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sukunas-wife · 6 months

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Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

#sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #jjk anime #sukuna x reader #daddy sukuna

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jytan2018 · 11 months

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I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

#nimona #nimona meta #nimona comic #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin

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f1 · 1 year

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BEYOND THE GRID: Oscar Piastri on his F1 debut dealing with the pressure and bringing back McLarens glory days

A new episode of the Beyond The Grid podcast means a new guest and this time it’s one of F1’s three rookie drivers in 2023, Oscar Piastri, who sits down to reflect on his first Grand Prix, how he is finding his feet in the sport and what’s next for himself and McLaren… Piastri made the step up to F1 as a highly-rated F2 and F3 champion and, after a steady start in Bahrain, the 21-year-old Australian shone under the lights in Saudi Arabia with a run to Q3 in qualifying – offering a glimpse of the potential that generated an off-track battle between McLaren and Alpine over his services last summer. IT’S RACE WEEK: 5 storylines we’re excited about ahead of the Australian Grand Prix With the first racing laps of his F1 career behind him, Piastri stopped by for a wide-ranging chat on Beyond The Grid and began by telling host Tom Clarkson what life in the fast lane has been like so far… “I’ve been enjoying it! It’s been exciting and obviously something I’ve worked towards for a very, very long time. I started racing about 12 years ago now. It’s been busy, but it’s very cool to say I’m an F1 driver – that’s for sure,” said Piastri. “Everyone’s been great in welcoming me to the team. I’ve been trying to spend as much time at the factory as I can, both preparing myself, trying to help the team, but also just getting to know people, put names to faces. Piastri is getting used to life as an F1 driver and representing the famous McLaren team “Now that we’ve got the first race under our belt together, it just adds to the level of the relationship that you’ve got with all the mechanics on your side of the garage and stuff like that. I feel like I’m in a good spot, very happy to be at McLaren, and it’s been going well, I think.” Piastri has arrived at McLaren amid a challenging phase for the Woking squad, who announced last week that a technical reshuffle is taking place in a bid to overcome their current performance struggles and emerge as a front-running force again – having taken only one race victory over the last decade. ANALYSIS: McLaren hit the reset button in a bid to revive their F1 hopes “There’s definitely the passion and the energy there to get us back to the front,” explained Piastri, referring to the eight constructors’ championships, 12 drivers’ titles and 183 Grand Prix wins McLaren have achieved since their first race back in 1966. “Obviously we’re not where we ideally want to be at the moment, and I’m sure for myself and Lando [Norris], of course, we want to be trying to win, because that’s what we’ve done to get into F1 – and the team’s no different, I feel. “We’ve got good plans to help us move forward. We’ve got a new wind tunnel coming online, a new simulator, so the plan is in place. I think half the battle sometimes is recognising where things are going wrong or where you need to improve. “I feel very confident that we’ve recognised a lot, if not all of those areas, and now it’s about putting in the hard work to address it all.” READ MORE: Home hero Piastri describes ‘special feeling’ ahead of maiden Australian Grand Prix His F1 debut and McLaren’s factory push aside, Piastri also speaks about the sacrifices he made to pursue his motorsport dreams by moving from Australia to Europe as a youngster, the influence of fellow Australian drivers Mark Webber (now his manager) and Daniel Ricciardo, whom he replaced at McLaren – and much, much more… Listen to the full podcast with Piastri in the player above or head here to catch Beyond The Grid on your favourite platform. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

#F1 #BEYOND THE GRID: Oscar Piastri on his F1 debut #dealing with the pressure and bringing back McLaren’s glory days #Formula 1

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iceunhie · 2 months

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“and i can go anywhere i want just not home” : genshin men

premise. home is where the heart is—perhaps it's why they feel so empty whenever they're away from you. or, what it's like when they miss you while they're/you're away.

featuring: kazuha, lyney, wanderer, neuvillette.

notes: gn!reader (you/your pronouns), welcome to the depths of my drafts, you can tell where i got lazy and when i got motivated tbh 💀 an attempt at humor (i am unfunny) reblogs are appreciated! like usual, might make a part 2 idk

...alternative title: 3 twinks and a dragon

NEUVILETTE: wait, why's it raining so hard?! 😱 “oh, it's just the monsieur sulking ^^”

neuvilette finds that one of the most inconvenient things granted in his power is the fact that his emotions can be broadcasted live over fontaine at any given moment.

subsequently, it's pouring; buckets of rain that clearly weren't on the daily weather report yesterday. he can see parents ushering children into their homes, the melusines providing umbrellas to those who had the unfortunate problem of not bringing one at the side.

all in all, fontaine is as is, but neuvilette feels even emptier than before.

it's probably because of you. it's definitely because of you. as fleeting as the rain on a summer day, you'd come and went, wishing him well before you'd leave for liyue for a short vacation.

2 weeks....

(the rain showers even more, heavily pouring over the nation.)

his shoulders tighten uncharacteristically, and if you were to see him, you'd tell him he'd resemble a sad fontainian otter with its seashell taken away.

. . . .

BONUS:

"i'm back- GAH! why are the streets flooded?!"

"oh, mx. [name]! welcome back! i'll tell monsieur neuvillette that you're back now!"

two hours later, the sun shines back again as if it hadn't poured consistently during the entire duration of 2 weeks. the people of fontaine rejoice.

KAZUHA: like a bird longing for the sun to shine again (the most normal) 😭

kazuha isn't the type to brood. he isn't, because he knows he has nothing to brood about. well, most of the time, anyway.

this, however, is partly because you're usually with him, you in all your glory, nourishing him with affectionate kisses and letting him feel the breath of fresh air he desperately needs after a long, enduring trip on the crux.

the days you aren't there however are the days he finds himself most appreciative of his reclusive nature. as the rock of the ship against gentle waters make it sway, kazuha thinks of you.

you, you. were you at liyue, doing well as he hopes you always are, trudging away as you work wonders in the kitchen, preparing meals and watching day turn to night, waiting for time to pass, missing him too?

he hopes you are. (he feels like every time you're gone, a part of him can't erase the sense of homesickness. even if liyue wasn't his home, you are the closest to it.)

"you look a bit blue these days, kazuha. missing a certain someone?" a certain captain guffaws, to which the white haired vagrant can only smile to, though the smile betrays his rather dour mood. beidou's tease is only indicative of his longing.

he does miss you. a whole lot. he misses the way you run up to him as he finally steps off the crux's arms, embracing you with fervor and inhaling the cool scent of your hair. only then, kazuha thinks, he could really feel at home. "only a fool wouldn't miss the one they hold most dear to them."

beidou pats him on the back, sympathetic of his plight. he feels a bit embarrassed. beidou always saw through him. "gotta tough it out, kid. just a few more days and we'll be back to liyue in no time."

he wasn't a kid—beidou knows this, but she felt the need to emphasize so, what when kazuha looked akin to a kicked puppy waiting for its owner in the rain. "I'm well aware."

and so she's gone, warbling an old sailor's tune, leaving kazuha to deal with the ache of you behind.

he also misses a lot of things about you whenever you're gone. though temporary as his wanderlust may be, because he promised you—"i will always return to you"—this has brought him to associate everything he sees in your likeness.

is it the poet in him? perhaps. but loving you is as natural as him taking in the sights of nature, as lovely as the moonlit nights he spends, alone, and without you.

tough it out, as beidou says. that's difficult.

watching as the moon seems ever perpetual in the sky, kazuha only hopes he can tough it out well.

(when he comes back, he's thinking of running towards you this time.)

. . . .

"welcome back, kazu-" you don't even make it to the harbor's docks before you're being tackled and literally thrown off your feet. "what the fuck are you doing?!"

or should you say, swept off your feet? you feel every ounce of shame right now, and burying your head in the crook of kazuha's neck. profanity aside, it's hard not to be ashamed when almost every person with a pair of working eyes can see you being carried by your lover.

you can hear the playful whistles and cheers of the crux crew from behind, and beidou's knowing, knowing smile.

"i'm home." kazuha's breath is close to your nape, and you feel the soft press of his lips to your neck. you flush. face him, and you see his dreamy, lovesick eyes.

if he was looking like that, how could you be ashamed? you laugh, even if you see people side eye you into oblivion. brush your noses together, and close your eyes.

"welcome home, kazuha."

he smiles. the day is bright today.

BONUS:

"kazuha?"

"mm, what is it, love?"

"if you do that ever again i will literally drop dead on the floor from the shame, so don't make it a habit."

"haha, i wouldn't dream of it."

(one voyage later, you find out kazuha is a liar.)

LYNEY: 😐 'insufferably insufferable,' given by lynette

if lynette could choose between smelling every perfume in emilie's shop (and put herself through an attack to her very delicate senses) and seeing her brother mope like a deflated balloon over his absence in fontaine, she'd pick the first option.

you are to blame. rather, maybe it's her brother's utter lack of propriety, proclaiming just how much he misses you with almost enough talk to make her want to rip her cat ears out.

or maybe she'd actually claw at him. lyney was just that infuriating. is this what they mean by love changes a person?

(if so, then lynette reckons her twin has changed for the worse.)

okay, she was exaggerating a bit, because she loved you very much and considered you family as well—but she would gladly dropkick lyney any time. they'd been stationed at poisson for a while, set by father. it was cleanup for the remnants of the prophecy, but it provided them sufficient time away from the court of fontaine, away from distractions.

and, in lyney's mind, it also means he's away from you. in lynette's opinion, he should've stayed. that way, she won't get to listen to him prattle on and on about—

"do you think [name] will still love me even if i've been away from them for far too long? ahh, and lynette, these rainbow flowers, do they need a bouquet matching their eyes instead?"

and of course, her brother being the drop-dead love-drunk fool he is (bless your heart for being able to tolerate her sappy and corny brother) has not. stopped. talking. about. you.

you'd probably accept a bouquet with a dead fish in it if it meant lyney gave it to you, but lynette doesn't voice it out. in a corner of her mind, she wonders if she should just actually become a clockwork meka so she could voluntarily tune herself to tune out lyney's voice.

she crosses her arms, putting her (4th) dessert aside. "they'll like anything you give them. and there's no way they'd get sick of you just because we're away for a week, lyney."

her brother sighs, dreamily looking away at the sky. probably thinking about the flutter of your eyelashes and your smile that makes a magician want to bottle it up and never let it show to anyone else—

blergh, she was beginning to let lyney get to her.

"a week is far too long for me." lyney sulks. lynette resists the urge to roll her eyes. you and me both, brother.

"what if they might be in danger somewhere I can't reach?"

but because she's such an amazing sister (factual), she lets go of her temporary reprieve and comforts her utterly hopeless (factual?) brother.

(for your sake too. because lyney has changed. though she may say it's for the worse, that's not true at all. in fact, it's the opposite.)

"relax, lyney." her tone is sincere this time, that in which always gets lyney to look up to her. they're children again, and lynette is facing her older brother, and they're hand in hand together. "[name] will be fine. as long as it's from the heart, you know that they will cherish anything you give them."

because it's you, someone that accepted them, every part of them. lynette doesnt show it much, but it's one of the reasons why she's so fond of you. she grateful, really, that you love her brother.

thankfully, (to her great relief) it seems the hint that you'd rather have him home without anything than not be home at all, has gotten through lyney's mind. he goes silent, and lynette takes it as a successful mission success. another lovesick crisis averted, her brother's relationship with you stabilized.

at last, peace.....

. . . .

"alright then!" lyney says enthusiastically, with an unhappy lynette and a sheepish freminet in tow.

"let's commence operation steal their heart the moment we finish this mission!"

"the what now?"

lynette facepalms. she shouldn't have said anything....

BONUS:

"uh, lynette, what's that?"

"headphones."

"why?"

"....noise cancellation."

freminet looks at lyney, who's pacing around the room, muttering to himself as his grip on the rainbow flower-marcotte bouquet tightens.

"oh." lynette nods at him wearily.

WANDERER: warning! ⚠️do not approach, he bites (scowls) 😨

there are many times when wanderer wants to bash his hat and let it squash the traveller's flying companion, and today was one of those times.

"hey, hat guy! why are you looking even more scary than usual? your scowl can be seen from miles away!"

he can hear her irritatingly cheery voice in the distance, undoubtly exposing him to the eyes of others. damn it.

"paimon, shh...!" aether silently prays to whichever god may hear (hopefully nahida), because for someone so small, wanderer was emitting a very ominous aura not akin to an aura of death.

"quit your nonsense, you-" wanderer barks back, insult at the tip of his tongue, but he tempers his temper (heh), going quiet instead. "forget it. i don't want be pissed off even more from that disgustingly chatty pet of yours."

"what did you just say to me?! urgh, you, you- ugh, paimon can't think of an ugly nickname! help out here, traveller...!"

"i think you should just let it be this time, paimon..."

he ignores the chatter of the two—mortals—thumbing at his vision, and then tenderly at the little doll he's sewed in his likeness, as well as.... your doll.

(you gave it to him once as a keepsake, in exchange for him sewing you the mini him he painstakingly made. when you got your wish, you made the two dolls kiss, saying something so ridiculous as, "that's us now!" his face burned the entire way back home.)

instead, he finds his thoughts lingering to you. you'd seen him off, staying back at sumeru city with nahida as company, leaving him to escort the traveller and paimon to the desert to clear out some ancient ruins. how boring.

you kissed him breathless back there— much to his chagrin at seeing nahida's knowing smile; but he finds himself longing for your voice and your hands in his hair more than ever. at least then he'd be able to solve the ringing in his ears from paimon's voice.

he's long stopped denying his erratic, tumultuous feelings, but he misses you. unbearably, because at least you were better than the two he's forced to babysit accompany.

and he also misses how you would take shelter in his hat in the sweltering desert heat, kissing his cheek when he flew you around to explore the pyramids, and when you would hold his hand as you complained about how long you two would be walking up, all sand and sweaty.

(he'd tease you about leaving you for dead, but was always the first to worry whenever you get dizzy from heat. a walking contradiction, this one.)

"hey, wanderer, you there?"

"you're a little red. are you overheating?woah, so puppets really can do that.... ah, you're spacing out, too!"

ugh. "what am i, a tea kettle?" he scowls, crossing his arms.

he's already counting the days he can finally return to your arms.

paimon stomps her feet at the nonexistent ground, "we're just a tiny bit worried, you know!"

"yeah? well you should do me a favor and shut your mouth a little. otherwise you'll end up overheating from the amount of nonsensical words you spit out."

"this guy's a real piece of work, only being kind to [name], jeez..." to his glee, the pixie mutters angrily. something about being a meanie and insufferable. well deserved.

aether watches the exchange with the soul drained from his body. 800,000 mora, 800,000 mora.....

. . . .

"uh... wanderer?" you chuckle nervously, not knowing where to place your hands as he buries his face head-first into your chest the moment he's home, allowing you to gently caress the soft strands of his hair.

"..."

"so are you gonna talk about it, or?"

"just let me hold you, will you?" he bites, but there's no bite at all. you kiss the top of his head as his ginormous hat is taken off his head completely. he nuzzles deeper into you. "....i missed you."

that shut you up real quick. you try to hide the giddy smile you have, but he lifts his face up to see it anyway.

"i missed you too."

BONUS:

"[name], is that an insect bite on your neck?"

"huh?!"

aether squints at you, "what kind of insect leaves that big of a bite-" his eyes pop out. turns red. "oh."

you look away. one less pure soul in the world.... sorry, aether.

(in a corner of the house of daena, wanderer sneezes.)

more hsr content soon, also for very important reasons: do you think sunday would let you bite the wings by his ears yes or no

#mhie's spirals #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #wanderer x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvilette x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #lyney x reader #genshin drabbles

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sleyu · 10 months

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DATING JAMES POTTER INCLUDES . . .

PAIRING: JAMES POTTER X READER

GENRE: FLUFF & SMUT

If anyone is boyfriend coded, it's James.

James is so desperate for your attention. It’s fully up to you how you would react to the stunts he’d pull and all the nonsense he’d say for you to spare just a mere glance at him, but as soon as you do, he’s not shutting up for days. So much so, you’d find Remus on his hands and knees, begging to give James a chance so that he could finally study in peace.

When James falls in love, the person he is infatuated with and the things in relation to them is the only thing that remains in his mind.

‘Ugh,’ he thinks, ‘Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop is an eye sore.’ But wait, ‘Y/n loves pink. I ought to bring her here next time.’ He thinks.

James, contrary to what he makes himself out to be in front of his friends before meeting you, abandons any sense of his pride and ego when it comes to his girl.

Before falling in love with you, James would scoff and snicker at couples around Hogwarts, at people holding hands, cheeks flushed and eyes starry-eyed, as they’d walk together in Hogsmeade.

Meeting you, falling in love with you—finally making you his—made him love every corny, cheesy aspect of being with someone, completely endeared and left sheepish by their every breath and movement.

During ’ O.W.L.S. or any test for that matter, one could steal a glance at James, only to see him absentmindedly writing down your initials with a heart right beside them on his parchment, looking almost bored at his otherwise empty paper.

Anytime he would find himself stuck on a question, he would sigh happily, putting his quill down and all his focus on you, trying to find you sitting in the exam hall, smiling in amusement at the look of determination on your face.

James being in love means him attempting to look for your face during every quidditch match, upon every win, and during every loss, trying his best to search for your reaction. All he wants is for you to see him in his glory, and no amounts of pats on his back or the cheers he receives from crowds compare to the feeling of your thumb caressing his cheek, or your hands softly patting him on the head, telling him how proud you are of him and how you couldn’t take his eyes off him.

James finds it tough to admit and often struggles to communicate it, but he needs your praise. He needs you to tell him that he did good, that he looks handsome, that he’s brilliant for his latest prank, and that no one else compares to him. Of course, it’s an ego boost for him, but behind his egotistic front is a vulnerable, questioning man who doubts himself often, wanting nothing more than to prove himself to you.

‘Did I do good, love?’ he’d ask, desperation seeping from his honey-like voice, as though he’s unable to wait for your answer, fearing the possibility of your displeasure. ‘Please tell me I did.’

Of course, this manifests in your sex life. James needs praise always and rarely ever incorporates degradation into his lovemaking. He not only tells you how pretty you look for him, how good you feel wrapped around his leaking cock, but also begs you to be vocal, to communicate your pleasure and to tell him that you only belong to him and that no one else could make you feel as good as him.

‘Need you to tell me, baby—fuck! Wanna make you feel good—wanna make my good girl feel good—god.’

‘Tell me—tell me you love me. Say it again—need to hear it again,’

James begs that you leave a kiss mark on his cheek for ‘Good luck,’ right before a quidditch game.

The mandatory uniform for Gryffindor Quidditch matches is James’ jersey. Nothing fuels his pride and his absolute enamour for you more than seeing his last name plastered across your chest and back, proudly and visibly displaying your support for him and only him.

After a big win, you can expect to be fucked in the jersey. James swears he’s never cum faster than he has when he took you from behind and watched as your back arched; the name, ‘Potter,’ printed upon your trembling body as though it was a mark of ownership and loyalty.

Dating James means that he’s treating you as though you’re made of glass. Gentle touches and grips to your waist as the two of you walk in the school corridors, and adoring coos when he sees you slump against him, tired from a long day.

‘My poor angel. Always working so hard, yeah? C’mon, I’ll take care of you.’

He’d rather die than hear you call him by his name. To James, calling him by his name means that you’re treating him as though he were any other person when he isn’t. He needs to hear the affection laced in your words. The soft, gentle mumble of ‘baby, darling, Jamie, honey,’ is all he seeks to hear from you and he practically crumbles against the gentle caress of your hand on his cheek when you refer to him by a pet name.

‘James,’ you sigh, exasperated. Your boyfriend furrows his eyebrows, ‘That’s baby to you!’

During the summer, he’d insist you attach a photo of you with every letter you send him, whether it’s you on vacation or simply in your room, he has to get his fill of you.

He’d spend so much money on little trinkets for you, little items he would pick up from the sneaky Marauders Hogsmeade trips.

Sirius would huff as James pulled him into a stationary shop, ‘James, can we please stop making pit stops? We have 30 minutes left.’ James shook his head, grinning to himself as he picked up several pretty pens he reckons you’d love, ‘Need to supply the missus with gifts, Pads.’

James would be so happy once you begin warming up to the Marauders. His favourite people loving his favourite person? It’s his dream come true and as soon as he sees you bickering with Sirius, having long and insightful discussions with Remus, and casually hanging around Peter, he knows he’s going to be with you for a very, very long time. He’ll make sure of it, he decides then.

James would most certainly carry your bag as he drops you off to class. The first time he attempted in doing it, the two of you were tugging your bag for five minutes, arguing with each other about who would carry the pound of weight on your shoulders. He won, much to your dismay, but a surge of warmth bursts through him the first time you hand your bag over to him mindlessly, without him asking or fighting you for it, as though you had expected him to do it. He treasures these moments in your relationship where he begins to realize that habits between the two of you are beginning to grow and that you both are becoming used to being such an integral part of each other's lives.

He constantly tells you that you’re his everything and that all he does is for you and only you.

Study dates with him are entirely pointless as they never lead to actual studying as James cannot survive five minutes without your undivided attention on him. What do you mean you have to read a textbook for an hour? No periodic breaks to kiss your boyfriend or to coo at him? The only way actual studying will get done is if you promise him a kiss for every correct answer he gets—but we all know where that’s leading to.

He was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ in the relationship. He would probably say it very quickly as he had known he loved you before the two of you dated, but he’s entirely fine with you wanting to take your time in dissecting your feelings for him.

Until you say it back, with every night and morning kiss, every departure before class, he’d whisper a giddy, ‘I love you, darling,’ to which you’d smile bashfully. Once you do say it back, he’s smiling like an idiot for two weeks straight. He would be almost annoying about it, like a child on Christmas Day. He’d tell you that he loves you repeatedly only to hear you say his four favourite words: ‘I love you too.’

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