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lumiereandcogsworth · 6 months

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you may have already talked about this so forgive me buuuuut what were Belle and Adam's reactions to each pregnancy? and their baby's reactions as they joined in on the fun of learning they would be getting siblings?

i have been SO excited to answer this all day. i love pregnancy discoveries/announcements SO MUCH i just think they’re so cute. (i mean, they can certainly be Not Great news, but in otp land!!!! CUTE!!!!) so without further ado, let’s get INTO IT!!

okay for their first baby… gosh i’ve probably written and rewritten this scene twenty different ways over the years. this is the BIG ONE!! the moment they go from a married couple to PARENTS!!! it’s HUGE it’s LIFE CHANGING!! i think about it all the time. and i think after all these years i finally have a scenario that i’m most happy with, that i’d really love to write and sort of insert into my canon, but just haven’t finished yet. and the funny part is that i’ve already written The Conversation™️ i just have to set it up and context and story and all that jazz. but anyway, i think it’d be such a big thing for both of them.

for belle, she really never imagined she’d get to be a mother. and i think the idea of motherhood, in a way, sort of scared her. she LOVES children for sure, but i think growing up in the village with no real prospects, no chance of getting out and being free, the idea of becoming someone’s domestic little housewife and homemaker was just such an awful idea to her. she wanted true love, she wanted a family of her own, but she just didn’t want it to be in that little provincial town with no hope of escape. and marrying someone and having their kids would just tether her there forever. and she wanted more for herself!!

so then, when she marries, idk, THE PRINCE? and becomes THE QUEEN? everything just changes. she’s not just some guy’s little wife. adam would rather die than let that happen. adam believes in her and pushes her to be as incredible as he knows she is. she has so many responsibilities in her role, she’s a freakin powerhouse!!! so when she does end up pregnant, almost a year after they get married, she’s actually quite excited by it. because she Knows she’s so much more than a homemaker. she doesn’t have to compromise herself to be a wife and mother, as she had once feared. she gets to have a baby with the love of her life and still fulfill all her own dreams. she can really do it all, your honor! so, in short, realizing she’s pregnant that first time is exciting and a huge relief knowing this isn’t the end of her life, just another chapter.

for adam it’s more like AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH !!!??!! PANIC PANIC PANIC WORRY WORRY WORRY !!!!!! but i can elaborate further. essentially, adam was never really keen on fatherhood. surprise surprise, having an abusive father and growing up suppressed and bullied and then directionless and scared and all that… didn’t really enthuse him on the idea that he’d be a great parent for any kid. despite that, of course, he did know deep down he would have to have an heir at some point. probably with some random woman who was deemed a politically advantageous match, someone he didn’t care about, the way he didn’t care about anything. but he ignored that prospect as often as possible, the same way he ignored all his other royal responsibilities. BUT! NOW? he Loves his wife……… he loves his wife so much and everything is different now. he’s a changed man now. he’s trying so hard to see the goodness in the world now. everything is brighter and it’s scary but he’s strengthened by her and supported by her and loved by her and… and… she’s pregnant 🥺

i’ve written this scene so many different ways mostly because adam’s reaction is just so… complicated. he wouldn’t be angry but i don’t think he’d be overtly happy either. he’s changed, he’s grown, but “fatherhood” is such a Deeply Rooted issue for him that i think when belle tells him, he just doesn’t even react at first. he knows he loves her and knows, logically, this is a good thing, so he holds her and starts worrying about her and starts processing this great big change in his life. and he fears becoming his father, despite the fact that it’s his mother’s kind heart beating inside him. and belle tells him there is no one else on this earth she’d rather have children with, because no one would ever believe in her the way he does. the way she believes in him. so they have lots of reassuring talks over the course of the pregnancy, and of course, that beautiful day when their first little one finally arrives, it’s just magic 🥹

GAH! first baby euphoria consumes my soul. i could talk about it forever, clearly. but i’ll move on to baby number TWO!

i actually HAVE written this fic of belle telling adam!! it’s a couple years old now so i’m tempted to not link it but it’s still how i imagine it happens in canon so it’s okay. i shan’t cringe at my old writing!! anyway, it’s christmas 1743 when belle tells adam they’ll be spending NEXT christmas with one more little angel than this year 🥰 adam is a lot happier on the second round, now that he’s been a father for a bit of time, now that he’s positively fallen in LOVE with his daughter, he’s more excited to keep growing their family. renée, however, is not even two yet when this is happening, so she really doesn’t have any thoughts about it lmao. HOWEVER, once her baby sister arrives, she is Not enthused by the sudden lack of attention. i’ve written a cute one about that so i’ll link that as well <3 i really want to write the moment renée meets juliette, i think it’d be sort of funny considering how young she was, but i just haven’t gotten around to it. my fic about the day juliette was born is already so hectic for other reasons, so it just didn’t work to write renée into it.

LASTLY!!! LE PRINCE!!!! it’s like you’re in my HEAD bro because just Yesterday i got a cute idea for how this pregnancy may be discovered. (and i have considered multiple possibilities, this is just the latest and greatest). i was imagining perhaps juliette (age 4) comes down with a cold of sorts, so belle’s been taking care of her. then belle starts to feel sick, and she just brushes it off thinking she caught juliette’s bug. but then juliette gets better and belle is still feeling like GARBAGE. and eventually it clicks that it’s because she’s pregnant <3 i think this third one catches them both off guard just a bit because the girls came so quickly one after the other and then it’s been almost five years and nothin??? i mean it’s the 18th century it’s not like they were doing anything to prevent it. (i am aware of 18th century contraception methods but these two definitely were not using them lmao). regardless, when it finally clicks, adam and belle are both just sort of like “oh shit!!!! NICE!!!!” lmao. they had gotten settled in life with their two girlies, but they’re certainly not mad about adding to their number 💖

as far as the girls’ reactions, i would also like to write that some time, but haven’t yet. in general, i think renée (who was very nearly 7) just EXPLODES with a million questions. she’s also very adamant that this baby Must be another girl (spoiler alert: it was not💙) and she’s just in general trying to be as obnoxiously involved as possible. she’s always tossing out name ideas (usually characters from the books she’s reading, but also lots of flower names like chrysanthemum and hyacinth). she also loves putting her hand on belle’s growing bump and asking “what’s the baby doing now??” like 20 times a day. (she loses her mind whenever she feels him kick🥹)

juliette, on the other hand, takes a long time to process it (it’s the autism, but also she’s just younger). but it sort of helps that, at the time, lumiere & plumette were already expecting their second child. so adam & belle could be like “you know how auntie plumette is gonna have a baby soon? well now so are WE!” and juliette’s like “oooooohhhhh 🤔 (doesn’t get it at all).” but when that baby arrives (a lil lad named xavier🥰🧡) juliette gathers what’s going on. that is a BABY. she does like feeling the baby in mama’s tummy move as well, it’s very wild to her. she’s much more quietly curious about her future little sibling than renée is, but she’s just as excited when they do finally meet him. which i HAVE written 🥹🥹🥹

AND, juliette gets the credit for giving her little brother his lifelong nickname. when her parents told her they were naming him maurice, she very quietly replied “hi, reece☺️” and he is forever called reece/reecy by his family and friends henceforth 🩵 (it also helps to differentiate from his beloved namesake grandfather!)

renée isn’t super excited about having a brother instead of another sister, (especially when lumiere and plumette already have TWO boys. (ENOUGH WITH THE BOYS IN THIS GOSH DANG CASTLE!!!😒)) but she does come to love him!! even though he’s annoying as hell!!! but it’s his gotdamn right as the little brother💛

#i can’t thank you enough my guy. i love this family more than anything 😭#also a little side note in the vast world of my canons: in modern au. reecy’s appearance is a bit different #because in modern au… i think adam and belle WERE only planning on having two kids. so maurice was straight up an accident #I MEAN SURPRISE 😉🫶#belle is very enthused. she’d have ten kids with adam if he let them #but ADAM is an autistic rigid planner guy (affectionate)#and they do amicably come to the agreement early on that they’ll both be happy with two kiddos #and it’s valid! belle agrees ! because they do travel so much. so having more than two would be such a production #(and two already IS)#(also they both didn’t want just one because they were both only children and neither liked it)#anyway my point is. when surprise baby number 3 happens. adam is definitely thrown for a loop #he’s not Mad but he’s just like. No!!!! The Plans I’ve Made!!!!! Aaahh!!!#he’s just autistic it’s fine <3 he’s overall happy about it!!! just had to process #he loves his baby boy sooooooo much i’m obsessed with their relationship 😭#anyway just wanted to throw that in but wanted the post to remain in canon 💖#thank you for asking alex. i love you <3 #batb 2017 #batb headcanons #adelle

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ms-hells-bells · 1 year

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you guys know that pretty much every single political group in history has had the moderate reformists and the radical revolutionaries, right? and that even though they disagree about certain methods, their goal being the same means that they cooperate in order to achieve more attainable short term progress while actions are taken at the same time for long term progress? this is what liberal feminists used to be to radical feminists, the two groups did not hate each other, they just had different outlooks, but generally respected what the other group was trying to (and had some success to) achieve. we lost this dynamic and relationship with the post modern, genderist overtake of liberal feminism, and so it is clear to me that we are in dire need of that role again, with the same repeating schisms in approach that appear under the singular label of radical feminism.

at the very least, we need to establish a differentiation in reformist (i don't mean surface level equality feminism, but looking at practicality and realistic, incremental actions, and harm reduction for women while the other group is more about instant action towards the big picture of abolishment of the system, which won't occur tomorrow or any time soon considering most of the world is NOT radical feminists) and revolutionary radfems purely for the sake of having that instant understanding of how the other faction thinks, and not having these aggressive arguments over and over again when it is clear that it's not a misunderstanding or hypocrisy or bigotry (well, sometimes it is, but i mean the core issue), but a fundamental difference in worldview that is unlikely to heavily change with defensive and highly tense online debates that keep happening over and over.

this is all i'm going to say for this round of 'oh my god everything is imploding again'. this is also not saying anything specific about certain people or making judgement upon individual incidents on either side, i'm not getting into that. just a general thought after looking at repeating patterns of conflict.

#this is one of the main reasons why i don't get involved #i think both groups are correct in their core beliefs but just serve different necessary purposes #the best comparison i can think of is the hong kong protests #they had a group that fought directly with the police #and another group that didn't want to do that but instead provided supplies first aid shelter and great pr #or the two factions of the civil rights movement #i'm genuinely not both sidesing this though i do think both sides go too far with the insults and bad faith interpretations #BUT a lot of it is self admitting non radfem bad actors that excitedly jump in to insult whatever women they can #plenty are self proclaimed radfems though so i won't place all of it on them #but yeah i genuinely think both sides have not just valid but correct and necessary points that many don't seem to understand #that they can exist and not contradict

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hazmatazz · 1 year

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unpopular opinion: everyone should shut up :)

#babble #complaining #this is about the byler discourse. i'm so tired because everyone is mad at eachother when some of you literally agree and hnnngg #some of you do genuinely suck but a lot of the ppl on my dash are getting mad over a miscommunication (not everyone but a lot)#this is what my ''st fans learn difference between fanon and canon challenge'' post was about #both of the sides are forgetting fandom exists and sometimes will contradict canon #and ppl shouldn't get pissy over it! from either side! hnng #sometimes you'll disagree w a person. both of you shut up and have a civil fucking conversation #and don't spam ppl??? or send hate mail.?? ARG #those are like actual ppl behind those blogs ...stop being dicks to their face...you just disagree on something #again this goes for BOTH SIDES. both of you have got on my nerves. ily but god damn...#some of you make good arguments but it feels like you're arguing against different things #whether a hc is valid (yes) vs. whether it's likely canon/should be canon (no)#like??? so many ppl on both sides agree w that and they just??? keep fighting?? because the think the other side is against it?#hnnnng #i mean yeah some ppl have said the hc isn't valid which ugh shut up and i bet someone said it should be canon (personally disagree)#but just. my dash is full of people having miscommunication....tiring at this point

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designernishiki · 1 year

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hot take (aka headcanon) but I kinda think that nishiki and kiryu’s relationship pre-split wasn’t on both sides platonic/familial or fully romantic; I feel like nishiki had a thing for him (not sure if he fully realized it though) and that he had developed feelings for kiryu over the course of a good long time that were deeply confusing on their own, but even more so considering they would’ve been hard to sort out with what could just be attributed to close friendship or a familial-type bond.

and on the other side of this, kiryu was utterly oblivious and never thought to question what they had as being anything other than a close friendship or familial-type relationship or whatever it was being called out loud (we know kiryu, he’s blunt as hell and takes things at face value– not the best at reading between the lines) hence why the split between them, though both were clearly hurt a ton by it, hit nishiki harder and more acutely– because on top of losing the most important person in his life, which is bad enough, it would’ve crushed any tiny shred of hope he may have had to live out his long-time, perhaps even since-childhood fantasy of being by kiryu’s side forever as his one true confidant, in a more intimate way than as a friend.

#rambling #sad boy hours #this also ties into why I hc nishiki as being gay rather than bi for the most part (though both are absolutely valid and understandable)#won’t get into that here too much but yeah there’s just… a lot of tragic gay angst that can be associated with him and the way he handles m #(or doesn’t handle) their little… breakup and whatnot #and as for kiryu’s side of things. honestly if things went a different way than they did I don’t think something beyond friendship would be #out of the question. it’s just. I don’t think kiryu would’ve ever considered the concept because he’s so clueless #when it comes to relationships and romance and so on and furthermore because of the way he was brought up- which of course wouldn’t really #highlight the idea that falling for a guy (or vice versa) is even a possibility let alone that it’d be applicable to him and someone so #close to him and whatnot. learning about nishiki’s past feelings for him in a hypothetical post-kiwami situation I think would make #him short circuit. and to literally anyone else who knew about nishiki’s actions after the split and all it’d all click and make perfect #sense hearing that. but to kiryu it’d take some fuckin Time to process #I think the past would be in the past by whatever hypothetical future point this is but still its a lot to apply to some of the most #important and fundamental parts of/events of his life. hh. yeah. tack on some guilt if you wanna say kiryu would be with majima at that #point (however you define ‘with’– important part is It’s Not Straight) so the potential there- whatever it was- wasn’t totally nothing like #it would be if he was simply straight and thus it would’ve never been a possible relationship outcome #but. yeah. anyway. sorry I’m. I need to stop I’m going insane I think l #I hope I don’t sound too insane or controversial for this take gahdhshdh have mercy on me #it’s. it’s all just ideas. thoughts. in a game. in minecraft. etc #nishiki #kiryu #yakuza #long post

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kimmkitsuragi · 2 years

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if this is the amount of fighting after practice videos. will we survive the next season 🥴

#this gave me a headache in the morning first thing LMAO #this 🤏 close to changing my url and fleeing the fadom 💀#btw like i think a lot of people from BOTH sides have valid points and things i agree with. but im also tired im sorry 😭#THIS occupied my morning more than the new mcr song. my lifestyle calls for drastic changes bc of that i think #rants #figure skating

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halalchampagnesocialist · 3 days

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How to spot Liberal Zionist Propaganda 101

This post is by no means exhaustive at all. There are many Liberal Zionist talking points but these are just some of the most common ones. While on the surface they seem a little naive and hopeful at best, they are very much harmful. If you claim to be an ally to Palestinians, this post is primarily for you!

For starters, liberal Zionists will often try to both-sides the issue of Palestine, talk about how it's complicated, they'll claim that the conflict hurts both Israelis and Palestinians, how the only way forward is one where Jews and Arabs "just need to get along," amongst other things. They also often like to centre themselves, even when acknowledging Palestinians as the victims of Israel or this "conflict." From time to time, they also like to engage in tokenising certain Palestinians whose views tend to more or less align with theirs. Here are some common arguments you may hear from them:

1. Any form of justifying Israel's existence or claiming that the only solution is two states

It does not really need to be said why justifying Israel's existence is harmful but justifying its continued existence also means legitimising Israel's land theft, its expulsions of Palestinians, and its ongoing harm to Palestinians and other populations. Reducing any sorts of “solutions” into a binary is unhelpful. Needless to say, a 2ss would not even address any legitimate concerns Palestinian have, such as the right of return, and would only legitimise Israel’s colonialism. Talking about a two-state solution also implies that the root of the conflict lies in Palestinians not having their own state rather than being an occupied people. It is very much also possible to construct a paradigm where Jews and Palestinians both live together on the same land as equal citizens that doesn't involve two separate states, much less an ethnostate.

2. Security for Israel could only come through peace

This is a similar talking point to the one above. Not only does it centre Israeli safety and security above Palestinian liberation but it mistakenly assumes that once Israel makes peace with Palestinians, it'll achieve security. The reality, however, is that Israel's imagined security has quite often come at the expense of peace. In fact, "peace" has just acted as nothing more than a smoke-screen for Israel to carry out its expansionist policies, particularly in the West Bank. When liberal Zionists talk about peace juxtaposed with Israeli security, they're talking about attaining a negative peace rather than a positive one.

3. Israelis are not their government.

This point does nothing to actually help Palestinians. It is also an incredibly tone-deaf thing to say when Israel has targeted many Palestinian civilians by having alleged proximity to Hamas, such as being family members of militants or leaders (inc. children!), civil servants in a Hamas-led government, or even any male above the age of 15 they consider to be a potential combatant! It also deliberately erases Israeli civilians' support of and culpability in Israel's actions towards Palestinians.

4. Netanyahu and/or the Israeli right are the source of conflict.

While it is true that things have gotten inadvertently worse under Israel's various right-wing governments, they are not the source of conflict, but rather a product of extremist nationalism and Jewish supremacy perpetuated by the system. Both the 1967 occupations and settlements were undertaken under centre-left governments in Israel, and Israeli policy under non-right wing governments has been just as harmful towards Palestinians and has paved the way for where we are today. Blaming Netanyahu just also obscures the violent nature of Israel's military occupation over Palestinians which long precede him coming into power.

5. Netanyahu and Hamas are two sides of the same coin

I don't think I've seen any allies give validity to this claim but it's an extremely reductionist claim and is sort of similar to the one above. Groups like Hamas are merely a response to the Israeli occupation while Netanyahu is a byproduct of it. While some Israelis may see Hamas or their actions as an "obstacle to peace," Israel's actions and policies long pre-date Hamas and how Israel is currently responding to Hamas is no different to how Israel has engaged with Palestinian militant groups in the past, regardless of political affiliations or political goals. It is also important to note that Hamas has agreed to the establishment of a state along 1967 borders while Netanyahu aims to prolong the occupation and empower the settler movement (some of whom are part of his coalition government) as much as possible.

6. Israel is not a settler-colonial state.

While it is indisputable that Jews have historical connections to Palestine, that doesn’t automatically make you Indigenous or negate Israeli settler-colonialism. Colonialism in particular describes a relationship of exploitation. There are many cases of this, but we most clearly see this in the West Bank where Israel exploits natural resources on occupied Palestinian territory for its own political and economic gains. In terms of settler-colonialism, it is widely known that Israel expelled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to make way for Jewish refugees and migrants to the new state of Israel, and is still actively facilitating Jewish migration to Israel today while denying Palestinians their right of return.

7. (X) doesn't help Palestinians.

It is not up to anyone to determine whether certain tactics or strategies are helpful or not. This point only seeks to discredit pro-Palestine organising. Only Palestinians get to decide what is actually helpful for the cause or not.

8. Any sort of Hamas-blaming.

On the surface it may seem like there’s nothing wrong with this, but this point is often harmful and usually lends itself to right-wing talking points because its objective is to deflect blame away from Israel. Certain arguments blaming Hamas also aim to minimise Palestinian suffering perpetuated by Israel. It also paints Israeli violence as retaliatory to Palestinian violence which only obfuscates Israel’s (and by extension, the US’) role in its state military apparatus and the differing power dynamics between Israelis and Palestinians. In other contexts, this point seeks to also legitimise certain opposition, such as the Palestinian Authority. Hamas-blaming also tends to sometimes lead to racist diatribes about Palestinians and their culture.

9. Al-Jazeera is not a credible news source.

Al Jazeera is a news source like any other. It has varying editorial policies and therefore will have equally good reporting on certain issues while having terrible reporting on others. The difference is that Al-Jazeera's news on Palestine is credible because it comes directly from their Palestinian reporters on the ground and first-hand eyewitness accounts. Western news sources are no more or less credible than al-Jazeera. Compare this to CNN, NYT, and any other Western news sources where Palestinian voices are often entirely missing from the narrative.

10. Overemphasis of antisemitism on the left

Antisemitism is a real issue and has the potential to fester in left circles if not directly addressed head on. Combatting antisemitism is extremely important, however, it is not an issue exclusive to the left. There is also a double standard in that no one expects Zionists to call out Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian racism. Certain accusations of "antisemitism" also seek to distract from what's going on in Palestine by making it about Jewish comfort and feelings. Combatting antisemitism, Islamophobia, anti-Arab racism etc is always important as the basis of good politics.

Last but not least, be wary of native collaborators or any sort of normalisers! They are Palestinians or Arabs who try very hard to appeal to Western liberal consensus and can end up perpetuating a lot of harm to the cause and/or other activists. You will know them when you see them.

#palestine #israel #liberal zionism #other palestinians feel free to add onto this whether it be other points or anything else

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saetoru · 6 months

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BEWARE OF PHAGOCYTIC RAIN — AL-HAITHAM.

kinktober day three — aphrodisiacs ; find masterlist here

synopsis. the akademiya textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea, and mild sexual arousal. except the textbook lied. it’s not mild. al-haitham and you might need to pause your desert trip for a moment

length. 4.3k words (omg this is the shortest one so far)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs + dub con, mentions of injuries and blood (al-haitham gets stung by a consecrated scorpion), reader sits on his lap, hand jobs, unprotected sex, no prep, riding, creampie, implied (future) multiple orgasms, reader is mentioned to have a dendro vision + is a haravatat scholar

notes. i made this up. the new consecrated scorpions lore is that their venom can be a sex stimulant thanks

“haitham,” you complain—although, you probably really shouldn’t. in fact, you definitely should not complain. al-haitham has so graciously allowed you to accompany this trip to the desert, and you should not get in the way. still, your feet ache, and the sun is blaring, and god—would kill you both to have a break? “can’t we just stop for a bit?”

but with you, al-haitham is always patient. you can see him diligently take the time to be patient as he stills and sighs quietly, not letting himself ever get frustrated with you. “it’ll get cold if night falls,” he reasons, “c’mon, you’ll definitely want to rest inside the ruins instead of outside tonight.”

“but baby,” you protest, “my feet hurt.”

“i know,” he nods, like validating your feelings will make them any better, “but the safest option would be to camp inside the ruins instead of out here—”

“hey, haitham?” you cut him off, suddenly whispering quietly as you huddle closer, “what…what’s that?” he looks over his shoulder to where you point—and then he stiffens.

“oh, great,” he hisses, groaning under his breath, “seriously? now?”

what looks like a giant scorpion seems to be pacing in the distance, the large, sharp stinger on its tail clear as day, even from where you stand, a good range away. you’ve never seen one of these before, never even heard of giant scorpions that roam the desert. al-haitham has certainly never told you about seeing them, with all the times he visits the desert himself. he seems rather familiar with them, too, staring exasperatedly off at the beast as it circles the territory you absolutely have to pass.

“why is there a giant scorpion here? are there always these things in the desert? i’ve never heard of—wait,” you pause, “i have a textbook from the akademiya on desert exploration. i brought it just in case!”

“we don’t need that,” he insists, “i’ve dealt with these plenty of times. just leave it to me.”

you’ve never been to the desert—but al-haitham always mentions the ancient letters he sees in the ruins he explores. it’s tempting; being a scholar is always the never-ending temptation of knowledge—and you are both haravatat scholars, after all. studying an ancient alphabet is enough to make you plead with al-haitham to take you with him on his next trip.

he can’t say no to you, of course—he never can. but it’s your first time here, and evidently…it’s not going exactly as planned.

you open the book, skimming through the pages before your eyes land on a sketch that looks strikingly similar to the same beast you see in the distance. the textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. that seems like complete and utter bullshit��this seems rather deadly.

“haitham,” you whisper, “i think we should leave. this doesn’t seem—”

“we can take it,” he argues, “i’ve taken them before on my own quite a lot in the past.”

“but baby, this one seems a bit big—”

“it’ll be fine,” he assures.

you sigh, looking back at the book and scanning over the section that goes into detail about its attack patterns. “okay, fine—let me just read over how they attack so i know what to expect.”

phagocytic form—beasts enter phagocytic form immediately when in combat, resulting in an increase in resistance to all elements. there is double the resistance to electro attacks. well, you think, it’s a good thing cyno isn’t the one fighting today—otherwise, you think you might be screwed.

this is fine. everything is fine. you and al-haitham both have dendro visions; this shouldn’t be too bad, right?

melee combo one—beasts perform a two-part combo with their claws. alright, not too bad. you can easily dodge that, you reason. melee combo two—beasts perform a three-part combo consisting of a single strike with both claws, a flurry of claw strikes while rushing forward, and a projectile fired from its stinger. now that seems a bit troublesome, but you’ve dealt with worse.

“i’ll take care of it,” al-haitham calls over his shoulder, catching your attention as he draws out his sword. you look up from the pages frantically.

“wait, i really think we should handle this together if we’re going to take this. just let me read on the attack patterns a bit more—”

he’s already made the first attack. you can hear the angry hiss of the scorpion, can practically see the fury in its beady eyes from behind the thick skull covering its head. al-haitham, to your slight comfort, dodges melee combos one and two expertly.

maybe he was right—maybe you’ve been panicking for nothing.

you look back at the book. dig—beasts dig into the ground and attack the target from below, staying within the range of a visible electro ring. alright, as long as you leave the ring before the scorpion pops out of the ground, you should be fine. nothing to worry about. spikes—beasts plug their tails into the ground and rapidly produce spikes around themselves to shock targets. another easy dodge—you just have to make sure you escape the vicinity.

you look up, and al-haitham has already easily leapt from the ring and landed himself on higher ground. he waits, watches as the beast emerges from underground, and plants its tail into the ground—this must be the spikes. al-haitham is rather excellent at fighting these things—you have to admit. as soon as the spikes are gone, he takes his chance to plunge down, perfectly landing a hard hit to its head with the edge of his sword, making its body slump to the ground.

he might just finish this alone like he said.

“there,” he nods, flashing you a smooth grin, “i told you i’d handle it. now then, let’s—”

the loud, sinister hiss from behind cuts him off—it makes you watch in abject horror as the scorpion rises and does a rapid spin.

you look over the pages as quickly as you can—is there more? there’s nothing else on the page, is there? you quickly flick your eyes to the next page and—oh.

oh no.

phagocytic rain—beasts rapidly spin and scatter many stingers into the air before slamming their claws and unleashing stingers down from above. these stingers, once pierced into the skin, can cause side effects as a result of consecrated venom.

“well, it’s never done that before,” al-haitham holds up his sword, getting ready to fight.

no. he has to get away—he needs to get away. the words don’t come quick enough from your throat as you scream, “haitham, no! you have to get away—”

it’s too late. you can hear him let out a strangled groan of pain, clutching his arm as his sword instantly falls to the floor, a gash already decorating his skin from a stinger he didn’t manage to dodge. before you can even think, you grab your weapon and run, leaping between al-haitham and the scorpion and landing another perfect blow to its head—just before that giant, deadly-looking stinger on its tail can plunge into him.

it goes limp, falling to the floor with a thud, the glow of its body dimming instantly.

“fuck,” he curses—al-haitham rarely curses. this is not a light sting. “since when do they do that?”

“since forever,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of his cape to press on his wound and stop the blood flow, “maybe if you’d just listened to me and read the attack patterns with me, you’d have known that.”

“i’ve fought these plenty of times,” he says indignantly, teeth still grit in pain, “they never do that.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a know it all,” you grumble—but then you gently reach over, cupping his cheek as you trace a thumb over the skin comfortingly, “is it too bad?” you ask, concern evident enough in your tone that he feels slightly bad.

al-haitham shakes his head, sighing quietly as you kiss his jaw. “i’ll be fine. i’ll just patch it up before we camp for the night.”

“are you sure? maybe we should—”

“it’ll be fine,” he hums, “their venom isn’t deadly anyway.”

—————

you and al-haitham manage to make it to the ruins by nightfall. somehow, miraculously, the two of you are able to trek towards the pyramid and seek shelter indoors for the night, right before it gets too dark and too cold.

al-haitham seems to act stranger and stranger as time goes on, quietly sitting in a corner against the wall and patching his arm up himself as you set up the fire by the tent. you look over at him and watch as he shudders and groans lightly.

“are you sure you’re alright?” you ask in concern, walking over and sitting as you curl up next to him, raising a brow as his body seems to stiffen at your touch, “baby, you seem…”

“i’m fine,” he says curtly.

you don’t seem to be convinced, furrowing your brows before pressing a palm to his forehead—hot. incredibly and unnaturally hot skin that’s flushed a shade of crimson you hardly see on al-haitham, even when you tease him in that cheeky, flirty little way of yours that dusts blush over his face every time.

“haitham,” you gasp, hand brushing back his bangs to feel more of his skin—it’s only then, do you realize just how sweaty his skin seems to be, too. “you’re burning up!”

“i’m okay—”

“maybe you should take your shirt off,” you say quickly, wiping the sweat from his forehead as you sit up straight, “it’s just the two of us here, anyway. it’ll be fine—”

“no,” he grits, voice strangled, “i’m—hah” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, “—i’m okay. just leave me alone, please. i’ll just go walk it off in a bit.”

he’s panting. you can hear the way his voice is strained and the way his chest rises and falls rather rapidly. you should check the book again, just to see if there’s anything about the side effects in the event you do happen to get stung.

“hmm, the textbook says—”

“do not read the textbook,” he practically begs.

you do anyway. “possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea,” you start, glancing up at him and eyeing his patched arm, “well, there was some swelling. are you nauseous?”

“no,” he almost wheezes out.

“let’s see, and it also says it can cause—oh.”

possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea—you pause and swallow thickly as you read over the final part—and mild sexual arousal. sexual arousal. well, that would explain the heated and flushed skin, you suppose. and the sweat. you glance up at al-haitham—he does anything but meet your eyes.

“i told you,” he says stiffly, muffling a groan as he crosses his arms and hunches forward, “i’ll be fine—”

“baby,” you hum, chuckling slightly as you run a hand through his hair—he gulps, still avoiding your gaze, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“don’t,” he warns, jaw clenching as he looks up and stares at you with that same look of hunger you’ve seen so many times before. it’s clear al-haitham is trying to fight off whatever he’s feeling—but the reality is clear.

he’s very quickly losing himself to his desires.

“but it’s just us in here,” you insist, hand trailing down his chest slowly before settling on his thigh. his breath hitches, following your hand with his eyes as it rubs along slowly and moves closer and closer inwards. “these ruins have been abandoned for who knows how long—and we’re the only ones from the akademiya cleared to explore them.”

“don’t,” he says again—there’s a warning tone to his voice this time, slightly more raspy and entirely more breathless, “if…if i start, i don’t know if i’ll be able to stop.”

“oh, but haitham,” you pout, slinging a leg over his waist and seating yourself on his lap. you stare down at his crotch—wet. there’s a very noticeable wet patch over the bulge in his pants. you wonder how you didn’t notice it sooner. “who says i’d want you to stop?”

“love, i’m serious,” he closes his eyes and swallows, panting as a bead of sweat rolls down his temple, “you should sleep. i’ll be okay—o-oh, fuck,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, hissing as you reach past his waistband and free his strained cock from the confinements.

it’s thick, his erection—probably far more swollen than you’ve ever seen it before. it almost looks painful, with how red it is at the tip, with how it twitches from nothing else but the cool air hitting the heated skin. you think it might just be aching, in fact, from how he whimpers as you wrap a hand around it, just barely squeezing, just barely applying pressure to really relieve anything.

“hmm,” you look down, inspecting, “seems sensitive.” you give it a slow, experimental stroke, instantly making him groan loudly as his head falls back, a stream of pre cum leaking from the tip enough to coat his already slick cock.

“fuck, fuck—more,” he rasps, hand grabbing your thigh and squeezing hard to ground himself.

“okay,” you murmur, nodding to yourself, “very sensitive. guess we’ll just have to get this out of your system.”

you drag your hand over his length, slow at first, before building up a quick, steady rhythm—just the way he’s always liked it. you lean in, kissing along his jaw as he writhes under you while you squeeze around the base of his cock, rolling your palm over his tip before repeating the motion over and over and over again.

his mouth is parted, low groans and the occasional soft whine fall past his lips, making the ache between your own legs worsen as you watch him fall apart. there’s a dull throb in your core, and you can feel the fabric of your underwear dampen, but all you’re worried about for now is the man before you. any other time, you’d think it’s a bit shameless, doing something so dirty, so filthy, so inappropriate in the middle of the desert like this–especially while on a research expedition, no less. but you couldn’t just leave your boyfriend to suffer like this, could you? what kind of girlfriend would you be then? and you’re not so cruel as to leave al-haitham to suffer like this all night, or longer, even—who knows how long before the side effects wear off? it’s the wisest choice to just help him, to take care of him like he always takes care of you.

that’s right, you think to yourself—you’re helping him like any doting lover would. you’re not at all interested by this predicament of his…or aroused, for that matter. no, you’re simply worried for him, and it’s up to you to relieve him of the painfully frustrating tension he must be suffering through after he so graciously fought to protect you from the dangers of the desert.

“jus’ like that,” he gasps as you touch him, chest still rising and falling as quickly as before—his shirt is damp too, a noticeable wet patch forming over most of it as the sweat collects on the fabric, “d-don’t stop—fuck, feels so good.”

“c’mon, haitham,” you murmur, taking your other hand to tug at the end of his shirt, “take this off—i told you, you’ll feel better.”

he listens—whatever is in that venom must be something strong because al-haitham is the most stubborn individual you’ve ever met. under normal circumstances, he’d refuse to take his shirt off even if, deep down, he knew himself it’d help. but right now, he quickly reaches at the hem before pulling it off, tossing it to the side as his bare chest is exposed for you to admire. his usual pale skin is flushed, a soft pink that glistens from the sweat that he can’t seem to get rid of, even as you work his swollen cock with your fist.

it’s pretty, the way he sounds, the way he looks. you run a thumb over his slit, and he whimpers. not too often of times have you heard al-haitham whimper—but today, he seems to have lost any and all control, too busy thrusting his hips up to meet your strokes as he moans lowly.

“when’d you start to feel it?” you ask curiously, pecking his forehead as you leave scattered kisses along his face, “how long have you been trying to play it off?”

“s-since…” he starts, but he trails off as your thumb traces over a thick being along the underside of his length, letting out a soft whine at the feeling before bucking his hip into your hand more desperately. you don’t think you’ve ever seen al-haitham so worked up—so needy and riled up and painfully fucked out before he’s even cum yet. “since i f-first got stung,” he admits through labored breaths, “just got worse slowly.”

“you should’ve told me,” you coo, “not like i don’t see you like this anyway. poor thing,” you pout softly, eyeing the way his cock twitches in your hand, more beads of pre cum oozing from the tip and leaving a stream down his length, “looks like it hurts.”

“it does,” he rasps, “feels…feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“don’t worry,” you hum, squeezing tighter around him, working him quicker as your hand jerks his aching cock off with a tight fist, “i’ll help you cum. ‘s what you deserve for fighting that thing for me. my strong baby.”

“c-close,” he says through a cracked voice, like the praise is enough to send him hurtling over the edge, “‘m so close—sh-shit.”

“yeah?” you ask sweetly, pecking his forehead, “then cum, baby. think you’ll feel much better.”

you roll a thumb over his nipple, hard under the pad of your thumb, and enough to make him gasp loudly before he lets out a deep grunt, cum spilling from his sensitive tip. it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him—thick, endless ropes of hot, sticky cum coating your hand and his abs as you pump his cock through his orgasm. you’re glad you made him take his shirt off—this would’ve been an even more unpleasant trip if he’d had to walk around in a soiled shirt.

“fuck, f-fuck—so g-good,” he stutters, his head thrown back against the wall that supports his body, legs spreading apart to give you better access to working his cock through his high. one hand reaches to play with his balls as you milk his cock, squeezing as you stroke upwards and watch every thick drop of cum shoot past his tip.

it feels like forever, his orgasm. it’s long, and his voice is strained from calling your name over and over by the time he’s finished—but he’s still just as hard as before. no—in fact, you think he might be even harder.

“well…” you start, staring at his erection as it rests against his sculpted abs, “i don’t think that did much.”

“no,” he pants, staring at you through lust-hazed eyes, “it didn’t. but i have an idea that might help, though.”

“yeah? what is it, oh wise grand sage?”

al-haitham, for the first time ever, doesn’t correct you that he’s the acting grand sage. instead, he lifts you up slightly and pulls your pants down to pool at your ankles before lining your dripping cunt over his cock. you bite your lip, moving to ever so slightly drag his tip along your clit, making the both of you shiver with a desperate gasp at the ghost friction.

“i think,” he starts, finger circling your clit slowly as you whine before letting your head fall to the crook of his neck, “that perhaps fucking you might be the only way to get this out of my system. what do you say?”

“haitham, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his shoulders as you clutch onto him, “need you.”

“yeah?” he chuckles breathlessly, replacing his finger and teasing your folds with the tip of his cock, coating the head with the slick of your pussy as you quiver over him, “need me, huh? i thought i was the one who got stung. shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

you would scoff if you weren’t aching to feel the burning stretch of him intruding your neglected cunt—al-haitham always finds a way to be himself at the end of the day. always so frustratingly confident and painfully good at teasing.

“fuck me, haitham,” you plead, pushing your hips down until the first few inches of his length push past your entrance, dragging his tip along your folds and pulling a whine from you as he chokes on a low groan.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, “so tight—a-always so tight.”

his hands grasp at your hips, slowly guiding you to sink all the way down on his cock, taking it inch by inch until he’s buried all the way, his tip nudging perfectly against that sensitive spot in the back of your walls. al-haitham feels like he’s been made just for you like that—fitting you perfectly enough that he hits all the right spots without even trying, without even having to angle his hips in order to give you what you need from him.

you feel sweat collect on your own forehead, mirroring the same glistening of his own skin as you bite your lip and whimper out a pathetic, “h-haitham, more—please.”

“it’s a good thing i brought you with me,” he pants as he snaps his hips up, his hands still guiding your hips to bounce on his cock as you pull up before slamming back down, your walls hugging his thick girth tightly while his fat tip presses against your sweet spot. “imagine where i’d be if you weren’t here. j-jus’ wouldn’t feel the same if i was fucking my fist instead of this sweet cunt.”

the stretch is too good—the way he splits you open as he bullies into your pussy, pushing past your folds and dragging his thick veins along your walls, makes your head spin, pleasure burning up your nerves and spreading across your entire body. your lips attach themselves to his neck, kissing and sucking along the skin as he groans and tightens his bruising grip on your hips.

“b-baby—fuck, ‘s so good,” you mewl, “h-haitham—oh.”

“take me so well,” he says breathlessly, face falling slack as your walls flutter around his length and relieve the ache that was all too overwhelming just a few moments ago—being buried into your pussy is enough to turn the tight grit of his jaw into a loose, parted lips as he moans your name. “taking it so well, like the good girl you are. you—ngh, fuck—you want to make me feel better, don’t you?”

“i do,” you nod, sobbing as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harsh circles into the delicate bundle of nerves, “i do, i do—please, haitham. faster, need more.”

“yeah?” he lets out a strangled chuckle, biting his lip and groaning as you snap your hips down particularly rough, squeezing around him tightly, “you need more? i’d almost say you were stung instead of me.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving angry, red marks in their wake as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your hips. you slam down on him with every roll of your hips, his own meeting you halfway as he bucks up, fucking into you—you can feel it, the impending high that you reach closer and closer to, every circle of his thumb on your clit and every brush of his cock against your walls bringing you close to falling off the edge.

“‘m…g-gonna cum, haitham—fuck, a-almost there, baby,” you pant, mewling as you throw your head back while he leans in to kiss your neck, biting hard enough that you almost wonder if there’s blood.

“me too,” he groans, “you…you’re so perfect,” you feel his head bury into your shoulder, his forehead digging into your shoulder as you cradle the back of his head with a hand and whine, “i’m bringing you to every trip—fuck you in every ruin i explore. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“yes, yes—please,” you babble, nodding as your back arches before you feel the coil snap—you gasp his name, a repeat of haitham, haitham, haitham, falling from your lips as he fucks into you through your high. the spasm of your walls around him sends him hurtling into his second orgasm—even more earth-shattering than the first.

“that’s it,” he moans, his voice deep and raspy as it cracks in the middle, “can’t even be mad i got stung—not when you let me fuck you l-like this. so…feels so good—’m c-cumming.”

it’s not the first time al-haitham has cum in you—but it’s never felt like this before. it’s hot, his cum—it spills into you and coats your walls in a sticky mess that forms a ring at the base of his cock as it pumps into you. the mess of his release and your arousal coats both of your thighs, leaking from your abused cunt and smearing along your skin. you can feel him twitch with every rope, can feel the way he throbs as he spills into you and paints your walls white with his release. it’s desperate—needy and so, so filthy, just like the sounds he makes into your ear, breathless pants that make your stomach do flips as you listen to him fall apart and break.

he slumps as he finishes, your body falling against him as you both pant harshly and catch your breaths. he kisses your neck delicately as you stroke his hair, admiring his spent form under you.

“as much as i hate that you got stung,” you mumble, “this…this might not have been the worst thing.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, looking up and raising a brow—it’s only then that you feel it, the twitch of his still hard cock, still buried deep in your abused cunt, “are you sure? because we aren’t nearly finished yet—i really hope you’re prepared to take it.”

the textbook may have lied, you think—this is not mild at all. this might delay your trip quite a bit.

i would go with him hoping he gets stung every time so i could suck the soul out of him tbh

#🎃 — kinkteeber !!#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you #thirstee!#teepods.writings #fics.

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yuuuhiii · 4 months

Text

I just want you ᡣ𐭩

includes : Megumi x reader , angst w fluff ending , 0.9k words , kisses

ai’s notes : I luv him sm :((( not proof read

You stomp your feet all the way into the lounging area where Nobara, Yuuji and your boyfriend were.

You could hear Nobara and Yuuji teasing Megumi and if it was any other day you’d be there to back him up, even though he didn’t really care for their words. But today wasn’t any other day, you were mad and you had a very valid reason to be.

All of their eyes are on you and Megumi softly smiles at you. It’s soon wiped off his face when you’re pulling him by the ear, Nobara and Yuuji on the verge of laughing but also amused.

“Ah!—What the hell are you doing—Y/n!”

You let him yell at you as you yank him down the hall and into an empty classroom, sliding the classroom door shut.

“What the hell is your problem!” He grabs at his ear, glaring at you, but his gaze immediately softens when he sees you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” His brows furrow. He moves to hold you but you step away, making his stomach drop.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

You’re trying to hold yourself together, biting your lip so it wouldn’t jitter. Megumi’s more than confused but he’s trying to rack his mind of every possibility, just something that he did that would have you upset this much.

“Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry.” He tries to reason and you look so broken, his heart is beating so fast but it wasn’t in the way he liked.

“Gojo-sensei told me about Mahoraga.” You glare at him and he stiffens.

Fuck.

Maybe he did lie to you about that technique, yes it was a ritual but he never told you that he had to sacrifice himself for it to work.

“You’ve tried to summon him at least five times for me!” You yell, your tears already falling, voice breaking.

He doesn’t know what to say and in a way he’s letting you break down, so you could let it all out.

“Why would you lie to me, especially about that.” You pout, sounding so desperate and hurt that it’s killing Megumi in the inside.

His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water with no oxygen. You crush him with your arms, holding on to him as if he’d disappear at any second, sobbing in his chest.

“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself like this Megumi, Gojo-sensei said you had the potential to be the strongest.” You say and he finally replies.

“I don’t want to be the strongest.”

Even though it’s a smart ass reply he’s holding you close to him, scared that things will go south and you’ll leave him.

“That’s not the point! But you can get stronger. How are you supposed to get stronger if you’re constantly trying to kill yourself.”

That makes him bite his tongue because you were right.

“I don’t care if you want to get stronger or not, I care about you.” You whimper, your cries not ceasing. Megumi combs his hands through your hair.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, I don’t want your soul, or your curse—”

“I’d never curse you.”

Your glare shuts him up.

“I want you. Like this, how I have you now, this is all I want.” You say so sincerely, holding his face in your hands.

“Alive, healthy and by my side. For as long as I can have you.”

His heart beat hasn’t slowed down, if anything it’s picked up, but now because your words have reduced him to a flushing mess. His ears and cheeks red, eyes softening.

“You’ll always have me.” He whispers, cradling your face now.

You don’t reply but you kiss him with so much passion, trying to gather up all the love you had for him and he kisses you the same way. The both of you afraid to lose each other.

Megumi couldn’t think of a world without you but he never stopped to think how you’d feel if he wasn’t in yours. Mostly because he’d do anything for you, even if that met giving up on his life for your wellbeing.

When you pull away you both are just as close, sharing each other’s breath.

“You have to promise me you won’t use it anymore, that you’ll get stronger so you don’t have to resort to that, or else I’ll leave you.”

Megumi’s hands squeeze around your waist at the last part, brows furrowing. You knew you’d never be able to but he didn’t need to know that. He rests his forehead on yours, squeezing his eyes.

“I wont use it.” He sighs.

“You promise?” You look up at him, making him melt.

“Promise.”

You lift up your pinky, and he shakes his head in amusement. Linking pinkies with you and touching your thumb, pecking it right after.

“You can’t break it, or I’ll have to cut off your pinky.” You pout and he chuckles.

“Yea I know.” He pecks your lips.

Smiling into his kiss, you lead up with a million pecks, causing his smile to rise as well.

“I love you ‘gumi.” You whisper, brushing your lips with his and he holds the small of your back.

“I love you too, so much.” He says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing a peck there as well.

At peace knowing that you were no longer mad at him.

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sutorus · 6 months

Text

HEART SHAKER

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

WC: ~1k

WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.

A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL

“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”

you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks.

you pump harder.

“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”

you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs.

“can you stop? i lost count!”

satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back.

you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin.

you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply.

“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”

you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results.

satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly.

“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”

“resident,” you correct him.

you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him.

of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was.

it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient.

“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer.

“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore.

satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”

you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg.

you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again.

“turn infinity off.”

“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”

“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”

he won’t.

“wanna play doctor?”

you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities.

grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.

he complained about a migraine to shoko.

it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times.

“how’s your head?” you ask him.

“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”

a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two.

“satoru, please.”

“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”

“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping.

satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two.

“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”

at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on.

you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out.

“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”

“hmm?”

you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face.

“why is your heart beating so fast?”

at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush.

“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“

“it’s hard, alright—“

“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you.

“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”

“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”

you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.

he hums contentedly when you pull away.

“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”

you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.

“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”

he coos.

“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”

despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.

“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”

satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.

“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.

“no problem. now shoo.”

you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.

“ah, but i was wondering—“

“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.

“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“

“out!”

he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.

you take a deep breath.

you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.

#✩.petra.doc #✩.gojo #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru au #why is tagging so embarrassing like bye #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

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noosayog · 6 months

Text

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.

“True. But he is an idiot.”

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.

“Why not?”

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.

“So, found a guy to take you out?”

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.

“‘Samu…”

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on.

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”

“Dude, nice try,” you had said.

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.

“I’ll walk with ya.”

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.

“I’m onto ya,” he starts.

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.

“Who?” you mumble.

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Are ya still in love with my brother?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Osamu raises his brows.

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.

“I wanna get him back,” you admit.

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”

“Huh?”

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.

“Osamu…”

“Am I wrong?”

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.

His question goes unanswered.

–

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.

It doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter.

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-”

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.

“Hey, ‘Samu!”

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.

“You just…?” he prompts.

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.

“And I like you so much, Osamu.”

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”

He stops stroking your hair.

“What, ya don’t like it?”

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”

You nod shyly.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“I want it.”

“Alright. C’mere then.”

You oblige.

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod.

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

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queerfables · 8 months

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The thing is, Crowley and Aziraphale's problem isn't miscommunication. I'm not the first person to point this out but I see enough posts taking this framing at face value that I feel it's worth saying again.

If Crowley and Aziraphale sat down and talked everything out calmly and rationally without hiding anything and while validating each other's feelings, they would still end up exactly where they are. Because they fundamentally DO NOT AGREE about the problem they're facing or how to address it.

Crowley should have told Aziraphale about apocalypse take two, sure, yeah, but if he had, Aziraphale would have seen it as just another reason to go back to Heaven. He finds out about the second coming and he's horrified but just as resolved in his decision.

Flip side: Aziraphale might have had a hundred good reasons for wanting Crowley to come back with him, none of which boiled down to thinking he was worth less as a demon, but it wouldn't have mattered how eloquently he articulated them. It was always going to be a deal breaker for Crowley.

To be slightly more nuanced about it, there are some things they've been avoiding saying that they really did need to put into words, even though in my opinion they both kind of knew it, already. But the painful fact is that their fight is that in action. Sometimes communicating with someone means exposing the failure points between you (and if you suspect that's going to be the case, that's a very human reason to avoid doing it).

At best, they could maybe have parted with less collateral damage to each other. But the real tragedy of their story is that there was no other way this could have gone. For a long time, their love has been thwarted by the external forces keeping them apart, but also - Aziraphale hasn't Fallen, and Crowley has never expressed any desire to return to Heaven. And just like I think they must have had at least some understanding of the depth of their feelings for each other, I think they must have understood the implications of that too. They're on opposite sides, and even with the danger, it's all very exciting and romantic - until they have to face the fact that the convictions they've held for millennia put them on opposite sides.

So if they're going to move forward together, they can't just talk about it. Crowley's right, actually, they've been talking since before the beginning of time. It isn't enough to understand each other. Together, they're going to have to change. That tentative middle ground between them is going to have to become a place they set down roots, and learn to choose and trust in even when everything else is falling apart.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #fable talks good omens

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unbidden-yidden · 6 months

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I'm not 100% sure how to articulate this, but something that has been bothering me about I/P discourse (especially in the last month, it's gotten so much worse) that I haven't seen talked about in a productive way is the "yoking" effect that the extremist ugly takes create for the good-faith people just trying to talk about their issues. And I see it on both sides, and have felt compelled to act this way myself.

Essentially, when I talk about antisemitism (especially the significant spike in the last month), my goal is focused on educating people about the antisemitism and urging them to do something about their own behavior, help groups that are working on it, and/or become part of the people working on advocacy to that effect. I just want to talk about the antisemitism, and have that stand as a topic on its own terms. But the problem is, I'm a Jew and extremists on both sides have made it so that anything I post about this requires disclaimers that I also support the rights, freedoms, and care about the lives of Palestinians also. And I do! But that's not the point. The point is that Jews facing antisemitism should be able to talk about this without bringing in a whole separate topic to prove we're worth listening to. And I saw this with Israelis trying to talk about the grief they were feeling after the Hamas pogrom; they couldn't do it without either including some kind of statement about wanting peace, separating Hamas from Palestinians as a whole, etc. or face relentless antisemitic abuse.

And this effect comes both from outside people [supposedly] supporting Palestine being awful unless the Jew in question attaches sufficient disclaimers, as well as [supposedly] pro-Israel people who couldn't help themselves from spouting off dumb racist shit in their posts on otherwise valid topics.

But as I've watched things play out, and Western outsiders become more and more antisemitic in their [supposed] support of Palestine, I've noticed Palestinians and their not-antisemitic allies having to couch their [valid] criticisms of Israel with caveats about how antisemitism is not okay, or else face harassment when talking about their legitimate issues - even ones that aren't about Israel at all.

That's what I mean by "yoking" - this inability to talk about ourselves and our own issues without bad faith actors coercing us to address the other and "prove" that we're worth listening to. It's dehumanizing, because it means that our legitimate issues are always and only ever able to be discussed in the shadow of the other. They aren't allowed to stand on their own without risking harassment.

Anyway, I think the reasons we got here are complicated, but I lay most of the blame at the feet of uninvolved westerners using this conflict as a proxy for their own problems. I don't know that there's a way to fix this at this point, either, because the discourse has become so unbelievably toxic. I think the closest thing I've got is just the suggestion that if you see a Palestinian (or ally) talking about Palestinian issues and not being antisemitic about it, don't derail what they're saying even if they don't specifically denounce Hamas outright and/or antisemitism in their post. And if Jews (including and especially Israelis) are talking about antisemitism and/or legitimate issues and aren't being racist or Islamophobic about it, don't derail what we're saying even if we don't offer caveats denouncing the Israeli government and/or Islamophobia/anti-Arab racism in that specific post.

We can support each other in the face of danger and want peace without having to constantly be forced to talk about other issues and divert focus from our own issues.

#this could probably be worded better #but this frustration has been living in my mind rent-free since I've noticed it happening in both directions #and I can't not say anything about it

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colonelarr0w · 28 days

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Geto w an S/O that’s extremely anxious and overthinks a lot, needs lots of validation and just gets so tired from having such bad anxiety. not a “i can’t stand up for myself” anxiety but a “what if that look means he’s mad at me” anxiety. i just think he’d be so caring and patient with her, gentle n soft and puts her mind at ease with careful dominance. especially if his S/O is always taking care of him and others first.

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - mature themes, Geto is so sickeningly sweet it's insane

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Suguru never failed to notice the dimness of your eyes as the sun set over Jujutsu High.

Just like the rising sun, your eyes were bright and lively in the mornings when you greeted him; lips turned upward in that smile he adored kissing and eyes crinkled with smile lines indenting the softness of your face.

But throughout the course of the day, while exorcising curses and assisting Shoko with tending to the injured, Suguru also noticed how the light in your eyes would slowly extinguish, like a candle left out on someone's bedside table.

It felt as if you were at everyone's beck and call.

If Gojo needed help with an assignment, you were there. If Utahime begged you to come on a mission with her instead of Mei Mei, you were there. If Shoko needed a light and a shoulder to lean on, you were there. If Mei Mei needed help covering her bill when you found yourselves out, you were there. If Nanami needed help before a mission, you were there.

But at the end of the day, Suguru had to ask – who was there for you?

Who was there for you when you returned from tougher missions? Who was there for you when you needed a shoulder to cry on? Who was there for you when you needed an extra body to hold at night?

Who was there for you in the way that you were there for others?

Well...he was.

"Oh, there you are angel. I was looking everywhere for you," Suguru says with a smile, arms laden with white plastic bags from the convenience store. His eyes quickly take in the sight of your face, smile fading as he notices the noticeable bags beneath your eyes and the dulled color of your irises.

"Were you?" you mutter offhandedly, leaning against the doorframe of your dormitory and willing yourself to smile at him – though it doesn't quite reach your eyes the way that Suguru was used to.

He nods at you, silently stepping past you as your body shifts to permit him entry into your dorm. Your eyes flicker curiously down to the bags that he holds, but you say nothing to him as he sets them down on the countertop of your dormitory's kitchenette.

"I got you some of your favorites," he pauses to remove the snacks mentioned, shaking the bags at you and smiling, "and I picked up a movie that we could watch together."

You press your lips together to suppress the yawn that claws at the base of your throat, wanting nothing more than to curl into your bedsheets and simply vanish. But at the same time, Suguru's voice was doing wonders to drown out the cold whispers that lingered in the back of your mind.

You continue to keep your eyes on Suguru, watching as he removes bags of chips, candy, and soda bottles from the plastic bags, laying them out over the countertop and smiling as he points each one out to you. Sure, his voice was a muffled buzz to your ears – but it was better than listening to whispers of the worst "what if's".

"Angel?" Suguru turns to you, eyebrows pinching together in worry at the faraway look that had glazed over your eyes. You quickly shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality with a quiet hum, paired then with a flicker of your gaze. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," you quickly reply, clearing your throat and wringing your hands out in front of you like a wet towel, "I'm fine."

Suguru closes the small distance between the both of you, hands extending to tenderly hold the sides of your face. The pads of his thumbs smooth against the skin just underneath your eyes, gentle gaze holding your own.

"I hope you know that I'm very proud of you," he whispers, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips against your skin, a small yet tired sigh falling from your nose. Your body melts into his own, your face squished against the palms of Suguru's hands.

"You do so much for everyone, you must be exhausted," Suguru comments, tilting your face so that your gaze meets his own. He purses his lips, his eyes softening at the exhausted expression that had worked its way onto your face. "Come on angel, why don't we go sit down?"

You allow Suguru to lead you towards the couch, sitting you down and holding a finger up at you. He walks quickly back to your kitchenette, gathering the snacks that he had bought into his arms and bringing them to you, allowing you to pick and choose which snacks you wanted.

Your boyfriend takes a seat beside you on the couch, opening his arms to you and humming in content as you crawl towards him, resting your head on his chest and squeezing your arms around his midsection. His cheek leans against your hair, fingers rubbing gentle circles into the exposed skin of your sides.

Your cheek smushes gently against his t-shirt, eyes fluttering shut as an odd feeling of relaxation finally washes over you – eliminating any and all exhaustion that had been previously shackled to your ankles. His scent had always been so comforting to you; that mixture of incense and sandalwood that was just so unapologetically him.

Suguru hums as your arms squeeze around him, the vibration against your cheek lulling you further into a state of relaxation, one that you welcomed like a warm hug. "Better?"

You grumble something incoherent against his shirt, squeezing at him as you feel his body begin to shift underneath your own. He smiles, craning his neck to press a chaste kiss against the top of your head, tugging you closer and threading his fingers through your hair, nails raking your scalp comfortingly.

"I'm so grateful to have you in my life angel," Suguru whispers against your hair, the hand resting on your waist continuing to draw comforting circles into the exposed skin. His lips ghost your forehead, then pressing a gentle kiss there as you lean further into him. "I love you."

You feel your heart warm at his declaration, squeezing your arms around him and pressing a kiss against his clothed pec. Every bit of worry, every tiny ounce of anxiety melting away with something as simple as three words. And even though you knew that tomorrow would likely be the exact same...

...at least Suguru would be there to gently pick up the pieces.

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #geto suguru fanfiction #geto fanfiction #geto fluff #suguru geto fluff #geto suguru fluff

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lackadaisycats · 1 year

Photo

I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)

The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.

But for discussion's sake....

Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.

In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication.

For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.

I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.

With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.

Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.

These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.

Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.

They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.

Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.

The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.

Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)

They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.

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Culturally speaking...

New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.

The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)

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Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.

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Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.

It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.

To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.

There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.

(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)

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In summary--

Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.

I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!

#princess and the frog #disney #1920s #new orleans #jazz #fashion #voodoo #vodou #history #animation #art deco

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attractedtopeoples · 4 months

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HI POOKIR hope you are okay so I was thinking

Johnnie x f reader like UH overstim with edge on readers side ? And like reader maybe has a very pink style (coquette/hello kitty typa) and if you could do smth like after aftercare he does a stream and like reader kinda left some lipstick on his neck or hickeys IDK of you don’t wanna that’s okay! Have a good day

A/N: HIII LOVE, thank you I am doing better, and happy new year! I hope this is okay, especially sorry if i didn't mention the fashion as much- i'm not very good at incorporating those smaller details. despite that i absolutely loved this prompt, and i had sat there fangirling over the thought of this scenario for a hot minute but here we go, and as always constructive criticism is welcome.

Johnnie Guilbert

Tags/Warnings: mdni, minors do not interact, don't like don't read, smutty, explicit, f!reader, there is one creepy ass guy at the start, overstimulation, aftercare & slight fluff, marking kink from reader if you squint, tease reader/snarky reader, yh i think that's all, tell me if you think there should be more, NOT BETA-READ.

1.2k Words

The both of you had been at the grocery store, getting a few things for the apartment and stuff you needed for future videos. However, at one point Johnnie had left to grab some cookies he'd seen earlier, and some random guy had come up behind you, attempting to corner you into the shelf, one hand on your pressed on your lower back under the crop top you'd worn.

The sudden contact was obviously not appreciated, and you pushed him back as you stepped away quickly, avoiding his hand when he reached out again.

"Sorry Sweetheart, just admiring the view," the random guy said, as if it provided any valid explanation. You could feel his eyes tracing over you, and felt rather disgusted as his eyes stayed trained on your mini-skirt for a few seconds longer than you were comfortable with.

"Who's this?" a voice spoke behind you, and you had never been more thankful than when you turned around to find Johnnie standing there glaring at the creep. The guy rolled his eyes at Johnnie, but took a step back regardless, glancing at you once more before walking away, leaving a confused Johnnie with chocolate chip cookies in hand.

"Just a nobody, it's okay" you'd assured him, although it clearly didn't do a great job, his eyes still taking in every detail, trying to find any evidence of pain or discomfort.

"Are you sure?" he'd asked, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders as he looks back down the aisle with a slight frown.

"Been better, I just wanna go home." you'd admitted with a sigh as you leaned into his embrace.

That lead to where you are now, one hand clutching the pillow behind you and the other tangled in Johnnie's hair as his tongue pushes you towards another climax, your third tonight to be specific, and Johnnie did not seem like he wanted to stop. His hands had taken their place on your inner thighs, keeping your legs from closing around his legs as he overstimulates you.

Your back arched off the bed as you were pushed over the edge once more, and your hand was tugging Johnnie's hair, a futile attempt at pushing him away. However, to your surprise, he pulled away from you with a pleased grin on his face. Sadly, It didn't last very long, as one of his hands moved up your thigh as he began rubbing slow circles around your clit, applying a painful yet pleasurable pressure as you threw your head back once more.

His other hand trailed upwards- towards your hips, and he sat back on his knees, admiring you splayed out in front of him as he continued to toy with your overstimulated body, gently sliding two fingers inside you as you let out a broken moan, throat already sore from the previous rounds.

"Feeling better now darling?" He asks teasingly, curling his fingers inside you as your nails dig into the back of his neck, eyes squeezed shut as you try not to lose your mind from the feelings overwhelming you as his fingers thrust into you at a steady pace.

There were hickeys covering the both of you, but especially yourself, and you couldn't say you were all that upset. There was a trail of them from your jawline, down your collarbone, and scattered down the rest of your body. On your thighs the hickeys and love-bites were joined by slight bruises on your inner thighs form Johnnie's fingers.

On him it was mainly his neck and jawline, alongside a few scattered over his chest before he laid you down, opting to mark you up instead. Although as he leans down, placing his other arm by the side of your head, you had a nice few of them.

Looking into his eyes your shaky arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips as he reciprocated eagerly. The hands around his neck tightened as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten, and as he began to speed up you knew you wouldn't last much longer.

You pulled him in for another kiss as you felt yourself fall over the edge again, crashing your lips together in a desperate attempt of muffling the noises you knew would have woken one of your roommates. As the aftershocks wore off Johnnie slowly pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the bedsheets as he brings you closer, hugging you softly as he traces shapes into your skin.

After a while of you two lying there wrapped up in each other, he sighed and pulled back from you and off the bed to grab something from the bathroom. A few moments later he walked back into your room, a washcloth in his hand and you allowed yourself to relax back into the bed as he sat down next to you.

He rubbed soothing circles into your thighs as he cleaned you up, taking care to be extra gentle with you as he carefully wiped down your thighs with the warm towel. You watched him with a soft smile as your eyes drooped slightly. Eventually you felt your eyes close, and in your drowsy state you could feel Johnnie lie down next to you, an arm wrapped around your waist as you fall asleep together.

Blinking your eyes open you could hear the clicking of a keyboard somewhere in the room, and when you pat around for Johnnie you can only feel an empty space next to you in the bed. Rubbing your eyes as you adjust to the lighting you can finally see Johnnie at his desk on the other side of the room, both his camera and mic set up in front of him as he streams, most likely playing some form of game.

With a small sigh you sit up and hold back a groan at the pain in your lower back from last night. The movement caught Johnnie's attention, and you could see him mouth sorry out of the camera frame, although with the way he tilted his neck you could also see the collection of hickeys you'd left scattered on him- and by the way his camera was facing it was rather clear he was trying not to show them.

That fact didn't matter now however, as he'd just completely displayed each and every one to the viewers of his stream, and as you watched the realization flood his features you had to hold back a laugh. He slowly sat back into frame, and you watched his eyes flick over the comment section, and after a few seconds he just let out a resigned sigh.

With a raised eyebrow you kept watching as he pressed a few buttons, and then he started to speak again.

"Alright guys, I think that's a pretty good ending note, I'll see you next time," and with a final click of a button he slumped back into the chair and turned to face you tiredly. Meanwhile you were still trying not to laugh at him, one hand over your mouth as a pointless attempt at hiding your laughter.

"Shut up," he grumbled, but it didn't help much as you flopped back down onto the bed and continued to laugh, smiling when he came over and joined you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

#mdni #18+ mdni #anon <3 #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #fandom: jake and johnnie #i don’t know if there is a fandom name for these two #oh well #i was listening to sad conan gray songs whilst writing this #i dont know why #dividers by cafekitsune #divider by animatedglittergraphics n more

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