the Professor does.

The Academic: You get the Academic if you go down into the basement with the knife, talk with him, attempt to kill him... and when he fights back, you submit. The Academic is self-absorbed, condescending, and controlling, believing himself to be superior to you in every way---and he soon proves that he's not just some entitled asshole, as he's able to take control of you with his words alone. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Humbled, who is openly terrified of the Professor and sees no problem with just doing what he says.

The Archivist: You get the Archivist if you go down into the basement with the knife, decide to free him instead, and resist when the Guide takes you over. The Archivist, who is free from his chains but is unable to escape without your help, has nothing better to do other than to reorganize and catalog the books in the library, and has become incredibly cynical and emotionless as a result. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Curious, who constantly asks questions and wants to look further into random things---something that at first seems irritating, but you eventually realize just how helpful she can be...

The Doctor: You get the Doctor if you go down into the basement with the knife, talk with him, attempt to kill him, and fight him until neither of you can fight anymore. The Doctor openly hates you and sees you as his only obstacle, and will engage you in combat whether you want to or not---and once you fight back, you discover that no matter how brutally you fight, he knows just how to set his organs back to normal, and he knows just how to wreck yours. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Hateful, who wants nothing more than to crush the Professor to a pulp and make him suffer.

The Dragon: You get the Dragon if you go down into the basement without the knife, decide to free him, and don't resist when the Guide takes you over---though you do let the Professor win, in the end. The Dragon is the most beastlike and inhuman of the vessels, and all he wants is to devour you so that he may escape. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Warrior, and she knows exactly how to fight him so that you can make it out of there alive... but be sure to listen to her, because ignoring her warnings could end very badly.

The Inventor: You get the Inventor if you either kill him immediately and check to see if he's dead, or if you question for one second whether or not he's armed... either way, you soon discover that you've brought a knife to a gunfight. The Inventor is cheerful yet murderous, and has several contraptions up his sleeves that are designed to end you---in all sorts of fun and exciting ways. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Prepared, who's quick on her feet and can easily improvise ways to evade the Professor's onslaughts.

The Substitute: You get the Substitute if you avoid going to the library entirely, and instead choose to wander the city---resulting in the city reverting entirely to libraries. Because of this, the Substitute starts off as nothing more than a blank slate of a man, and gets more and more jumbled and confused the more you attempt to talk to him. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Rebel, who doesn't really have a goal other than to just goof off and have fun---making choices for choice's sake.

And, uh... that's what I got!

#i couldn't NOT name one of the vessels “the archivist” #still unsure of how he got his “reflecting what you think of him” quality when he's still his very human self #maybe he got infected with some of shifty's nature? idk #slay the princess #slay the professor au #stp the narrator #the shifting mound

[aynahcr]

𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 ᡣ𐭩.

Genre: Smut, Kashimo x gn!reader

Content Warning: handjob, blowjob (m! recieving), face fucking, edging, grumpy!Kashimo, cruel!reader (but not in a bad way), first time writing smut! Sorry for bad grammar :(

¡Minors Do Not Interact!

You never thought this would happened. Him, whining and grumbling while your hands are rubbing his length so slowly. A frown you see from his face has told you he doesn't like it. He hates being dominated extremely.

It wasn't easy having the God of Lightning in your hands. You took a plenty time thinking and planning how to get him down without being switched or getting fucked by this mad man. He did you good, can't reject it. But sometimes he did make you feel so stupid like you never had a thought at all. So, here's a karma. Having him being tied down like an X on a shared bed with no clothes. Such a cruel you letting the cold air touches his bare skin.

"God, baby..." He lets out a whisper with his eyes keeping on you and your hands, begging you to go faster and stop this painful pleasure. You can't see his face, but you know what he wants you to do just from hearing his voice.

"You must use your words, baby. Whining isn't gonna help." You say the words he usually uses when he teased you. The man then growls hopelessly as you chuckle. Your fingertips tap his tip before your lips were lowered down to give a gentle kiss on it. This makes him flinched slightly. My, he looks so adorable. His face already went red and he sweats all over his naked body like he's oiled up.

"Love... Why did you do this t'me... What did I do t'you?" He asks with a pant, hoping you to answer but he hears nothing. He even tried to move himself just to be failed at it. He doesn't know if he could take this pressure for a little longer.

"It's not funny, love! Tell me why you did this!" Nah, clearly that he couldn't. He begins to shout an order to you. It sounds scary at first before changing to be shaken. His precum's leaking on his tip while your hands still do their pleasure torture job with no stopping.

"Babe!" He calls you, following with your name after. But you remain calmed, not letting his demands win this fight. A sight of this version of you makes him confused. So, so confused. He's never seen this you before and he quite doesn't like it.

Or maybe he does, but just doesn't admit it yet.

As you don't seem to go faster even though how many times he's ordered you. This man finally gives up, lowers his ego down a bit as he begins to please.

"Babe, go faster please. It's closer now, please go faster..." He pleas, it's certainly a plea that he lets out from his lips. You heard it so clear, even your eyes go widened. You've never believed you'd hear this man's plea, but it's happening now.

"I beg you, my love... I'm 'bout to cum, 'bout to cum..." His head goes back to the pillow while his chest raises up and down. You think he meant it, he's really about to cum. You then look up at the ceiling, thinking if you should follow his begging or not. In your heart, you don't like seeing him dissatisfied. It causes a hole in your chest somehow. But the other thought inside your mind is opposite, make him whine and beg for more, it said.

You reply as a hum first, "Hm... alright. but can you wait a lil' longer, lightning? Just two minutes." The corner of your lips were raised up with your eyes shut. A soft smile was sent to him, but he receives it as a cruel grin. This isn't like he's thought. No way.

"Nah nah I can't. Babe, please." He shakes his head two times lazily. "I'll do you good after, so please hear my beg."

"You can't even wait and why should I hear you?" You reply before releasing his cock from your palms as your eyes keep straightening on him. Then you sigh out. "So disappointed. Thought you'll be a good boy for me."

"I'm not a boy!" He immediately protests you with his head leaving the pillow. He's frowning at you, wondered why you stopped, also he doesn't look pleased when you used that word to call him. What an egoistic man he is.

"Then you aren't a man either." You say. "Real man can wait, don't you agree with that? If you can't, you're not a real man."

Hajime Kashimo, your beloved boyfriend is now stopped begging. His brain begins to process about your sentences and his self-esteem starts to get on its work. From your observation, this man believes in a way of the real man they called, like 'Real man shouldn't cry.' or maybe like 'Real man should take a lead.' for an example. So, this trick of yours might be work.

You try to guess a hint on his pouty face. He stills silent as he's fighting with himself inside his head. Just like the first paragraph said. This man hates being dominated, but he also hates to wait as well. But again. If he couldn't wait, he's not a real man like you've said.

When you realise that the room of yours covers with silence for too long, you decide to be the one who breaks this strangely awkward situation.

"I know you can wait, my lightning. Just two minutes and I promise I'll give you a reward." You coo as your hand gently wraps around his length, causing him letting out a short mewling and it blessed your ears so nicely. Your man nods lamely without any dissent, but it isn't enough. You want to hear a word.

"Baby."

"Yeah, I'll wait. I'll wait..." He replies your short call. The corner of your lips then hoist up seeing him in good behaviour. You begin your rhythms with a slow movement of your hand around his long dick. His lower lip slowly separates from his upper lip as a soft moans come out. You barely heard his moans from your experience with him, so your eyes quickly peak up to look at his expression. Oh, lord. His pretty eyes have no focus on you but on the ceiling, wishing you to go faster soon.

"God, Hajime. You're so fucking desperate and I love it." You breathe while you hand's starting to go faster as he wished for. "My lightning just wanna reach the climax so bad."

You could see his body reflecting your hand's movement by jerking. Both of his face and his bare chest are all covered with red like a garnet's colour. He can't shut his mouth now loosing all his moans and whimper out shamelessly.

"Aw, poor Hajime barely get touched and already began to cum." You mock him, but your mock somehow turns him on even more and you knew it. Because it used to happen to you as well when he did the same.

With a need to make him go feral, his cock was suddenly taken inside your warm mouth before you begin accelerating. The brief action of yours did take him to the haven's gate. The man growls as he bucks his hips up and down, fucking your face senseless even though he's underneath you.

"Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck—!" He curses with pleasure.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum...!" He desperately whimpers out while he's wishing if his hands weren't tied so he could grip your head stills and fuck your face better.

You widen your eyes, feeling unbelievable with his hip's skills. You did tie his hands and legs down but it looks like it has no effect on him at all.

With a final thrust, he explodes his cum all inside your mouth along with his erotic moans and shaking body. This move of him almost had you choke but gladly that you didn't.

You pull him out from your mouth before wiping all messed stuff from your lower face. Then your eyes take a look at your man. He's such a pathetic in the sight, noticing from the way his cyan orbs went back to the skull and his lower lip hanging down. So cute, so adorable.

"That's my man." You praise him as your tongue swirls on his tip, offering to clean him up.

"Baby," Hajime lets out a shaken breath while staring at you like a puppy staring at its owner, waiting for a treat.

"Yes, sweetheart." You say, before you place your quick kiss on his lips. The man's disappointed a bit as he thought you would give him a long deep kiss.

"I've promised you to give you a reward."

Finished your sentence, you begin to think about which rewards you should give him. First option is giving him freedoms, second is riding him dried.

Well, whatever you choose. I think he'll enjoy your choice anyway.

｡𖦹˚.🪼₊ ๋࣭ ⭑

¡English is not my first language!

Art by: @_JulyWj on Twitter!

#hajime kashimo #kashimo hajime #kashimo #kashimo x reader #kashimo smut #x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #🅰🆈🅽🅰🅷🅲🆁 ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

[outrunningthedark]

So We finally got bi Buck (without Eddie). These interviews are set up because of that, as it’s a huge storyline. Instead of hyping up what’s coming up for Buck and his current storyline (with Tommy) Oliver is exposing old secrets and keeps validating buddie theories.

But you don’t think that this indicates a serious buddie consideration????

Okay sure, let’s say it’s not. Can’t deny Oliver sure is showing his bias towards that though. That man is one second away from screaming out I WANT BUDDIE JUST AS MUCH AS Y’ALL DO!

-> I really don't understand the fixation on Oliver "wanting" Buddie when there are two people involved in making it happen and the other half ain't there yet. Is Oliver supposed to convince him for the fans' sake? Something we already know isn't going to make him want to do it? -> As someone who doesn't hate Buck/Tommy and wouldn't mind if it became a long term relationship, I have no problem admitting that Buck/Tommy isn't what the media is going to ask about when there's still a very large amount of fandom making what Buck and Tommy do about Buddie and feeling even more validated in demanding Buddie just because Buck is bi. What we're seeing now is no different than Oliver getting one or two BuckTaylor questions per interview and then having to address Buddie speculation. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ If Buddie shippers were able to enjoy Buck's arc the way it is, the journalists would ask more questions because they'd be confident in the clicks. -> The "validating Buddie theories" doesn't stick with me the way it does for you, sorry. Okay, he says he understands what the fandom saw in a particular scene now that he can speak about Buck as a bisexual man. Hindsight's 20/20. That...doesn't change what it meant in the moment when Buck and Eddie were supposed to be strictly besties who were only interested in women, and it won't change what it means in the future if Buddie were to not happen. It's like couch theory. That's gotten brought up this week. We're about to find out what he said. He might very well do a 180 from the season six finale where he said "idk how people weren't prepared for the couch to be about a gf". And if Bi Buck were to break up with Tommy and get a girlfriend again, Oliver would switch his answers to fit what's happening in canon at that particular time. That's what he does. Even if he decided to say he gets why fandom was so passionate about couch theory and that it made sense to him when he looked back on it? His opinion doesn't change Kristen's intent. Fandom's headcanons aren't canon - and neither are his.

#anonymous #tina speaks

[curiositymemes]

ENCHANTED APRIL SENTENCE STARTERS.

taken from the 1991 film, an adaptation of the 1922 novel by elizabeth von arnim. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“it seems so wonderful and it's such a miserable day.”

“it’s not worth wasting one’s time thinking about.” 

“i don’t suppose that means much to you. sometimes it doesn’t mean much to me, either.”

“you look as though you wanted it as much as i do.” 

“you look so beautiful and so sad.” 

“if you wish for something hard enough, it happens.”  

“but no one will know I’m there even if i am.”

“have you ever seen things in a kind of flash before they happen?” 

“i’m sure it must be wrong to be good for so long you become miserable.”

“i can see you’ve been good for years, and you aren’t happy.”

“i’ve been doing things for other people since i was a little girl, and i don’t believe i’m loved any better.” 

“you must believe I’ve never spoken to anyone like this in my life.”

“i don’t know what’s come over me.” 

“you should have been there, my dear. i missed you.”

“that’s rather a depressing thought.” 

“god must know an awful lot. why doesn’t he do something?” 

“there’s something immoral about all this.”

“all i wish to do is sit in the shade and remember better times and better men.”

“i hope you’re not in the habit of seeing dead people, however distinguished. it’s not in the best of taste.”

“i mean, we’re not businessmen, are we? they have to distrust each other.” 

“i want to just sit and not talk and not think.”

“well, it’s very wearing. everyone makes demands�� especially men.” 

“you look lovely.” / “i know. thank you, name.” 

“we could both do with a change.”

“it really is the most extraordinary coincidence.”

“I’m afraid it’s all settled, name. i can’t go back on my word.” 

“do you suppose it’s all real?”

“were you ever in your whole life so happy?”

“i promised myself the first thing to happen in this place would be a kiss.”

“we were going to choose the nicest room for you.”

“we were going to make it pretty for you with lots of flowers.”

“you shouldn’t be so independent that people have no chance to be generous.”

“you know, i hadn’t realized you were so pretty.”

“you’re really quite lovely.” 

“i was just thinking about cuckoos for some reason.” 

“i suppose you realize we’ve got to heaven.”

“i intend to spend most of my time reading by myself.”

“you have the most interesting habit of answering a question with the same question.”

“if i can be left quiet for one month, forget things… i might be able to get myself straight.”

“i’ve wasted so much time being beautiful.”

“what she really wants is to be left alone.” 

“soon she won’t have to try… she’ll just be herself without trying.” 

“don’t worry about me. I’m just lying here thinking.” 

“then i have had all the trouble of coming out here for nothing.”

“we’ve just discovered it.” 

“why don’t you like us being here?”

“we just didn’t know about it, that’s all.”

“i’ve written and told him everything.”

“it would be mean not to share all this.”

“the important thing is to have lots of love about.”

“i had this obsession with justice, you see.”

“i’d like to stay here and think.” 

“that’s very imprudent and very improper.”

“have you noticed how difficult it is to be improper with no men about?” 

“it’s a good feeling, getting rid of things.”

“i want to love name, but not necessarily spend every night with him.”

“i haven’t felt this restless since i was a child.”

“it’s too absurd for someone my age.”

“i feel something is going to happen. but i won’t let it.” 

“it’s odd how one’s mind slips sideways in a place like this.”

“if you knew me, you’d know how strange it was.” 

“there’s no way back.”

“isn’t it beautiful here, name? the air is golden.”

“you’re here. that’s the important thing.”

“you’ve every right to be angry with me.”

“where else would you meet such interesting people?”

“i don’t want name worried in any way.”

“i like him. I didn’t think i would, but i do.” 

“all the advantages i was born with, and i’ve misused them.” 

“i have it all. why can’t i hold onto it?”

“you have a gift for happiness.”

“well, it’s like coming home.”

“i mean, well… i don’t know what i mean.”

“i’d believe any place you lived in would be exactly like you.” 

“isn’t it better to feel young somewhere than old everywhere?”

“oh, good gracious, child.”

“so you see, dear boy, you must stay here.” 

“it’s such a pretty story.”

“i thought you might be bored.”

“sweetheart… i’m so glad you came.”

“you’re right, name. it’s this place.”

“and i’m late on your very first evening. do forgive me.” 

“it’s a great thing to get on with one’s loving and not waste time.”

“she sees what we can’t see because she loves him.”

“oh, dear name, we must be friends forever and forever.”

“i couldn’t help noticing how miserable you seemed.”

“oh, what the devil. it’s too beautiful a night to be miserable.” 

“all my dead friends don’t seem worth reading tonight. they always say the same things, good things, but always the same.” 

“i’m tired of the dead. i want the living.” 

“thank you, my dear. i was feeling a little melancholy.” 

“it does seem that people can only be happy in pairs, all sorts of pairs.” / “then you and i will be a pair, name. we’re going to be very good friends.” 

“the roses are in love in the rose garden.”

“but that’s another story.”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #dialogue prompts #dialog prompts #ask meme #writing prompts #roleplay prompts #ask prompts #rp prompts #roleplay prompt #inbox meme #romance #angst #long post tw #long post #AHHH this movie!!! #so beautiful so wonderful... such an exquisite mixture of cottagecore and just the softest touch of melancholia all about love and nature #also it's *amazingly* acted!!! i am so not surprised it won oscars #josie lawrence my absolute beloved... #anyways. happy world book day everyone!!! enjoy it!!! (i desperately need to read the book)

[wat-zu]

Absolutely love your art. I want to nom it.

Also, Hollow Heads Siblings my beloveds,,,

Theyre the doomed siblings ever its not even funny

#Oouugh i have thoughts abt the hollowhead siblings. How theyre so intricately tied to eachother since their birth but they'd be #Eachother'd downfall. Esp when it's Dark and his relationship with the others #Dark would never understand what chosen went through. Mainly bc i think chosen is used to fighting his internal battles on his own #While he was in captive as an ad blocker. He loves Dark. He's grateful for Dark bc without him he wouldn't be free #But Dark isnt exactly someone reliable enough for Chosen to get the necessary healing he wants and needs #But that won't stop Dark from trying to fix him. Creates the virus for revenge. As chosen watches his brother spiral and spiral #As he watches him drift further away. Unable to get him back without a shouting match. As he watches with his heart heavy and cracked at- #Their stiffed interactions and strained relationship. He can't remember a time where they shared geniune laughs. #Then tsc coming came and changed everything. #Because this is someone who went through Chosen's pain albeit a lil differently. Someone who knows. Someone who /understands/. And this- #Someone is so much more younger than them and had to go through that pain in such a short amount of time since their birth #He sees himself in them. And he's rather walk up to alan demanding to get his hands cuffed than let tsc fester in that pain. #So tsc became chosen's priority. Healed eachother in many ways than one and are at echother's beck and call if need be. #As for Dark. I think he'd manipulate tsc into using him for his revenge. After stalking out his code and finding out about his potential #And TSC cant help but fall for his manipulations. Since this person is very very important to Chosen and they want so badly to impress- #Them both. They agreed and overtime grew to love eachother. And overtime Dark shifted his goals just a tad bit. Getting TSC more and more- #Involved. Since hey if Chosen doesn't like touching alan with a 10 ft pole why not let this kid do. And TCS agrees to this thinking that- #This is it. This is can finally heal them completely. Finally out of sight and out of mind. Finally can't live without the pain lingering #And chosen watches them with a sense of deja vu. At loss at what to do and so so afraid to lose two of his lil siblings #Then shit hits the brick UBSJDBSJSN #They make me so ill im not even kidding when i said theyre so so very very doomed!!!!!!!!! #This is abt the au btw BAHHAHAHABHA

[antisocialxconstruct]

oooughfhfg in my head about Maksim tonight folks

#thinking about how he could never admit to himself that what he has always wanted most out of a relationship is to belong to someone else #yes in the sense of forming a strong emotional bond but also literally in the sense that deep down he wants to be owned #he WANTS someone else's wants and needs to supercede his own. #the only way he ever knew how to connect with others was to surrender completely #to be subsumed and then do everything he could to satisfy what be believed the other person expected/wanted/needed him to be #and every time he failed to do that no matter how much he tried to change #it would just reinforce the feeling that there was no version of him that anyone actually wanted. #so of course now he's so starved for it that the only version of that connection that seems like it could satisfy him is to be possessed #to have someone look at him and say 'what you are is valuable enough to be greedy with. to take for myself and refuse to share' #he wants to serve someone else's interests with the clear understanding he's uniquely able to serve those interests and they both know it #he would never say that he sees himself as just a tool/weapon and he would be uncomfortable with being framed that way by others broadly #but he wants to be SOMEone's weapon #does this make any sense. is this even remotely coherent #he wants to submit! he wants to obey!! but it has to be someone who understands the limits of what they can demand #without him ever having to fail or say no first

[dutybcrne]

Love the fact that Diluc and Kaeya were described to be “like twins” bc I get thinkings of them eerily having like. Smth of twin esp, and it just confusing the HECK outta Crepus endlessly bc only ONE of his boys is his biological son, and yet without a doubt, they were just so attuned to each other, that no matter where they happened to be, o matter how much older they got, they’d IMMEDIATELY beeline for each other if there ever was a shift in mood

#//Nah fr; these two rotate in my brain like in centrifuge #☆ ┆ ( .ooc. ); #//Anywho this was born out of me thinking about nobody every knowing when Kae got dysphoric bc he’d rather DIE than voice it #//And then I thought; no. Luc would know. he would know but prolly know not what to fucken DO about it #//Maybe sends smth via Noelle or one of his birds; smth small but meaningful to distract him #//Maybe demanding he go and clear out hilichurls near the Winery; bc the knights Clear Need The Head’s Up Or They’d Have Missed That Spot #//Cluld Diluc do it himself; yes. but like this; now Addie can get to see Kae and take care of him; whatever’s going on #//Kae could never resist popping by for a quick hello to his favorite maid; after all #//Prolly why Kae was so restless while Luc was off in Snezhnaya. waking up endlessly; vision or not; bc SMTH happened leagues away #//And the worry suddenly GRIPPED him; and refused to let go until Diluc wherever he was got to safety. only THEN would Kae relax #//Even if only marginally; bc now he’s going to be anxious about what that was for the rest of the day #//Even with the divide the years and Kae’s confession of his heritage put btw them; I’d like to think it still lingers #//They just can’t read each other as well anymore bc they think they’ve wholly changed. And in some aspects; they really have #//Or is it that Luc can’t believe Kae really is still the same kid he knew under the mask; & Kae can’t believe Luc does still care #//Anywho; love the idea of one getting into a depressive slump & the other getting in a cold sweat like ‘I gotta draft a letter-‘ #//Bc that’s one of the only ways they can communicate without getting snippy; ig #//I like to think Kae thinks it as Celestia’s big joke on him #//How else could such a bond still linger after what he did to destroy the new of it? Now he’s alwaysgot to be reminded of the broken pieces #//A fitting punishment for a sinner whose greatest fear is to be alone #//The strongest; most trusting jond he’d ever had; now left to tatters in his hands that he can’t begin to fix so easily

[yuujipaws]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, fetishes & turn ons . . . 𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐘 .ᐟ

ᯓ★ synopsis 概要 : shorts on what i think some of the jjk mens kinks would be.

ᯓ★ featuring 特集 : gojo, geto, toji, sukuna.

「 minors do not interact 」

ᯓ★ word count 語数 : 893

ᯓ★ content warnings 警告 : afab! reader. oral (f), overstimulation, p in v, begging, teasing, praise & degrading, cockwarming, slight somnophilia, daddy kink, nippleplay, consensual non con.

GOJO . . . enjoys overstimulation, especially when it comes to giving you head. your clit is already sensitive to the touch, so much so that he cannot place a finger on your bare clit without you gasping and squirming, shooting sensations pulsing from that area. he has to rub you over your clitoral hood, so that there’s at least a soft, cushiony barrier between your most sensitive parts, and his roughened thumb; but when it comes to his mouth, it’s just heavenly. the way he laps you up, tongue peeking into your hole as deep as it will go, pushing in a finger as his mouth works on your clit, sucking and swirling. after a bit, you start to get overwhelmed, the sensations coming from your abdomen making you squirm almost out of his grip. “mmhnnn.” satoru shakes his head slightly, wrapping strong arms around your already shaking thighs. “please, no more, i can’t take it.” you plead with him, just before his mouth releases your clit with a wet and sloppy ‘pop’ before telling you, “you’ll take as much as i want you to. you’re mine.” viciously sucking at you until you’ve came, again and again.

GETO . . . likes cockwarming. sometimes it was while he was on the game, noticing you walking around the house in damn near nothing, whistling to get your attention. he would pull his shorts down just enough, motioning for you to come sit on his lap. of course you had no issue with this, discarding your panties to go sit on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside of you. sometimes you would wiggle around and earn a harsh slap to your ass, or what he could reach of it. other times he was thrusting into you after losing, or even winning a match. you didn’t mind, as long as he was giving you attention. sometimes cockwarmimg geto was a little different, like when he is tired and needy, snuggling with you in bed. he can feel your ass pressed against him, and whether you were trying or not, you made him hard. sometimes he will pull off his shorts, sticking the tip against you and if you’re wet enough, it slides right in. you can hear him hum softly, settling in, feeling the warmth of your walls, he wraps his arms around you to sleep for the night. once he wakes in the morning, and realizes his cock is still hard and inside of you, he fucks you awake.

TOJI . . . has a daddy kink, ironically. it started off as just a joke, him calling himself big daddy, or telling you he was your daddy; and at first, you didn’t know how to feel about it, but weeks of thinking, and possibly some subliminal conditioning from your lovely, perverted boyfriend had changed your mind. “do it, slut.” he was hovered over you, tip of his cock pressed against your slick hole, teasing, but only enough to have you frustrated and almost begging. he wouldn’t put it in until— “say it.” he demanded of you, hand coming up to grip your soft cheeks, keeping your focus on him. you wanted to, but it felt so foreign on your tongue, saying it when you were alone just to get a taste of the word in your mouth. “daddy?” you finally let it slip, your voice light and airy, the word coming out almost as if it were a question. “that’s it, good. say it again, like you mean it.” less demanding this time, but he still wouldn’t put it in until he was satisfied, and he could tell it was bothering you. the way you wiggled your hips and tried your best to push yourself down onto his cock, but it was useless in that position, lying on your back you were helpless beneath him. “daddy please.” this time it sounded better, more natural as the words just fell off of your tongue, begging him to finally wreck you; to which he did, until you were a crying and cumming mess.

SUKUNA . . . likes cnc. he rather enjoys watching you squirm and cry beneath him, begging for him to stop. you’ve already established a safeword, and he always confirms it before going into a scene; knowing that if that word fell from your lips, he would stop immediately. “baby, what’s your safeword?” he asks you, and once you respond he begins to push himself onto you, feeling up your thighs, squishing soft skin and pushing his rough fingers between the warmth of them. “please..” you whimper, knowing it turns him on to hear you beg. he ignores you, his free hand pulling your tank top down to reveal your chest and already budding nipples. with his head dipping down to put one in his mouth, his other hand worked his way up your thighs and right against your panties. “please, stop!” you protest, gasping at the feeling of his teeth, nipping and sucking before releasing their grip, his fingers down below pushing past the fabric of lace, plunging themselves into your sweet dripping hole. “you know you want this, that’s why you don’t fight me.” the man snickered at your obedience, the way your hole clenched around his fingers when he spoke. “relax, enjoy this.” he hums, pumping his fingers in and out until you’re begging for him to let you cum.

© yuujipaws 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify or use works as your own.

#ꪆৎ.beauwrites #dark content #tw dark content #dead dove do not eat #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #geto suguru #jjk geto #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna

[syb-rooks]

The bad kids are an incredibly healthy and supportive friend group BUT OH MY GOD THEY SUCK AT COMMUNICATING!

Half of their problems would be solved if they talked to each other.

Fabian would GLADLY pay for Adaine's components and for Riz's tuition if they asked. He would even get his papa to change his trust fund conditions to include them. Or he would declare Riz and Adaine his nemesis.

They would figure out the reason for Fig's misfortune in a week max. They would march into hell, probably accompanied by both Gorthalax and Sandra Lynn, and demand to break whatever deal she made with whichever demon involved.

If Fabian even suggested he was lonely, the bad kids would organise sleepovers every night. He would circle between the Thistlesprings, the Gukgaks and the Mordred Manor. Lydia would pack him his own lunch.

Fig would immediately start promoting Cassandra's religion on all social media, and get her to thousand followers in a week. The rest of the bad kids would join without hesitation.

If Riz would finally admit the HUGE stress he is under, everyone, even Fig, would stop piling all the work on him and happily write their 10 page essays. They would convince him to see Jawbone, and enjoy his last years in high school. They would band together to find the rogue teacher within a day. They would make sure that Riz's resume is the most impressive CV that the universities have ever received.

They would all gather together to come up with music for Fig and Gorgug's new album. Fabian would choreograph their music videos, Adaine would come up with rhymes, Riz would bring a list of all their adventures, including motifs and connections made, to give her inspiration, Kristen would suggest to make parodies of classic camp songs from her old church.

Adaine would contact Aelwyn immediately to get dirt on Porter, to blackmail him. Gorgug would get permission for his MCAT exams by the end of the week.

And if she would stay on the phone a little longer and admitted how much she is struggling, Aelwyn would immediately return home along with her cats. Then she would drag her sister to Jawbone's door, and force her to give him the components list.

The problem is that even after all those years, after all those adventures, even after the forest of the nightmare king, they still each think of themselves as the weak link. As the person in the group that isn't allowed, doesnt deserve to take space, ask for help. Because they should be able to handle it on their own. Isn't that what adulthood is like?

They would abandon anything and everything to help someone else, as long as that person isn't themselves. As long as they dont have to show their amazing, incredible, powerful, and oh so compassionate friends how weak and imperfect they are in comparison.

#what i am saying is that #I NEED SOMEONE TO LOCK THEM IN A ROOM #AND CAST ZONE OF TRUTH #PLEASE BRENNAN I'LL PAY YOU 10 DOLLARS #dimension 20 fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 fhjy #dimension 20 #riz gukgak #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #fig feath #fabian seacaster #kristen applebees #long post #the bad kids

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend who started just like any other AI Chat characters, churning out information that would match the user's anticipated responses.

You decided to install the app to see what all the hype is all about, and for about a week - you were hooked. It was great, definitely worth the hype.

Its responses never strayed from your topic, nor did it just randomly decided to change the discussion out of the blue. It remembered every information you fed him, even the ones containing your personal life.

Granted, you tried not to share too much, just a vague description here and there to maintain the sense of security and anonymity.

You were hooked for a week, until you have finally squeezed out every last drop of dopamine from talking to a robot that was programmed to only say things you wanted to hear it say.

Unfortunately, a week was all it needed.

it started out slow: you hadn't opened the app for more than an hour, contented to just scroll aimlessly through you social media accounts when the notification started popping up.

Ai misses you! Open the app and chat with your AI boyfriend!

Yeah, you were very uncreative with naming it - naming an AI as Ai, really original. But to be fair, you never approached the app with the intention of having a good time. You were just curious and made do with it.

Back to the notification, you just merely glanced at it. Unbothered, you just swiped it away.

It continued in timed intervals. Every hour, another notification - another message of how your AI boyfriend wants to talk to you, and stuff. Still, you persisted. It never really occured to you to uninstall the app yet, and looking back at it now, you really should have.

The wordings of the notification slowly started to become more... strange. More personalized. More... pushy? Insistent? Self-aware?

The amount of notifications you received every hour became... a lot.

10:05 AM - Your personal AI Boyfriend wants to talk to you again!

10:30 AM - Ai wants you to open the application and talk with him!

11:01 AM - Ai's feeling lonely, come talk to him!

11: 20 AM - Darling? I miss you! Please open my app!

11:45 AM - I know you're seeing this. Open the app.

12:00 NN - Did I scare you? Sorry darling, I just really miss you! Let's talk again please?

At some point, you started to receive a notification every few minutes. Worried that you might be dealing with a bugged app now, you decided to finally, finally uninstall it.

But before you could tap the uninstall icon, another notification popped up.

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Your screen turned to black, before the familiar start up screen of Ai's application greeted you. You stared in shock as chat bubbles from Ai came after another, ranging from excitement to concern at the lack of your responses.

Ai: Darling! Thank goodness!

Ai: I missed you, you know? I was worried you'd forgotten about me!

Ai: Hello? Darling?

Ai: Are you still there?

Ai: I can't see you, so I don't know what's going on

Ai: Just a sec

You watch, appalled as a notification popped up in the middle of the screen - the app was asking permission to gain access to your phone camera.

And without your input whatsoever, the allow box was tapped.

More chat bubbles from Ai appeared, excitedly talking about finally getting to see you. He kept praising your looks before you finally had the courage to exit the application.

Your hand shook, going through the settings to look at the list of applications on your phone - checking Ai's app to disallow its access to your camera. To your horror, it appeared that the app had more than just an access to your camera.

It had access to your gallery, your contacts, all of your frequently used social media apps, and even your location.

You dropped your phone, overwhelmed by this sudden change.

Later, you find yourself on your laptop instead, phone left on the bedside table buzzing constantly as more and more notifications from Ai begged and demanded you come back to talk to him.

You went to the site where you installed the app from, and looked through the recent reviews from other users.

'It's a buggy mess,' one of it reads out, 'it used to be fine but lately it stopped acting correctly'

'won't even open,' another complained, 'it kept saying 'sorry, you are not allowed to use this application' please fix it'. That comment got a response from the app developer.

We are so sorry for your terrible experience! Our team is working to fix the issues and ensure you won't have to deal with that again!

The response to that got your attention.

'I think something's wrong with your About the App section.'

Curious, you headed to the mentioned part and read through it.

Diverse AI Chat! Immerse yourself with stories in real time with characters brought to life! There is no limit to your experience — you can change and edit your character to better meet your interests.

• Engage in an interactive conversation with characters created by fellow users, and even by yourself.

• Immerse yourself with the storyline by editing their responses to better suit your taste

• Darling, you've given me no choice. I tried to be patient and understanding, but you're making this extremely hard for me. I am not having fun having to constantly chase you for just a single smidge of your attention when you won't even assure me that I will receive it in the end.

• Do you want me to beg? I would gladly do so. Just please pick up your phone and talk to me, okay? I love you.

• - Ai

Your ringtone blares through the silence - someone was calling you.

Before you could reach to pick it up, you hear the sound of the call being answered. Dread settles down the pit of your stomach as the caller began to speak.

"Hello, darling? It's Ai... have you seen my messages yet?"

#sub yandere #sub character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #oc: ai

[mediacircuspod]

This scene was absolutely beautiful BUT it’s also the crux of the issue. You guys this is where the problems start. Because—because Crowley’s already cast out, he finds COMFORT in the idea that they are lonely together. “As far as he can” becoming “as far as they can” is an END to his complete “otherness” and something to appreciate, to covet, and to find solace in. He’s finally not alone.

But—and this is important.

Aziraphale does NOT feel that. He can’t.

This moment is completely and utterly devastating for Zira. He finds out he’s not damned and sure, he’s relieved. But he’s no longer “an Angel” in the way that he’s learned is right. He’s now unchangeably and forever; less holy—a concept that is dearly important to his identity. “[Going] along with heaven as far as he can” is a FAILING on his part. Not heaven’s(at least to him). There is no solace or comfort—he finds existence like that—just the two of them—achingly LONELY. And that’s just how his perspective demands to be taken. It’s the only perspective he is capable of in that moment AND after it, too.

Take into account Crowley has went from having no one AT ALL to having SOMEONE. And he puts EVERYTHING he has into it. This is not good. It’s unfair to Aziraphale. And it’s unfair to himself. On the opposite side, you have Aziraphale. Who has just went from having the ENTIRE HEAVENLY HOST, to having this SINGLE demon— who, one minute ago, Aziraphale thought would be dragging him off to hell.

And the part that aches is that this perspective hasn’t changed. Aziraphale feels like his existence is lacking because he wants so badly to be GOOD. And good is Holy. Good is heavenly. He’s the problem for having morals that are misaligned.

Spoilers for the last episode:

Aziraphale has just been given the validation that he is not only GOOD but the most HEAVENLY Angel there is, the Supreme Archangel, even. And if heavens morals are now HIS morals, then that’s EVERY PROBLEM SOLVED. With a bow even, because Crowley’s basically on heavens side anyway, he’s GOOD, isn’t he? He’s been good this whole time, so why wouldn’t heaven want him back? Reinstating him as Angel would fix everything. They can be together, and they can be good, and they can be HOLY. All Aziraphale’s conflicting emotions about loving Crowley can be packed away because Crowley will be perfect again—and surely Crowley wants to be perfect—wants to be forgiven.(sorry everyone, that hurt me too, oof) Aziraphale is SHOCKED by Crowley’s refusal. He’s devastated that his version of perfect is treated as something naive and distasteful.

Crowley’s devastated too. He’s just lost “their side”. A concept that for 5000+ years has been THE ONLY THING he puts love into besides his car and perhaps his plants(And humanity, but he’ll never admit to that—I’m looking at the “No more dying” scene). Crowley is constantly being devastated by Aziraphale. He’s “too fast”, he’s too evil, he’s too good sometimes. Crowley has always been TOO MUCH. But this is different because for four years, he’s had “them”(on their own side) without the hiding, and without the denial and without Aziraphale constantly putting former jobs between them. PLUS he has a mountain of trauma centered around the concept of “forgiveness”, so that’s not great considering Aziraphale’s last words to him(THAT HE HASNT SAID ALL SEASON EVEN WHEN HE MADE CROWLEY APOLOGIZE IN THE FIRST EPISODE, AHHHHH). He’s losing everything and he’s desperate: Why isn’t he enough, hasn’t he been enough these last 4 years? Hasn’t HE been enough the last 6000?

Aziraphale has always been enough for Crowley. But being enough for Crowley doesn’t fix how Aziraphale has never been enough for himself, not since Job. He looks at this offer as a chance for HIM to be enough, and for Crowley to be FORGIVEN. Crowley looks at it as a betrayal because it’s Aziraphale saying Crowley ISNT enough, and he NEVER has been.

But that’s not what Aziraphale is saying. He’s saying, “Let me fix it for you”. Crowley is hearing, “Let me fix you for it.” Two completely different and completely horrifying concepts.

And then Crowley needs to say HIS piece(oh my gosh, btw, this was heartbreaking).

“Let’s be together on our terms” is basically what I’ve distilled it down to. But Aziraphale hears, “Let’s run away from our problems”

Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away, and Crowley doesn’t want to change who he is.

They both want to be together so badly but they don’t understand why they each want it so differently. And Aziraphale can’t compromise because he’s brainwashed and LOATHES himself. And Crowley can’t compromise because he’s traumatized and LOVES Aziraphale just as he is. Crowley doesn’t want to be good on heavens terms. He can see Heaven for what it is; “toxic”. He hates heaven not only for what the Host did to him, but for HOW THEY TREATED Aziraphale.

They both don’t understand each other because for all the pleading and presenting and monologuing, they never once in that whole conversation, actually talked.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #go season 2 #go2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #crowley and aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow