#fuck if i didnt have Temporary Love and Everything I Did To Get To You as our main themes

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.  

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.  

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.  

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.  

He knew that and got greedy.  

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.  

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.  

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.  

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.  

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.  

“Mhm.”  

“Will you change?”  

“No.”  

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.  

Maybe you never mattered in the first place. 

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying. 

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday. 

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.  

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs. 

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over. 

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.  

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat. 

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off. 

“I love you too, Shoko.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty. 

“Mm, I’ll manage.” 

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight. 

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair. 

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.” 

“‘N how’s that gonna help?” 

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.” 

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny. 

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.” 

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.” 

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.” 

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.” 

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.” 

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.  

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings. 

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene. 

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.  

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself. 

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.  

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching. 

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result? 

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real. 

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”  

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night. 

And you burst into tears.  

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you. 

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.  

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside. 

“Wh’re you?” you garble. 

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?” 

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.  

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light. 

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child. 

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.  

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm. 

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge. 

“L’ve me alone” 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-” 

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” 

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew. 

Then, you shoot up. 

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.  

 Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose. 

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.  

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand. 

“Finally up?”  

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried. 

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears. 

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you. 

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.  

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.  

“It was fine.”  

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance. 

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?” 

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?” 

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times. 

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication. 

“Had business” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment. 

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy. 

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation. 

“’M not lyin’.” 

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?  

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.” 

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.” 

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.” 

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-” 

“You could barely keep your eyes op-” 

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!” 

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone. 

“...I know.”  

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone. 

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze. 

“Are ya hungry?” 

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances. 

 Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.  

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.” 

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity. 

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride. 

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.” 

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest; 

“Pervert!” 

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.  

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”  

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top. 

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.  

Not my business. You're nauseous.  

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table. 

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it. 

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.  

“You lost? Take her order” he spat. 

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.” 

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors. 

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say. 

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."  

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"  

"As comfortable as I can be"  

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"  

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests. 

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."  

"It did pay well."  

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?" 

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."  

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household. 

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"  

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."  

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."  

"Don't get used to it." 

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.  

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof. 

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality. 

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”  

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.” 

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.  

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”  

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again” 

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “ 

“Give me your phone.” 

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists. 

 You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.  

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.  

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today. 

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself: 

dumbass ex 

tick, tock, tick, tock 

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip. 

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him. 

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.  

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji. 

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.  

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.” 

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...” 

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.” 

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?” 

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”. 

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?” 

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them. 

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.” 

You sigh, “It’s no one new.” 

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops. 

“Do not fucking say it.” 

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!” 

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.” 

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!” 

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath. 

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place. 

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.” 

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app. 

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn' 

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?' 

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?' 

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes' 

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”  

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.   

Oh god. 

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.  

“…Hello?” 

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“  

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction. 

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.” 

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you. 

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs. 

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no- 

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.” 

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.  

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.  

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.” 

“They’re for you.” 

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless. 

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you. 

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.” 

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.   

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan. 

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere. 

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”  

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right? 

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle. 

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups. 

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.” 

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?” 

“Us.”  

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words. 

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.  

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won��t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie. 

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.  

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.  

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.” 

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.” 

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.” 

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:(" 

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.” 

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.” 

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm. 

Loving. 

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks. 

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything. 

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” 

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”  

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip. 

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.  

“I don’t need healing. I need you.” 

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation. 

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.  

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.  

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?” 

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”  

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.  

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement. 

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip. 

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue. 

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.” 

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.  

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans. 

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?” 

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.  

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow. 

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-” 

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.” 

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.  

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.” 

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.  

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you��� Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.  

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.” 

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.” 

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence. 

“And what else?” 

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk. 

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you. 

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”  

“Mhm!”  

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.  

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.  

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”  

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth. 

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come. 

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air. 

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm. 

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.  

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight. 

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close” 

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.” 

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.  

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”  

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek. 

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear. 

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.  

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”  

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.  

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?   

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go. 

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”  

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.  

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs. 

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.  

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?” 

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?” 

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain. 

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other. 

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?” 

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.  

“So, you’re the decision maker now?” 

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.” 

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”  

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?” 

 “No. You need nobody but me.” 

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”   

“I love you, too.” 

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk

[void-chara]

@mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @irrealisms !! you had lots of prompt ideas for writing, but not for art, so i hope you're happy with eclipse federation misery and agony compilation, plus song lyrics

lyric credits: Temporary - Chase Petra / Stranger - The Mechanisms / Easier - The Crane Wives (appears four times) / Two Birds - Regina Spektor / Little Soldiers - The Crane Wives (appears twice) / Heretic Pride - The Mountain Goats

feel free to ask if you want me to adjust some text to make it more readable or something, i think it looks fine but i know different peoples eyes and devices are different, and if i had more time i would definitely have spent more time messing with the colors on everything

speaking. of time. im really sorry i took so long ._. i kind of suck at estimating how long projects will take and how much time i have. thanks for being so patient!!

oh, also, some lyrics and drawings have story reasons for being grouped together, and some went where they looked good. uh. ideally id make sure everything had reason for its location, but this is one area where i did correctly estimate my time, instead of getting stuck in the planning phase.

also in the process of typing all this ive already gone back twice to change stuff in the images and re-add them to the post lol

OH also!! the part where vitalasy jumps off to his death! is as far as i can tell NOT canon accurate!! all the footage shows him jumping off the prison, since thats where he respawns. i didnt think to check this until after id already drawn most of the stuff, and already had the prison drawn, and i didnt want to reorganize the drawing. im telling myself that we only see a few of the later deaths and so theoretically the first one could have been jumping off a grassy ledge somewhere but its still bothering me and i needed to mention it.

anyway yeah really hope you like it i tried some new stuff with this one im not sure how well it turned out and thanks again for being so patient!!

EDITING TO ADD SOME MORE WORDS!!! i love talking about my art! so first, all the text on signs and stuff i did go back and look at videos and vods to make sure was entirely accurate, and i wrote all the words entirely by myself. for the lyrics and other text(death message and DELIVERANCE), i used a text tool first to make sure the words would be neat and where i needed them, and then traced over that on a new layer and deleted the original text layer. my handwritting fucking sucks always no matter what, this was a very necessary step. also! this is officially the first thing i have drawn entirely on my phone, rather than on my ipad like i used to do! also i dont use a stylus of any type i just draw with my finger lol.

#eclipse federation #vitalasy #princezam #itzsubz #mcyt #edited to add EVEN MORE WORDS below the cut. i am the yapper #lifesteal smp #chara makes things #<-somehow both tags i originally forgot. #EDITING AGIN. third edit. first was extra text second was extra tags this is for a critical spelling error(used a - instead of a / as the #divider between two songs by accident)

[seretoningghost]

Tomura Shigaraki x Male Reader

Warnings : SMUT.

You can also find my new - and older works posted on my Wattpad! AnonymousN3rd!

I'm still super unsure if Tomura is exactly yay or nay just yet... Like yeah he's hot but... The shit he does..

I- I just love mafia bosses so fucking much- and his outfit at the end of season 5???? WOOOOOF!

(IVE ONLY WATCHED UP TO SEASON 6 SO NO SPOILERS)

Also I listened to Lovejoy - Portrait of a Blank Slate, its just soooo Tomura's vibe. 😎

Power Bottoming specifically mafia boss Tomura at the end of season 5 is literally my brainrot rn.

Y/Ns quirk is vibration where they can make their body or just select parts of themselve vibrate - lightly to super intense, like useful level intense.

His body naturally vibrates at a unnoticeable different level and it makes it so Shigaraki's quirk doesn't work on him.

THIRD PERSON POV

"What can I do for you hmm?!?"

"... Leave..."

"YESSIRR!"

A deafening silence settled in once re-destro left.

Shigaraki stood, propped against his crutch, unsure what to do all by himself.

His comrades were eating sushi, and this was the first time he felt good and was left alone.

Shigaraki turned silently, his crutch making clicks as he walked down the hallway.

Absently rubbing his right hand against his pants, all feeling hadn't returned exactly yet - but that was only temporary.

Walking down the silent hallway he could hear destros followers cheering get quieter.

Until they were practically unheard.

"Well... The capes nice."

Shigaraki paused, turning to the voice.

"Yeah? Well you did always say I was like a mafia boss..."

"... Fuck your voice is hot..." Y/N growled, smirking.

".. Would you like me to say more words?" Shigaraki grinned, teasing.

Y/N stepped forward, circling Tomura and drinking in the new outfit.

"Why did you get something so hot when you know your just gonna destroy it?" Y/N purred, his eyes clouding with lust as he practically roamed Tomura's body.

"Thats the best part, they get me all the suits I need."

"Oh?" Y/N's eyes glinted as he snapped his gaze to Shigaraki's, Y/Ns body vibrating breifly with unbridled lust.

Shigaraki had been fuck buds with Y/N enough to know what that meant.

"Well... How is everything going with LOV?" Y/N shifted.

"Its going good, I'm going to initiate your plan soon... But I think I need some compisation.... For it...~" Shigaraki grinned.

Y/N smirked, looking over Shigaraki again.

Y/N's hand vibrated breifly as he gestured to Tomura.

"You sure your doctor said your allowed to receive payment?" Y/N said with a shit eating grin, almost as if he was gonna snicker.

Shigaraki grinned wide.

"Well... If they didn't..... Who cares? They'll just have to patch me back up when were done~..."

...

The air was hot and unbearable.

Loud bed squeaking and creaking as Y/N slammed his hips down on Tomura, wet slaps could be heard - Tomura's raspy voice moaning beneath Y/N.

Shigaraki laying on the bed, groping tight on Y/Ns voluptuous hips.

Shigaraki's cape discarded and forgotten on the floor, lube haphazardly thrown to the floor without regard to possible future need.

"O-Oh- Oh god... Y/N! More!" Tomura moaned, a high pitched whine leaving his lips soon after.

Pushing his head further back into the matress with euphoria, his hair sprawling across the bed.

Y/N desperately wanted to tease Tomura about how Y/N actually ran LOV now, and how his mentor might feel - but a long winded tease didnt seem fitting.

But something about riding the ex leader of LOV, the same guy who handed it over for some sex - while all the members of the orginization didnt actually know that Y/N ran it... Just really made it even sexier.

Y/N moaned softly, back curving in pleasure as Y/N bounced his hips.

Y/N grabbed hold of Shigaraki's tie again, holding it like a leash as he grinned - moaning and whining as he rode him.

Shigaraki's breath hitched, before it was almost cut off - enough where he wouldn't pass out, but his body still begged for more air - it was-

"So... Sexy..." Shigaraki moaned, squeezing his nails into the supple flesh of Y/N's hips.

Shigaraki's cock twitched deep within Y/N.

Shigaraki stared at the view, Y/N was so damn sexy in the dim lighting of the room.

Shigaraki's eyes clouded with lust as he stared with longing, desire, and hunger.

Y/N reached his free hand down, taking a firm grip of his own cock and giving it a ample stroking.

"Ah..." Shigaraki moaned, eyes glinting with lust at the scene.

Shigaraki would be thrusting right now to deepen the pleasure - but he tried earlier, his body is still too achy.

"M-More~... Aah!" Shigaraki moaned.

Y/N using his quirk to vibrate his body.

Shigaraki gasped for air, back arching roughly.

"F-fuck-"

And with a final moan Shigaraki came, Y/N whimpering and riding a bit more.

Y/N mewled, cumming, slowing down his pace to allow the two of them to ease down from their high.

Both panting when Y/N finally stopped, his thighs shivering as he panted heavily, Tomura still deep inside his guts.

Y/N had his head hanging low as he slouched forward, his hands on Tomura's abdomen.

It was quiet as the room slowly lost its heat, Tomura could feel the heat of his orgasm slowly leaking out of Y/N and down what little of his cock wasn't inside Y/N.

"So... I hope your ready for more~.... Because I'm not done yet~..." Y/N grinned, looking up to Tomura.

Shigaraki stared quietly for a minute, then grinned as he ran one hand up from Y/Ns thigh to his hip.

"Your so dirty... You know that?" Shigaraki teased.

#x male reader #mha x male reader #bnha x male reader #bottom male reader #tomura shigaraki #oneshot #+18 content #+18 only #smut #male reader smut

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

i would like to see some of your evidence for demiro bryce please 🥰 i already believe you i just want the bryce content

OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS QUESTIONNNNNNNNN

okay mans didnt want a relationship for 3 books, and didnt seriously acknowledge that he had a thing for mc until like,, the chemical attack (if im being incredibly generous)??? like cmon youre joking if you think otherwise. he was happy to have a sexual relationship w mc, and NEVER wanted, asked, or thought about more (like not once did he ever have one of those goes to ask mc a question and gets interrupted or shied away moments. not once). even in jackies route, at the beginning of book 2 i believe, mc can ask what "they" are, but w bryce thats never even a thing (as far as i know and i have done like,, every choice for him). like that is 100% me taking it as mc not pushing his boundaries bc it is clear that he doesnt want more. i think him saying residency is temporary was just his way to find an excuse bc hes had to do it a thousand times before bc he doesnt know that hes demiro, so he just thinks somethings wrong w him for not wanting more than sex (as he had plenty of previous partners call him an ass or other things for not wanting more or being disinterested when he agreed to more)

on top of that, you never seem him willingly inviting mc into his personal life and drama and family etc etc. mc meeting keiki was COMPLETELY involuntary on bryces behalf. he never wanted mc to be involved in that, and actively took steps to avoid and hide it. basically, this is relevant bc he was never like oh mc come meet my family!! come do "normal" committed relationship activities w me!! NO he literally was just there for a good time

and on top of that, the way people think bryce was falling all over himself for every mc (only for them to leave him for ethan) is INSANE to me??? when did he ever give a hint he was in love w mc, especially in BOOK FUCKING 1 HELLO?????? like again, just there for a good time, not a long time. chemical attack was the first and only indicator that we had that he cared deeper about mc, and even that has a platonic explanation (mc was one of his closet friends ofc hes going to have a moment over it are you fucking joking me?? its doesnt have to be romantic and if i see ONE more thing about it i will scream. "your scalpel hand shakes" NO SHIT YOUR BEST FRIENDS GONNA DIE. THATS HOW IT WORKS)

his famous fucking line was that he didnt want to be tied down. bc in every past relationship he has felt like that. bc he wasnt actually in love w them/had romantic feelings for them/felt ANY emotional connection w them. yk,, bc hes FUCKING DEMIRO AND DIDNT KNOW IT. like ofc he felt tied down, he rushed into every relationship and just did what his partners wanted bc thats what "normal" people do even though it felt so fucking wrong to him. it just felt like an obligation bc he didnt actually want that. and then hes finally w mc talking about how he feels free w them like yeah no shit its bc they didnt force you into anything more than what you wanted and fucking respected your boundaries and actually let you get to know them enough to fall for them. but no, its cool, everyone should just keep making him and mc get married by book 2 and have 5 kids by book 3. totally accurate and normal and not completely erasing his character at all

tldr: mj is right about everything all the time and bryce is very much so demiro

#ty i needed this rant so bad #i literally feel like im losing my goddamn mind every day in this fandom #the denial is so fucking real #i just #hate it here #maybe #a little #a lot #idk #bryce lahela #asks answers

[peachjuiceretriever]

exhales thru my nose. i really needed to put these feelings SOMEWHERE and i apolgoize. please ignore i am venting this is a vent post i repeat this is a personal vent post. you are not obligated to read.

SIGHS... i dunno. it fuckin. it wasnt even just he was nice and sweet i felt so comfortable sharing my kinks with him and he was literally open to anything and that was so nice... sex is very important to me in a relationship so having someone who was just as adventurous as me... and he thought everything i did was cute... called me cute all the time... even when he came to visit and saw me completely naked in real life... he saw every inch of my body and he didnt just continue to love me it felt like he loved me even more... it felt like once he saw me that was when he knew i was the one... at least... thats what it felt like to me... thats how i felt... he was always so interested in everything i had to say, so excited for every opportunity i had to grow.. ughhh i fucking!!! bangs my head on a wall. why did you do this to me... i remember expressing to you how scared i was that you'd choose someone else, that someone else would catch your eye and you'd look back at me and realize im not worth it- the time, the effort, the energy it takes to love me... and you told me "why would i ever do that? they're not you" and i fucking believed you!!!!!!! and we... we fucking planned !! on moving in together!!! i was genuinely ok with moving to a different state, starting a new life just for you because you had stuff already established down there!!! and now i....

i hate the way i want to be loved. how fucking selfish of me to want someone to hold my hand to go through journeys with me... i hate being a traumatized child in an adult body. the way my parents set me up for failure... i hate how i went through therapy and thought i had all of this under control now... the fact that my brain can go "you need to love yourself, nobody can do it for you." but it doesn't take away the pain. "this too shall pass" but it doesn't soothe the ache in your throat. if you dont break the cycle it will continue to repeat itself this feeling is only temporary it is what it is and you can't change it sometimes things are bad before they get good and i know i know i know i know but it hurts now goddamn it it hurts now and it'll hurt tomorrow and the next day and every single fucking time i think about the airport, or his state is mentioned on tv, or i drive by a fucking starbucks!!!!!!!!!

#vent #whooooaa this was a long one #REST ASSURED NOBODY HERE WILL CARE ITS OK U DONT HAVE TO LOOK #im literally just venting about an ex so YA #you guys can ignore i'll be normal again soon just give me time

[evil-wakes-in-vengeance]

Don't reply to this. I told you I'm rebuilding my life. I've got every confidence in myself, but thank you nonetheless. The thing that stings about it all is that you have nothing to say after months of not talking. Not that you have to say anything, that's your prerogative, I'm just genuinely surprised by it. It's good to know I was just a temporary filler for your loneliness at the time. Don't repeat the same mistake. I definitely won't be.

right this is the last time I am fucking replying to you and I'm going to break it down as simple as possible, I let you , ash , into my life, when I wasn't even ready but i decided to give it all a chance again after 4 years of toxicity with will. it started horrible and I should have seen the flags , one example would be the day you said you loved me and you decided to make me feel bad for not returning the notion, which guilt tripped the shit out of me, the next thing I knew you where slowly moving your stuff in doing in slowly almost as though I wouldnt notice, and I very clearly wasnt ready for that step I allowed it on the false pretention you would get a job , which you never did, to which I then got a second job , because I could not afford you myself and luna off of part time cleaning. Which i required you to watch my child for , which was met with me being some sort of "hoe" at work because I wanted to fuck everyoe or everyone me , and that was the same everywhere i went I couldnt even go in a shop without you sulking about a guy i had apperntly looked at, it was absurd , i couldn't do the one thing I enjoyed which was my motorbike meets because you made it fucking hell in regaurds to of course men, I was made to feel unloyal trapped and quiet frankly like i didnt exist because all you ever spoke about was yourself, i basically became your therapist even though you where slowly chocking the shit out of me, and my daughter of which you found hilariouse to bully and put down, calling her names as a joke the same as you did me and even calling her drawings bad just being outright horrible for your own entertainment , you wanted sex on demaned regaurdless off how i felt and if i said no i would yet again be met with a guilt trip to where i was left feeling misreable but as long you got what you wanted it didn't matter, you ironically would sit in my bed scrolling threw nudes off woman and even commenting on photos thinking i wasnt aware and you even messaged some girl attempting to meet , but I was the one being accused off god knows what even though id never looked anywhere else or anything of the sort. you just toke from me ash, you free loaded off my food my internet my tobocco everything, sat on your xbox most nights until fuck knows when and slept all day and would expect a pat on the back when you did something nice, yeh we went for some cycle rides we had some nice memories together but all of the nice shit with sobotaged by all of the above, the last straw was when I spoke to that black guy at central bar and I was accused of wanting BBD ect to the point the guy walked us back as he was concerned about me with your behaviour to which ended up with me finally fighting back and loosing my shit with you which resulted in you loobing my furniture across the room. so i kicked you out off my house and called the police, and from months on from there you sent me thousand and thousands of messages , you even sent me pictures of girls naked telling how much better they where than me, as if you hadnt already done a number on my confidence with comments i cant even put on the internet because theyre so disguisting like that one becky wanted to punch you in the face for (my god i wish she had!) , then at some point you broke into my fucking house , it toke the police months to catch your arse and theyre still processing all the evidence now and it still has to go to court, yet here the fuck you are with a restraining order against you messaging me , you currently have two fake accounts to stalk my instagram and fuck knows what else you stalk it seems my tumblr also of course! your obsessed , with what i dont even know because to be quiet fucking brutally honest with you i totally fucking hate you. you made me feel more alone than actually being alone has ever ever made me feel, and thanks to you im now absoloutly fucking terrified to let anyone near not just me but my child ! because i never want some cunt to treat her like you did ! you..are..vile.

[fucklessmuck]

Tw: rant involving suicide sa ed drugs and generally bad things. Just a rant. Please don't report I just don't know what else to do.

Pov: you finally did somthing healthy for yourself and everyone who should be proud of you just wants you to get over the pain of cutting out a toxic relationship faster so they can get back to taking advantage of you. Fuck. I can't get a fucking break. I can't fucking rest. I can't fucking heal and it bullshit. Just bc I'm emotionally stronger than like...most people doesn't mean I can take the responsibility of regulating YOUR EMOTIONS. YOUR LIFE CHOICES. bitch I can't even eat 3 meals a day why the fuck are you relying on ME to tell you how be a grown up? Why are you relying on me to fucking do the heavy lifting here?

I'm having a fucking break down man. I got no friends no love no job no money no hope and yall just fucking have the audacity to tell me to just show up? Bitch I looked you in the eyes w tears streaming down my face saying I'm so tired. I just want to die. And you FUCKING LEFT ME FOR DEAD

YOU ALL LEFT ME FOR DEAD. AND IM SO FUCKING PISSED

I lost everything. EVERYTHING. OVER AND OVER. I have struggled si hard and pulled myself out of the depths of hell just to get to this point where I could share how I felt w you. And you spit in my face.

You're mad now. At me? For putting a boudry up and telling you what I need? Your mad at me for taking time for myself and deal w the loss of a fucking 2 year long relationship?

I don't just end shit bc of petty things. I need you to be as strong as me and frankly I get it now.

Weak insecure pathetic beings leech onto me bc of how strong I am. Fuck it makes me wish I had just fucking offed myself just so I could watch yall scramble like " fuck I didn't think they'd actually fucking do it"

REALLY? YOU DIDNT THINK ID DO IT AFTER HOLDING MY BF IN MY ARMS AS HE DIED BY SUICIDE? AND THE WHOLE TOWN BLAMED ME FOR HIS DEATH AND BLACKENED MY NAME? HOW YOU, MY MOTHER, WATCHED AS NOT 1 NOT 2 NOT 3 BUT 5 FIVE BOYS REPEATEDLY ABUSED AND ASSULTED ME IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. AND ON THE 6TH ONE WHEN IT CAME DOWN TO IT YOU PICKED HOM OVER ME BC HE PAHED RENT?

HOW I ENEDED UP HOMELESS IN 2020 DURING A FUCKING PANDEMIC BC OF THAT? HOW I PICKED UP A RANDOM STRANGER WHO NEEDED MY HELP DESPITE ME HAVING NOTHING I JUST WANTED TO HELP US GET AN APARTMENT. HOW MY CAR BROKE DOWN IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER AND I HAD TO TAKE MOLLY TO KEEP FROM FREEZING TO DEATH BC THE INSIDE OF THE CAR WAS ICING OVER. THEN AFTER I BOUGHT US AN APARTMENT AND FURNITURE AND EVERYTHING I GET INJURED AT WORK AND LOSE FEELING IN MY RIGHT LEG. MY GREAT GRANDMOTHER DIES, AND I GET FUCKING CANCER IN THE SAME WEEK AND MY ROOMATE DECIDES THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO KICK ME OUT.

So I'm homeless AGAIN. AND NOW THE ONLY PLACE FOR ME TO GO IS AN EX FRIEND WHO IS AN ALCOHOLIC AND MY FRIEND I KNEW FROM HIGHSCHOOL WHO WANTED TO MOVE OUT. I TOOK HIS SPOT SO THEY COULD PAY RENT. THE HOUSE WAS A MESS. AND NEEDED TO BE CLEANED AFTER 3 YEARS NO CLEANING. I MEET MORE FRIENDS TO HELP ME W RENT AND NOT KILLING MYSELF. AND ONE OF THE 3 PEOPLE THAT END UP LIVING W ME ASKED IF THEY COULD. SO THAT PISSED OFF THE ALCOHOLIC AND SHE DECIDED IN HER OWN QUIRKY BPD ASS WAY SHED EVICT US BY ABUSING MY FUCKING CAT WHOVE I HAD SINCE LIKE 6TH GRADE THAT WAS ALREADY TRUAMATIZED BY LIVING IN MOTELS AND CARS. SO WE ALL LEAVE AND WHO FOUND THE TEMPORARY HOUSE TO LIVE IN? ME. WHO FOUND THE DREAM HOUSE THAT WE WOULD STAY IN? ME. SO WHEN I GO HEY THIS LAST 3 YEARS KINDA BROKE ME CAN I PLEASE GET LIKE A BACK RUB AND SOME CUDDLES AND SOME EMOTIONAL AVAILABILITY WHAT DO I GET?

Be here by 1 to scrub my house.

Fuck all of you.

I wish I had just died in my car that winter.

Then the blood really would be on your fuckinf hands you fucking selfish incompetent bitch

[frecklystars]

YOU SAY I’M YOUR HERO BUT YOU ARE THE ONE THAT SAAAAVED MEEEEEEE 😭😭🌟🌸✈️✨❤️🖤💙💫💖💕💖💕💖💕

#THANK YOU BEN PLATT #THT FUCKIGN ACOUSTIC VERSION MAKING ME CRY EVEN THO IVE LOOPED IT 500 TIMES #IJUST WANNA BE HELD BY A BIG SCARY ROBOT IS THAT TO O MUCH TO ASK #love notes #💕 Two falling stars ✨ #💕 Everything I did to get to you 🌟🌸 #vent art #lil doodles #starscream #this is a starkeri song this is THE starkeri song!!! #fuck if i didnt have Temporary Love and Everything I Did To Get To You as our main themes #i would have made Imagine the ultimate main theme for BOTH universes #because god it fits them in every single way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #ben says his second album is coming out this summer!!! SO ITS GOTTA BE SO SOON #AND HE SAYS HIS LAST ALBUM WAS ABOUT HEALING #AND THIS ALBUM IS ABOUT BEING ABSOLUTELY UTTERLY IN LOVE #THIS ALBUM IS GOING TO BE A STARKERI GOLDMINE #13 TRACKS!!!! 13 STARKERI SONGS 🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭 #this song got me thru the last month... pls mr benjamin plattypus i need some more food

[yinses]

substitute

| you told yourself that you would do anything for satoru |

gojo satoru x reader

rating: 18+

a/n: i have an obsession i know. i’m working on it

it was to a soft tickling at the inside of your thighs that welcomed you into the next day. a soft sigh broke through your yawn as you shifted and twisted against the desires tugging at your veins. 

somewhere in your mind, you registered that it was much too early. 

but of course your body disagreed tenfold. 

“ngh…” an equally tired chuckle vibrates against you and you jumped at the touch of a thumb brushing against your outer lips. 

“the was a cute sound,” the voice purred. your hips lifted once more in reaction before they were assisted into submission by the firm weight of a forearm along your pelvis. 

the sounds of your slick sliding against his tongue were as equally loud as it was lewd. there was no art to the madness, just a series of flicks and heavy suction. 

your fingers clenched at the sheets, wrinkling the integrity as your chest heaved with every moan. in terms of wake up calls, the impending shrill of your alarm easily took last place. 

“you are always such a sight to wake up to. thought i’d return the favor.” 

and return it he did. 

the insertion of a finger freed up the opportunity for his voice to waft around the room again. the rhythm was as languid as his lazy drawl as he bent a joint and raked the nail against your inner walls. 

“i also might need a favor.”

the pinch of your brow came before the comprehension of his words. gojo was always a talker- a stronger contender as a firm charmer that managed to weave his way through society. as his position as ‘the chosen one’, his power spoke volumes. 

with you- he leaned on alternative methods. 

“fuck-toru… you bastard.”

you choked over the inclusion of a second finger, barely swallowing your words as you struggled to rock into them. 

“that’s not very nice of you. to think i woke up so early to treat you this morning.

your boyfriend took the opportunity to curl both fingers this time, smirking when you all but managed to successful buck him off as you keened under his ministrations. 

“it’s nothing big.” turquoise eyes, tinged with lust, met yours as he rose his head. the blanket fell off his shoulders, revealing more pale skin. “i just need a bit of a substitute today.” 

substitute? as in substitute teacher? he had to be joking. 

unlike gojo, after graduation you had more than willingly left behind the stuffy atmosphere of education. as a sorcerer, you never did stop learning. the always evolving curses not letting you hang too far off your game. 

but to return to the classroom to put those young students through everything you hated in your youth? 

no orgasm was worth that.

you disguised your grimace under the pretense of displeasure as he withdrew his hand all together. he tsked at your impatience, using the same hand as a crude form of lube as he fisted his growing cock. 

“it will be easy. these classes are even smaller than ours were.”

 it was difficult to voice a complaint when he was doing just the opposite and sliding into you. your back arched as he filled you to the hilt with little difficulty. 

he experimented with a shallow thrust, a grin pulling at his lips when you responded positively. the pace he set was slower than either of you were use to on a regular basis, but it fit the mood of morning sex. 

his forehead touched yours as he drew back for another long thrust. “shit-squeezing me so early. what a good girl.”

you whimpered when his hips met yours with more force than the last. “think of how excited they’ll be to have a new face. such a sexy one at that.” 

your body slid along the mattress each time he buried himself within you. you didn’t want to admit that he was getting to you. not even his all seeing gaze needed to retell the obvious. his plan was flawless and in short you were too much of a simp for the man.

so you just accepted the early morning distraction, taking direct pleasure in the way it unraveled the tangle of sleep.

you clenched your inner muscles helpfully and your boyfriend groaned in appreciation as he chased both of your releases with new vigor. the twitching and shakiness began with you as the pace picked up. your climax tumbled out of you with a sharp gasp as your boyfriend filled the space with a grunt. 

the two of you took a minute to regain your before he eventually pulled out and you pointedly ignored the stickiness as you relaxed your legs to give him the room to pull away. he didnt stray too far, white locks tickling your nose as he leaned in close again.

“i have more in store for you tonight as a thank you.”

with a huff, you pressed your palm against his cheek before his lips could chase yours. 

“fine, fine. i’ll babysit your class. you better be on some super important mission.”

gojo made a pleased sound, somewhere stuck between a hum and a warm rumble as he nuzzled the side of your neck and pressed his lips there instead. 

“super important. thanks babe.”

                                          you don’t know why you agreed to this. 

leaning back against the desk, you returned the silent gesture as the three first-years scrutinized your presence. aside from megumi, the other two were new faces for you. but your boyfriend’s knack for storytelling painted the picture in the absence of words. 

nobara was obvious. the sole girl of the unit. 

poor girl. 

she seemed to share your sentiment of wanting to be anywhere else but here. 

“so you’re dating sensei?”

you brought your arms closer to your chest as your shoulders rose with the action. 

was that … judgement?

“i’m so sorry.”

it was the sincerity that scared you the most. 

“oh wow, wow, wow. sensei’s really got it all. “

sukuna’s vessel was impossible to miss as any seasoned sorcerer. despite the boy’s positive demeanor, he reeked of the malevolent residue. yet in a way he made it work, there was nothing really about him that didn’t come off as approachable. 

he had something to gain gojo’s infatuation. there was no doubt in your mind that he would use this boy to help him dismantle the systematic hierarchy of the sitting elders. 

you just had to wonder. 

was the kid his main tool or the curse?

“i can’t believe you actually agreed to this.”

ah, megumi. 

the boy liked to express his love for distance, but the years swallowed up so much of it as you watched him grow. your boyfriend was a lot of things but you couldn’t deny the influence he had on the young sorcerer. 

the boy who seemed to disdain the attention knew it too. 

now that everyone had their turn to speak, you supposed it was your turn. 

“he was very convincing,” you offered lowly before picking up the volume. “let’s not pretend you’re actually going to learn anything from me. im just a sit in until satoru gets back from his mission.”

megumi’s scoff shouldn’t have come as a surprise. gojo’s name was rarely spoken without it’s accompaniment. 

“what makes you think he’s not off sightseeing?”

because killing gojo was impossible but you would happily tire yourself exploring your options. 

your smile was tight as you gestured to the door,” lets kick the morning off with some practice matches. the second years are always eager.”

settled comfortably against the bleachers observing as your temporary students got their asses handed to them, you came to the conclusion that being a teacher couldn’t be too bad. perhaps in the future you might be more willing to offer your services with out your boyfriend’s extra persuasion.

speaking of gojo, you wondered how his mission was going. you never actually questioned his agenda. 

you didn’t expect to wait long as the dial tone started up. outside of battle and life or death situations, gojo rarely ignored your calls. he knew in the thick of it you could protect yourself, but he preferred to keep himself available to your needs. 

the sounds of mixed commotion greeted you before his voice did. 

“toru … it sounds busy. where are you?”

gojo’s answering laugh should have been the first warning. to some it may have come off as eased but you could hear the way he forced it in to deflect. 

“sweetheart, how are classes going? i hope they’re not giving you too much trouble.”

trouble seemed to be the opposite of what he was dealing with. there were a lot of people holding their own conversations in the background, all of them too casual to be in danger. in fact, there were too many in general to place him on a battlefield. 

what exactly were you substituting for?

“order #217 for… gogo-san?”

the loud cluck of your tongue against the roof of your mouth was suddenly powerful enough to drown out the clamor. 

gojo satoru prided himself on standing resilient to all threats. it was how he maintained his position as the strongest. he was sought out for his efficiency and ability to overcome all adversaries. 

even against the most fearsome.

“honey, do i ever have a treat for you! today was a single-day special at my favorite bakery. you should have seen the lines. it's a good thing i got here so early!”

there were a lot of things you would do for satoru gojo.

and even more that you would do to him when you got home.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo sins

[bratz-kitten]

Hey girl, i need some advice and i hope you can help me. I don’t know if you’ve been through this but i guess so bc i saw some asks ago where you were talking about this and yeah

How do i deal with someone i love (ex partner) moving on so quickly and being with another girl?

And like, when that happened to you did you compare yourself to that girl? Because that’s also a huge issue of mine, im always comparing myself to her and stalking them like ugh HELP

OKAY FUCKING PREPARE YOURSELF

the first thing you’re gonna do is, hear me out: you’re not gonna get involved with ANYONE. not for a good while, not until you’re ready. trust me when i say that the one who moves on the fastest after the breakup is the one that’ll suffer the most. even though it might not seem like it now, even though he might be experiencing happiness right now, in some months reality’s gonna hit and it’s gonna hit him hard. why? because he didn’t process the breakup. he didnt allow himself the time to get over you and just moved on so he wouldn’t have to deal with the bad feelings. literally a few months after what happened to me, his best friend texted me saying how he tried covering up a huge hole with a quick bandaid and now he was realizing how it had only been a temporary solution to a permanent problem.

the second reason why you’re not gonna get involved with anyone else is because that’s what he’s expecting you to do. he immediately moved on to someone else in part to hurt you — and he WANTS you to move on with someone else so that he can feel the satisfaction of you trying to replace him. it’ll boost his ego and it’ll make it easier for him to warp his perception of you into someone who he doesn’t respect.

if there’s one thing i know is that men always come back, no matter how toxic or healthy what you had was. they come back when they sense you getting over them, they come back when they see how amazing you’re doing, they come back when they realize how much they messed up.

so what you’re gonna do is focus on yourself. im not just talking about a physical glow up, im talking mental. when i went through that i couldnt stop comparing myself to her, i used to have an amazing confidence but i let myself shatter it, constantly feeling like i wasn’t enough, like i wasn’t loveable, like i was replaceable just because he replaced me. you know what helped? working on my individuality. right now im focusing so much on developing my style, wearing things out of my comfort zone, things that make me happy, things that make me feel so sexy and confident. unique things. working on my makeup skills too and how to express myself with makeup. skincare and haircare too, there’s something so healing about taking care of yourself and being gentle and dedicating all the love and care you deserve and start seeing results. go watch hyram on youtube if you want to learn about skincare! it’s so much fun. about the mental part: astrology has helped me so much. you gotta be infatuated with yourself, with learning more about you and your past and your traumas and unhealed shit that you need to acknowledge and work on. also manifestation and saying daily mantras to myself about how pretty and smart and interesting i feel, and listening to music that makes me feel sexy. i find exercise boring bc i need to be constantly stimulated so what i started doing was dancing to just dance videos on youtube and now i cant stop LOL ITS SO FUN, gets my blood pumping makes me feel sexy when im dancing to rihanna songs AHDJDJDJ and makes me feel more energized. and for the love of god: PLEASE get a hobbie. you don’t need to do a lot right now, just ONE. hobbies give you so much self-worth and make you feel so capable and like you’re art creating art - i dont want to be cheesy but it is true that interesting people have interests, this is the time for you to get into something you’ve always wanted to do or that you used to love doing as a child but stopped because life got in the way.

i also want you to allow yourself to feel. don’t repress - whenever you want to cry, cry. whenever you miss him, allow yourself to. whenever you remember all the amazing things he did, or all the terrible things he did, or that YOU did, allow yourself to feel all that. time heals nothing, it’s you who’s gotta put in the work to heal yourself.

also, this is the time to focus on your friendships. join an online community or talk with your current friends, talk with them through what happened, be with people who can make you laugh just as hard as he did. communicate all that you feel to them, about your past, about how much you love them, doesn’t matter.

a thing that i did that helped so much was that i’d imagine him coming back and begging me to get back together with him, and i’d imagine being at a point that i felt so good by myself, that i was so confident and so focused on my shit that i’d tell him no. and eventually i became that girl, who was over him and deserved so much more than some childish kid who thinks i’m replaceable, and that’s exactly when he came back. so, please remember that just because you feel like he replaced you, it doesnt mean he did. you are irreplaceable, unfuckwitable, unlinkable, way too good for ANYONE.

and PLEASE STOP WITH THE STALKING LMFAO THAT’S THE WORST PART OF ALL, IT’S SO HARD TO STOP STALKING AND TO NOT ANALYZE EVERY LITTLE THING THAT HE LIKES AND TWEETS AND EVERYTHING THAT SHE POSTS BUT YOU’RE GONNA STOP THAT RIGHT NOW. you dont need to block them, there’s an option on twitter that lets you silence them so you’ll never see them on your tl, if it’s on other social medias where you can’t silence, unfollow and block. know that it doesn’t matter who’s prettier or smarter or hotter, SHE’S NOT YOUR COMPETITION. know that as much as you’re comparing yourself to her, she’s comparing herself to you ten times worse. sending your pics to her friends asking them if they think you’re pretty and shit. she’s not your enemy and it’s not her fault he’s an asshole. so you’ll just let them completely out of your life. also, out of sight out of mind. avoid seeing him. if you have work together or school together or ride the bus together or whatever, avoid all the places where you know he’ll be. make an effort to never be around the same places as him.

i wish you good luck my love, know that you’re the shit, literally the hottest and smartest bitch alive and that’s something he’ll never be able to take away from you. this is what helped me through the worst times, so take it with a grain of salt pls im not an expert. I LOVE YOU

#answered

[jpegjade]

Mr. Loverman (Pt. 3)

Alright frens and ferns. we’re gonna go through this shorter chapter. Still like 3 google docs pages but my fics are normally like 4-6 pages. (if you can’t tell, i’m a one-shot writer AND HAVENT WRITTEN A STORY FIC SINCE I WAS LIKE 14. shoutout to the wattpad days.) so this one is shorter bc i need to work but i wanted to put this out. part 4 will be much longer. idk how long im gonna end up making this fic in the end. ((yall gotta keep me encouraged to focus on this thing bc my adhd will in fact leave you all hanging on a cliff hanger and we wont look back lmao)))

i apologize for the shortness. i also apologize for adding the person i hate with a BURNING passion. yall just dont know. anyway, i’m so sorry. and for those who haven’t gotten to 11/12, there are no spoilers. this is like independent of that storyline and kinda after but i’ll explain a little in the next chapter. but i wanted to keep this true to the cm universe. also i didn’t want to create a wholeass character with a tragic backstory to explain why they’re a psychopath when in reality they just suck. that takes too damn long

warnings: none that i can think of. ((i dont even think i swore once. im so fucking proud. oops)) and no, i didnt proof read. so roll with any mistakes.

mr. loverman 1: Bloop

mr. loverman 2: bloop bloop 

____________________ 

“Y/n, have you seen anything or anyone suspicious lately? Anyone you recognized from one place appearing in other spaces?” Prentiss said. 

Everyone was staring at you. You felt the pressure on you to say the right thing but you didn’t know. You didn’t know what to say so you tried honesty. 

“No, not that I’ve noticed. Sorry if that makes things harder.” You sighed. 

You felt like you were letting everyone down because you didn’t notice anyone. Everything in your life was mundane and nothing stood out. You were super aware of your surroundings but you still felt like it wasn’t enough. You spent more time than ever in your apartment, which was hell but necessary with everything going on.

“Here’s the problem.” Emily started. “We have received intel that you’re on a bounty hunter’s hit list. Not only that but they have been watching you for some time now.” 

You were speechless. Who would pay to have you killed? Who did you piss off enough to pay money to have you killed? And what did this bounty hunter look like? This made you incredibly nervous and despite being away for two years, your body just reacted. 

Spencer told himself not to freak out. This didn’t mean anything. You were holding his hand tightly. It was what you used to do every time you got scared. Spencer squeezed your hand a little bit to let you know he was there and then he felt you squeeze back. You didn’t let go of his hand through the rest of the conversation but Spencer was barely paying attention. Garcia eventually ushered the two of you out of the room and back to your temporary bedroom. 

The silence between you and Spencer was incredibly loud. You let go of his hand as soon as you got to the breakroom, apologizing. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You said. You figured that he would know what you were talking about. You sat in your corner of the mattress where you previously sat and Spencer sat in the space he occupied before the meeting. 

“No, you were scared. It’s okay.” He said. 

Silence that seemed to last forever happened. You were thinking about him and he was thinking about you. You were both so nervous about what came next but you didn’t know what to say. It took forever to come up with something but Spencer came up with something. 

“I wasn’t lying.” Spencer looked down at his shoes. 

“About?” You said, confused. You leaned your head against the wall. You were getting so tired. 

“Missing you. You have been all that I’ve thought about through these past two years.” He said, finally looking up at you. 

“Spence…” You said, yawning. You closed your eyes for a moment. 

“I haven’t connected to anyone else as naturally as I connected with you.” He said. 

“Well, I guess I can’t say anything different since I haven’t been able to move on.” You said, sleepily. It had been a long day and you were beyond exhausted. When you’re that tired, anything you say is bound to be unfiltered. 

“You were the only one who cared for me, all of me, and didn’t mind everything that came with me. No one gets that. No one cares about me like you do, even now. I couldn’t bear to take the ring off because it would mean losing a piece of you. And I couldn’t do that. I may have broken off the relationship but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. To this day, I…” You barely said before you fell asleep. 

Spencer thought about waking you but you looked so peaceful. He hated when he was left on a cliffhanger, especially like this, but you needed rest. So Spencer gently helped you lay down and covered you with your blanket. He was about to walk outside the door to guard and take a breather but you grabbed his arm and mumbled a very small, “Stay.” 

And that’s what he did. He stayed, holding you while you slept peacefully. He was so comfortable that he eventually nodded off. That was the first time in two years that he didn’t have a nightmare that scared him awake. 

When he woke up, you were nowhere to be found. Frantically searching, he ran all over the floor before noticing it was sunrise. You loved watching the sun rise in the mornings with a cup of coffee and a nice playlist going. 

“Hey, Spence.” You said, looking out the window. You looked rested, not tired like yesterday. 

“Y/n, you scared me. I thought something happened.” He said, looking at you. How did you make a sundress look so pretty? 

“Sorry. I thought about waking you but you were smiling in your sleep, the small, happy smile you do, and I wanted you to sleep. Besides, I had Cat to keep me company.” 

Spencer’s blood ran cold. That wasn’t possible. He was jumping to conclusions and you were sure it was just an intern or someone who…

“Hey Spencie. I’m having a grand time with y/n here. She’s a ball of sunshine.” Cat said, a fake smile fading into a straight face. 

Spencer immediately grabbed for his gun but didn’t find it anywhere on his hip. 

“Looking for this?” Cat took the gun out of her bag and pointed it directly at Spencer. 

Your head could barely comprehend what was happening. You were instructed to put your hands up and walk into the conference room, sitting across from each other. 

“And no touching. That’s no fun.” Cat pointed the gun at Spencer. You noticed that she was fixated on Spencer. You guessed that they somehow knew each other.

You were already in tears. What was happening? Could you make it out of this one alive? 

_____________________

Tag list: 

@dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

@andiebeaword

@justanothetfangirl

@fanfictionreader05 

@addie5264

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid imagine #cm #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[erizee]

ok so since tma is over i can finally say everything abt all seasons so here are my opinions abt the tma seasons ig

basically i love angst

its also 3am so do with that what you want

best statememts: season 1

s1 has the scariest statements, especially since the first time u listen to it u dont have any info on wtf is going on yet. once the Lore comes in everything starts to make sense and i love that but it Does make it less scary for me

and i mean. the anatomy class?? jane prentiss' statememt?? lost johns' cave??? those are some A+ statements

could also be in part bc in later seasons i paid attention to the meta story wayyy more (since theres just more of it) and the statements just kind of became a background thing for me later on

some statements in s5 are also REALLY good though, especially the spiral doctor david, the plague village, the meat garden and the one with gertrude and gerry

best meta story: season 3

this is sooo hard

i love all of their meta stories too much to decide completely

but i had to choose 😔

i just love how in s3 you start to piece things together and jon is getting superpowers and hhhh its just so fucking good

theres just. some real connections between the statements and jon meets avatars and elias' bullshit gets a Little bit revealed and then u get gerry's info and you THINK you have it all together but you really DONT

theres more i could say but it all ties into the other categories so ill put it there instead

best character interaction: season 3/5

this is a full tie i canNot choose that

both of them have rly nice interactions with The Team but ALSO v nice interactions with avatars, which the rest of the seasons dont have that much

for the Team, they never Really do full teamwork ever but i think in s3 they got the closest to it, especially after the elias confrontation with everyone. especially the parts with tim and jon but also everything about melanie's & daisy's interactions with jon is just. chefs kiss.

and in s5 obviously jon & martin interact with everyone on The Team thats still alive (which it Should since its the last season tbh) and its just so nice that after s4 they were all talking and being rational abt things. love that.

and with the avatars, s3 is i think the first to introduce them as more than Those Weird Evil/Monster people since jon is becoming literally one of them. and theres sooo many cool interactions, i mean jude, mike crew, nikola, michael, daisy again, etc etc its just so fucking cool

and again same goes for s5, they interact with avatars and talk to them like theyre extremely fucked up people but still people and its soo cool. in the earlier parts of the season its also cool to see jon literally distance himself from the avatars again by killing them (only to fail by becoming to pupil oof).

i think with that i might rank s3 a bit higher than s5 actually, just because i loooove the angst of jon talking to these people he thought were monsters before thinking hes becoming like them. im SO here for the angst lmao

best jonmartin: season four

yess s5 had the most Actual canon jonmartin and it has them working through problems together and being in love but like. im always a slut for mutual pining and angst

i literally stop reading fanfics once the characters get together sometimes lmao

i also love the jonmartin in s5 but u know. Pining.

there was also some in s3 & before but yea jon had other things to do so it was less Big

best angst: season fourrrrrr

i knowwwww martin Literally kills jon in s5 and yes it did make me cry. BUT.

one of my ABSOLUTE favourite tropes in any media whatsoever is betrayal. any kind of it (except cheating that just sucks). i love it when characters go evil. i love it when they do sth fucked up they shouldnt have. and i ESPECIALLY love the way other characters react to it

i mean theres a reason why hannibal is one of my favourite shows (& why 6x20 is my favourite spn episode but shh)

and s4 has soooo much of that.

i dont rly get the story of s4 tbh its mostly just dealing w the end of s3 for me and thats not doing much for me tbh idk

and i feel so bad for jon because he was literally manipulated into everything but FUCK all those scenes where he has to confront What hes become, and especially the episode with the statement from the woman he met irl and took a statement from.

it hurts but its SO good

im very very glad all that was resolved and apologized for and everything, that actually kind of makes the actual season even better for me since i know its temporary but its still ANGST

best lore: season 3/5

another tie 😔 cant decide between worldbuilding lore and monster lore

s3 definitely has the most worldbuilding lore with all the avatars and rituals and all that. i mean gerry literally gives so much lore in his episode i cant ignore that

its just so nice after so many episodes to FINALLY get some actual information

but also s5 has lore on the actual fears behind the stuff that got explained in s3 so thats ALSO a thing.

i just. cannot decide lmao

FINAL RANKING

season 3. best meta story, best lore & best character interaction. just. yea this one is my favourite

season 4. best angst & best jonmartin. i can barely remember the meta story for that season, i dont think there was rly one outside of dealing w the end of s3? but the angst & jonmartin easily make up for that

season 5. best lore & characters + one of best statement seasons. i didnt add that category but also immaculate vibes. its lowkey tied with s4 too but Monster!Jon is just too good not to rank it in 2nd place

season 1. best statements and also immaculate vibes. this is 100% the scariest season and i rly like that abt it. it doesnt have much of a story yet which makes sense (no lighter for automatic tapes yet 😔) and theres less characters which means i cant put it much higher but when it Does happen its Great

season 2. its definitely good and the supplementals are hilarious but its not on the same level for me as the other seasons. maybe thats just me but i also feel like s2 should have introed jon becoming an avatar more since i already got spoiled but jon asking leitner if hes "one of them" still lowkey came out of the blue for me. plus his character changed so much to the beginning of s3 i was legit shocked to find out in ep 81 that jon was younger than 50 lmao. it IS still a v good season though!!!

#tma spoilers #the magnus archives #jonmartin #its literally 3am iveb #*been typing nonestop for 40 minutes #oof

[ningdungi]

fairy prince!yeonjun

this has been in my draft for so long since CYSM i decided to just post it...lengthy and messy because originally it was just a prompt :D also inspired by she-ra and the princesses of power lol i love that show

pairing: yeonjun x reader (fem)

genre: fantasy, a little angsty

summary: you got captured by yeonjun, the crown prince of the fairy kingdom in the magic forest

choi yeonjun, the crown prince of the fairy kingdom deep in the magic forest

the fairy kingdom has been one of the greatest protectors of the forest for thousands of years, along with other kingdoms in the magic island

the island being covered almost 1/3 by the forest, the fairy kingdom remains one of the biggest and strongest kingdom to ever exist

however, it is also not the friendliest kingdom as it is hidden deep in the forest to protect the ancient magic and stones

the foreign organization exploits the hell out of the island but never get to touch the forest as it is protected by magic and ancient spirit of the ecosystems

the leader of the evil interstellar organization wasn’t so dumb either, they waited for years preparing the best strategy to get what they want: the ancient magic and (said to be) stolen stones to combine with their crazy technology so they can conquer the universe

the leader of the evil interstellar organization wasn’t so dumb either, they waited for years preparing the best strategy to get what they want: the ancient magic and (said to be) stolen stones to combine with their crazy technology so they can conquer the universe

mistaken for a new kingdom, the evil organization is known for their evil sinister king. When rlly he’s just a capitalist asshole that only cares abt money and power... and his precious daughter—or what the locals call—the evil princess, you

he also has a younger son, prince taehyun, your half-brother, who happens to be a genius and good with technologies. But his father wanted him to be a warrior, not some nerd. So he’s never really fond of him :(

one day you grew tired of being seen as a delicate doll that needs protection, you’re a trained warrior that’s always at least on the top 3 in class. Plus you’re older than taehyun so you need to prove yourself to your father if you want to be force captain and to take the throne one day (yes i’ve been watching a lot of she-ra) but your father just couldn’t risk it

one day, the your kingdom poisoned the forest and unlike any previous failed attempt, this time it finally worked

the day the invasion occurred, you sneaked out of the evil kingdom to join the force that your half-brother co-lead... i mean, you have lots of knowledge about the history and ecosystem of the magic forest, thanks to the help of your best friend, healer elf prince!soobin, whose kingdom had been corrupted by your father (but he still hangs around bc they did no harm to the elf kingdom, just taking over the whole region)

i mean, what could possibly go wrong?

well thee answer is: everything

you got captured IMMEDIATELY by the fairies

even better, you’re captured by the fairy prince!yeonjun himself. you were sneaking in the trees under the moon light, in the dark dark forest. and thats how you ended up being strangled by the prince himself and tied up with vines and thorns

you were in an awe the entire time bc you had no idea that the fairy prince would be this beautiful and ethereal. he just looks so... delicate and magical and soft, despite the fact that he almost choked you to death

you’ve just never seen any creature as beautiful as him, all glowing and sparkling softly under the moonlight

the glimmering luxurious pastel dress that he wore fits him perfectly, and the flower crown on his blonde locks made little butterflies fly upon him. His eyes cold but shines brightly, and everywhere he goes, he leaves trails of fairy dust and sparkles

but to your surprise, he’s kinda mean and short tempered. A frown never leaves his soft peachy lips

one look at you and he goes "... and what could the infamous little princess of the evil kingdom be doing in MY land? doing MEAN and EVIL stuff? hm??”

you’ve heard about the fairies not being the most friendly creature but you thhought they were just vicious, not sarcastic and seems angry all the time

and strangely enough, unlike other fairies, he didn’t have wings. And the flower crown on his blonde hair looked more like horns growing out of his head

he grew impatient from your lack of response but he couldn’t kill you yet, he needed you to get back at the evil kingdom

so he brought you to his kingdom—the kingdom’s prison, to be exact. But it’s just a beautiful chamber filled with wild plants and flowers and glowing fireflies underneath the moonlight, you were kinda confused when he said it’s a prison since the concept of prison that you grew up with is practically just a cold dark chamber of torture

“THIS is your PRISON? you sure you’re not taking me on a fairy date just now? to meet your pretty little fairy friends?” you said with a smug on your face, knowing that he wouldnt dare to intentionally hurt you, as he is a creature of natural protector despite his short temper

so you use this opportunity to annoy the hell out of him

“pretty flower crowns you got there” “btw where are your wings? aren’t all fairies supposed to have sparkly translucent wings?” “honestly i thought prisons are supposed to be a little more dark and intimidating you know, not like this pretty fairy garden”

you’d give him headache and the urge to use some forbidden magic curse on you but he didn’t because your corpse wouldn’t do any good

“these are HORNS! and not every fairy have the same physical features, stop stereotyping us! it’s disrespectful” he snapped

you were just complimenting him why is he always so cranky

i mean his horns look so beautiful they could easily be mistaken as a crown...

after gathering some information, you broke out of the prison with the help of the dying forest and weakening magic force

but you didn’t want to return just yet. you needed to gather more information as the forest started to heal

also you’re kinda lost your way back home lol

your father was FURIOUS, he blamed everyone for your abduction. even your little brother got enough beating for that

as days gone by, you feel like you’re getting closer to the secrets of the island, and also the fairy prince

and every encounter with him it’s just consist of a lot of bickering and sword fighting and being angry at each other

one time your faces were far too close to each other it made you let your guards down, but you snapped out of it quickly and proceed to strangle him

for some reason he never try to actually kill you and you never seem to get the right chance to kill him. it’s weird coming from you bc that’s literally what’s you’re trained for, to kill the prince. you still gotta prove yourself, remember?

but you’re getting used to each other’s presence so much that it became amusing for him

“wow (y/n) this is actually a fun date idea. I’m giving it a 4/10. could’ve been a solid 10 if you didn’t try to stab me in the ribs tho :/“ he said in the middle of a sword fight

one day you’re battling in some strange part in the forest, you were spying on him but got caught

but little did you know, it was one of the forest’s sacred sites. It’s filled with the strongest magic and ancient technology and guarded by forces you don’t know yet

you got struck by some ancient magic, resulting in some strange event to happen. which led you to be captured by the fairy prince yeonjun himself, again

you were kinda weak from the struck so most of the time he’s the one guarding you in the prison, keeping an eye on you and limiting your suspicious moves

so all you can do in the meantime is to either insult his annoyingly beautiful prison or annoy the prince himself

he always seems pissed and suspicious for no reason so it’s kinda fun to you

“are you in pain or something? did you get struck by some strange magic too? why are you always so mean and angry?? are you hurting somewhere ??"

“excuse YOU? am i supposed NOT TO ?? maybe i wouldn’t be so mean and angry all the time if the evil kingdom DON’T try to exploit the forest ALL THE TIME, every think of that? does that ring a bell? here's a hint: i’m talking about YOU, princess (y/n)” he’d roll his eyes, angrily walking in circles. kinda mad at his dad for making him guard you

i mean... there should be enough guards in this castle, right?

little did you know, the magic is actually weakening... leaving the royal bloods’ magic the only force that can protect the forest, for now

“for the hundreth time, i am NOT a princess! i’m a fucking warrior, so stop calling me that!” sometimes you get pissed for his sarcastic remarks and his attitudes in general too. also this time you’re not really feeling well after the struck

“whatever you say, my princess” he’d blow flower petals on your face before giving you a smirk, dancing away gracefully as he picks flowers and tuck them into his flower crown... dozens of flowers immediately grows back for every single flower he picks from the ground, what a sight

you’d blush and try to look away. he never used his magic and charms for this type of things, usually it’s just for some silly pranks or weak attempts temporary torture in the battlefield (bc using magic drains his energy quickly)... so why now? was he really using magic or was is it just you?

after so many encounters and chances of being alone together, you sure know how to get on each other’s nerves... and each other’s head

you were there for a couple days, it’s kinda weird that you didn’t try to escape

turned out you were kinda sick, the strange magic struck weakened your senses and abilities. but you didnt want to admit it nor let him know that you’re literally vulnerable right now

you were smart enough to use this opportunity to get close to him, telling lies about how pitiful your life’s been as a princess and how you just want to prove yourself to your father, you don’t even care about conquering the universe

he didn’t buy that at first, not until you told him about how the evil kingdom sees the forest. you’d say your father thinks the fairies are the bad guys bc they stole the stones from the ancestors of your father’s planet thousands of years ago and that they’re just trying to get it back to heal their dying planet

you didn’t lie at that part, it was true... at least for the invaders. that’s how he kinda get surprised he had to tell the fairies’ version of the story

turned out that it’s all just a misunderstanding between the two parties, but unlike yeonjun being the democratic soon-to-be leader that he is, you still want approval

which you can only get by killing the fairy crown prince yeonjun before his coronation

but jokes on you, you kinda have feelings for him too. you didnt even try to kill him when he fell asleep holding you in his arms... you’d always say to yourself that ‘it wasn’t the right time’ to kill him just yet

of course it wasn’t. there never was, and never will be. you love him, dumbass. even the moon shining upon you the two of you could easily tell

he’d start to tell you secrets... secrets of the forest, his ancestors and families, the kingdom, the magic island, everything

you knew the forest is dying, but what you didn’t know is that he never wanted to be king,, he doesn’t feel like he’s qualified to be one. hell, he doesn’t even have wings, and he’s got horns growing out of his head. no fairy king or queen written in history of the magic island to not have wings, ever

“but it’s not required, right? literally nobody said you’ve got to be born with wings in order to be a fairy king. it’s already in your blood, yeonjun.” you would reassure him as you lift his chin so you can clearly see his eyes... all shaky and scared

he’d kiss you and you swore you almost forgot about your personal mission of luring and getting him into your trap

he told you about when he was just a fairy child... other young fairies and forest creatures bullied him for having horns and no wings,, i mean... he’s a fairy after all. it’s actually really natural, it’s just unusual among the immature creatures

one day he ran away way too far out of the forest... to the giant thorned vine bushes that looked like a cavern... it was dark and scary, he’s never seen this part of the island before

he didn’t know that it’s an entrance to the darker side of the island, where your father landed the ship and invaded a whole region of natural resources and innocent creatures, including the elf kingdom

and then he met a little girl, holding a basket full of flowers and wild berries, with a messy flower crown made of wild flowers on her head. she approached him and asked him softly if he’s lost and why is he crying

he was scared at first because she’s dressed like human, but after a while he learned that she’s harmless. he told her he’s scared that one day he’s gonna turn into a monster bc of his growing horns

“horns? i thought these were a crown... a very peculiar one, i must admit. but didn’t you say you’re a prince? a prince is supposed to wear a crown, right?” the little girl said brightly

“here, let me tuck these flowers in between your hairs and horns... now it’s a flower crown! it’s always been a crown, but now you have flowers!” she would jump around happily, which made the little prince smiled a little too

the story kinda shocked you... could it be that...?

no, snap out of it! it’s not even important nor relevant to your current circumstances

but you never thought that the crown that he proudly wore all the time has been... a growing pain for him

speaking of pain, the part of your back that’s got struck by the strange magic the other day keeps hurting you, and that night it started to get worse, two vertical scars started to form, followed by black liquid running down from each one

“you’re hurt! why didn’t you tell me?” he snapped, his voice filled with worries and anger. maybe it’s because of the fact that black blood could only mean one thing... dark magic

he took care of you and looked after you all the time

and yet you’d still tell him lies... and giving him false hopes

“let’s run away, together... to somewhere far, somewhere safe, we can build our own forever...”

#lol sorry english isnt my first language #also this is my first txt au so sorry if its a bit off lol #but fairy prince!yeonjun been on my mind 24/7 ever since they dropped the eternally mv #the thought of it makes me go :((((( #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt angst #tomorrow x together #ningdungi writes #txt au #alternate universe #fairy prince!yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt magic au #txt fantasy #txt fanfic #tomorrow x tomorrow #fairy prince au #magic island au #txt fluff #i guess #txt eternally

[summoner-kentauris]

What does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir? (You can either just answer or write a lil story if you feel like it)

OOOO now i have thought in my free time a fair amount about what líf thinks of zasha but, and i cannot believe this, i have not thought about what zacharias thinks about líf and thrasir. full disclosure, book III happened to be going on when i formally stopped playing feh. i kept up with the story after that but, theres my obligatory knowledge base disclaimer.

also minor cws through this whole thing because i talk here and there about zacharias and his... mm, canonical relationship to death/selfharm

-

so, i spent a lot of time thinking about this one, and i keep coming back to my gut reaction, which is that i don't think zacharias would like them very much. i dont know why i think that, though.

PART ONE

i think a lot of it would depend on how they approach him, which is maybe why i've spent more time thinking about the reverse of this ask, come to think of it. see, i think zacharias could go any which way in terms of what he thinks of them. i think he could hate them, as two people who killed versions of everyone he ever loved, including metaphorically killing off the two people closest to him.

i think he could love him, having seen the hell (ha ha literally) that they went through. understanding what that feels like. given the way he talks about his suicide attempts, and honestly that he spent most of book I trying to get people to kill him, really his whole relationship to death. i mean the man talks a lot about death and killing. he might not be the feh OC who best understands how manipulative and... whats a good word. alluring? what im trying to say is that besides eir, he might be the one most likely to understand why Hel and hel's offer appealed to líf and thrasir. i feel like this bit has a place here: "With his dying breath...he begged for his life. He called out your names! "I'll do anything you ask! Just let me live!" excepting of course that i still am not sure if i think he said/thought that or not. ive never been sure who really is in control of speaking right then and there. Anyway. Probably he could come to understand Líf and Thrasir's stance, enough that he could care about them the same ways he cares about his versions of Alfonse ann Veronica

on the other hand, i can see him being fully horrified by the choices those two made in response. this bit: Not anyone... This dark god...seeks death. And it cries for the destruction of Askr. Like. Líf and Thrasir are intentionally enacting the same thing as the dark god's desires, in order to correct a mistake they made that, uh, also enacted the same thing as dark god's desires. talk about awkward. and i think Zasha, who has lived with this nightmare in his head for so long, might recoil from people who are so directly aligned with it. who wants to be around someone who has become, who has chosen to become, everything you ever feared you'd be? especially when you're nearly drowning from the effort of fighting to stop yourself.

i could also see him meeting them and it being incredibly, incredibly bad for him. i feel like, he puts a whole lot of... mm. what am i trying to say.here:

Yet it is you that says this, dear friend, and so I must consider it. I see the faith reflected in your eyes. Perhaps it is possible...

SPEAKING OF BUNNY ZACHARIAS I ALSO THINK YOU COULD TAKE THE FOLLOWING:

You never change. All you see is a lofty goal, even if you lack the means to achieve it... The idea that gods would fall by the hand of man is a fantasy... and a preposterous one. This is a goal that even our ancestors Líf and Thrasir could not achieve.

setting aside the obligatory wtf zash i know you know your lore (fuck, maybe there is no killing the gods, maybe all Fire Emblem victories are temporary at best and Zenith is the only one who knows it. but i think, probably not), i think you could spin a very believable scenario where zacharias takes one look at these two ambitious, arrogant posers and absolutely refuses to speak to them any further.

so, part one, i think that zacharias could think any number of things about líf and thrasir. which i suppose means that i think he's fairly neutral on the subject of líf and thrasir. makes sense to me, i suppose. i feel like zacharias | bruno has practice (regardless of whether he's any good at it or not, or whether its any good for him) at holding and maintaining separate personas, so I don't think the fact that líf and thrasir were alfonse and veronica would necessarily be all that important to him.

which brings me to part ii

what happened to dead zenith zacharias

if zacharias is neutral on the subject, I think a lot of their relationship is going to pushed in one direction or another by líf and thrasir themselves.

and, complicating matters (when do I make things simple?), i think their approach to zacharias would of course depend on what happened to their zacharias. correct me if im wrong, but i dont think we have even a hint what happened to him.

there are three ish options I'm seeing. one: as dead world zenith is further along in its timeline and as zacharias claims he's almost out of time with his curse, other zacharias died due to that before the war with hel. i feel like scenario one is the most likely to lead to a good relationship between main zacharias and líf and thrasir.

two: mr. professional "knows plot relevant things out of knowhere" was the one who found out about angrboða's heart in the first place. especially given "As destruction took hold, we joined with Embla to seek the forbidden heart...", which to me sounds a lot like, "hel was kicking our ass then zacharias showed up and said we should go get this mystical plot object from embla". thrasir even says she and líf weren't allies before the world went to shit. anyway. hear me out here:

Yes. The heart is sealed within an Emblian blood temple. If that seal is broken, someone will die each time the heart beats... Those who perform the rite are the first to die.

Now. Líf claims he was the one who broke it open, but he also was present for the war that followed and only after was he killed and inducted into hel's army. so. both of those things can't be true. i propose that the magic mcguffin located in a sealed emblian blood temple was unlocked by our dear zacharias and thats what killed him in other zenith. i think its possible that other veronica was the one who did it, but you know. its all imagination at this point. also, and i forgot this, but thrasir does go off about how she can't lose until she saves her brother, so. something especially tragic happened at least. and oh boy is scenario two a nice fresh tasty tragedy. so that's scenario two. other zacharias directly died as a result of attempts to fight hel

number three thing that could have happened to zach is boring. he's always off doing things, he could have just died off screen. i mean. everyone did, eventually.

frankly he could still be alive for all i know. the heart appears to take the lives of people in the world, not of the world, or else the summoner would have been fine. so, if zacharias was on one of his off world jaunts, he could conceivably be a-okay. well. as okay as someone who's whole world died. i don't think that's what happened, because thrasir is pretty clear about feeling that she failed him, but yknow.

líf and thrasir's reactions to the above

thrasir is i think the most straightforward. i can't really see her approaching main zacharias with anything but positive intent. even if she's only a little bit open, i think thrasir and zacharias will probably have a decently tolerable relationship. if zacharias can come back to a country that exiled him as a kid and let his mother die in a dungeon and then go on to not just befriend but protect and care for a half sister he didnt know before then, then i think he'll find a way to care about thrasir. you know, intsys could have had fun making another perpetual older brother character. as i understand it, xander gets brother'd a lot, he and zach could have talked. could have been fun. a whole, zacharias, a historically traumatized child: *arrives in a world* every currently traumatized kid in a five mile radius: oh shit this one's ours now. you know what im saying? found family except zacharias would very much like it to stop finding him. he's got important brooding to do. but anway, they didn't go that route and its a tragedy.

líf is... more complicated. i think scenario one creates the most positive outlook. i can see him still having guilt over zacharias' loss, but i think any of it would be overshadowed by everything else that happened. in this scenario, líf finally gets back a piece of the world he'd lost. yeah, it's not his zacharias, but still. it is a zacharias, who is living and breathing and frowning and asking why you are staring at me, knight. i think the two of them could get along rather well, although i see them having significant issues with pessimism. inch-restingly enough... the dark curse bades its hosts to kill askrans. and líf is, well. dead. so... perhaps... perhaps líf wouldn't trigger the curse like alfonse does. in that case, not only does líf get someone back he thought he'd never see again, but so does zacharias.

scenario two is just a nightmare. frankly, i initially thought this scenario would lead to líf just ignoring zacharias (out of guilt, pain, etc), but i was rereading the scripts looking for the spelling of angrboða and this came up:

Tell Hel. She'll erase those memories. She'll erase them all...

so, honestly? i think that in scenario two líf just straight up gets hel to remove his memories of zacharias (as an aside maybe this is also why he never ever ever talks about other anna >:{ )

in that case, líf wouldn't really have any reason to talk to this man, who causes this empty deeply sad feeling to well up in him for now discernible reason. and zacharias has no reason (or time) to talk to this standoffish general of the dead. so. that's a real ships in the night moment.

number three i think líf would still hold the same guilt as in number two, but i don't think it would be as horrifically tragic, so i think it's more likely he'd be willing to approach zacharias. he does appear to have even worse of a thing than alfonse about not opening oneself up to people, but i think that even if he's líf, he once was an alfonse, and being that this is me answering this, i don't think any alfonse can really keep away from a zacharias for very long. its a version of the person who once knew him as well as any other person in the world. like líf can't really seem to stop himself from associating with main sharena, i don't think he could stop himself from reaching out in his own way to main zacharias. and god does that man need some more friends. i think zacharias would probably be a little frightened of líf, and of what an alfonse could become. but i think probably... i feel like a lot of book i issues stem from the fact that, justified or not, zacharias thinks alfonse would risk anything, any harm to save him. i don't know that confronting an alfonse who literally risked everything and did all harm to save his world would be a comfort, but i do think zacharias would get a lot out of having someone who's already done the worst they can do. been there, done that, got the tshirt. i think zacharias would be a little afraid of what an alfonse could become, but i think he would no longer have to be afraid of... no, anxious about it. i think there's a kind of calm in having something confirmed that zacharias could appreciate. healthy? unhealthy? fuck if i know. i also think that in líf, zacharias has a friend who he can't physically hurt anymore. lífs already dead. been there done there got the.... glowing gel torso. i think, curse nonewithstanding, zacharias will always have some degree of tension and fear about hurting people he's in a relationship with, be that because of his issues with abandonment, of abandoning, of harm, etc. but you know. líf's kind of a rock. and he's already hit his rock bottom, now that i'm thinking about rocks. i think that kind of steady, placid deathness could really help zacharias. and i think he would find it soothing, whether or not he knew why.

plus he will be able to know that if the curse gets him, if he dies... he'll still have a friend in the realm of the dead. he doesnt have to be so afraid of leaving and getting left

so there we go! lots of musings. i have been thinkin about why my headcanons are less that and more elaborate branching theories, and i think it is because i would change my opinion depending on which story i wanted to tell or hear or see.so yeah. dunno which one of these answers belongs to the question, what does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir?, but hopefully at least one of them is interesting to read about!

OH also. i think he would be petty-ly annoyed about them cribing líf and thrasir's name. like full on scholar petty. probably showed up to the order in a nerdy huff excited to meet the actual factual líf and thrasir and turns out its just those two, sitting around glowing and reciting death metal lyrics like they're spoken word ballads. dont think he'd get over that ever.

#as an aside during the course of writing this #i have become convinced that ''I was powerless to stop it... There was nothing I could do...'' eir #could probably have interesting things to talk aboutwith ''he was all alone... there was nothing he could do to save himself...'' zacharias #anonymous #whew thats a lot of words #ill spell check in the morning #yeah right no ill spell check tomorrow evening #thats more likely #that was fun to think about #i hope this makes sense because i am NOT going to reread it #im going to go get dinner #sat here and DID NOT MOVE for ages #my neck is killing me #thanks zacharias

[justloosecannons]

Pancakes/ Jake ft. Eden

when: at some point in the most recent past im late uploading this my beeee Early March where: cherry bomb diner mentions: n/a description: a meetup between the two over breakfast trigger warnings: general food related triggers, mentions of nsfw related activities @partialhearts​ 

Jake:

he had tugged on a shirt purchased by her hands - wanting her to feel something for him - anything. flowers that were hand picked the day before, had begun to brown, but, he brought them all the same. sliding into the booth, he laid the flowers next to him - out of view as he waited. subconsciously, his finger picked and scratched at the top of his hand as nervous chaotically thundered through his frame.

Eden:

she was tired, but she was hoping a few cups of coffee would do her some good. she smiles when she sees jake, and he looks just as handsome as ever -- well rested. she wonders where he's been lately, what he's been doing and who he's been doing it with. he doesn't come out anymore. "hey you -" she smiles, slipping into the seat opposite him.

Jake:

his smile only widened the second her heard her voice, heart thumping chaotically beneath his bones - the way that it always seemed to whenever eden was this close. “hey!” his voice cracked, quickly clearing it in an effort to mask it. “i already ordered you usual. hope that’s okay.”

Eden:

she drums her fingers against the table and nods, trying to stay casual around jake. it was hard to be normal around him most of the time. when they were at parties it was fine, because they could blame it on the alcohol, but now? she had to do this completely sober. "oh no, that's perfect. thanks jake."

Jake:

“they should be bringing a bowl of fruit soon too..... extra strawberries.” his lips curved up at the edges as almost on time, the bowl was slid between them. without hesitation, he popped a grape between his lips. “how’s your day?”

Eden:

"i mean it's 10 so it's barely started yet." she says with a smirk, popping a piece of fruit between her lips. "you look good, are you doing something new with your hair? i never see you out anymore."

Jake:

“uh - well, i cut it a little. nothing like when i was 17 and went for the buzz - but, just because i know i’ll be surfing a lot with the weather, didn’t want hair in my face.” he shook his head to show off the way his curls bounced, a smile tugged at his lips. “i got you something.”

Eden:

she ignores the way her stomach feels when she watches his hair bounce, knowing that would just lead her down a dangerous path. "you did? what you get me?" she beams, surprised he's even making that kind of effort

Jake:

“well, it’s two parts. one now, one when you leave.” he hummed, reaching over to scoop up the flowers he had hand picked the day before. “they’re a little dead, i.... saw them yesterday, wanted you to have them.” he reached out to set them before her. “probably just need water.”

Eden:

a guilt washes over her, he was buying her flowers while she was doing god knows what with someone else. she looks stunned as she takes them, forcing a nervous smile onto her face. "oh -- they're beautiful. i don't -- what did i do to deserve these?"

Jake:

he simply shakes his head, lips cocked into the smallest grin over her reaction. “i just saw them... i don’t know what kind they are... you were always better at that than me, but they looked like eden flowers. like they belonged to you without even knowing you.”

Eden:

she feels it coming, the tears forming in her eyes, but she doesn't let them fall, they just sit in her ducts like big, threatening blobs of sadness. she misses him, she loves him, but she cannot have him -- she cannot have this. he hurts her, but like a moth to a flame, she is constantly drawn to his fire. "i love them, thank you." she says, turning to smile at him before taking a sip of her coffee.

Jake:

“i hope you can kind of nurse them back to health - i didnt really know what to do with them last night.” he chuckles softly, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. really, that’s what eden did - she took in broken things, and somehow - made them into something better. she had done it with him, he had just seemingly fallen apart with the fear of what that meant. “i read about this big volunteer thing at the great barrier reef they’re trying to set up next year. you think you’ll get to do that?”

Eden:

she examines the flowers, "i have some feed at home, i think if i trim the ends i should be able to nurse them back to health." she smiles, feeling incredibly guilty that she had not been able to take them yesterday. "i might do, i think it would be nice to sign up."

Jake:

truth be told, jake had always kept an eye on things that seemed like they would be up her alley. when they were dating, he had often volunteered to do a lot of it with her. “just sounded like it had eden james written all over it.” his smile raising at the edges as his eyes took in each of her features, completely in love. “i could help you fundraise. if you needed to..”

Eden:

"yeah...." she feels distant, holding jake back in order to protect herself. she should, shouldn't she? he's done nothing but hurt her. "as friends." eden adds, feeling her throat tighten.

Jake:

the words carry an unforeseen weight, slamming right into his chest in an effort to crack every inch of his heart he had left. instead of answering, he only nods - fearing the stinging he feels as his throat tightens up. luckily, pancakes are slid in front of him, and he doesn’t push his luck by saying anything further, instead cutting into them, averting his eyes.

Eden:

she doesn't want this distance between her and jake, it's not what she wants, not really. eden wants to be close to him, to be loved by him, to walk hand and hand with him on the beach, but she knows, she knows that jake hurts her, and she's been hurt too many times now. "how are your pancakes?" she smiles, hoping to shift the conversation.

Jake:

to say that it had been easy to cope and handle life without eden in the way he had her before - would’ve been a lot. he was self destructive, combative, and broken hearted. there was a hole in his chest and he had simply given up on trying to fill it - it was edens spot. no one else would fit. “the best. always reminds me why we come here.”

Eden:

she smiles when the tension is alleviated, thankful that her and jake can talk without making the situation weird. she doesn't want to know about what girls he's fucking right now, there's always someone, and it always hurts to see. eden loves him more than she could ever love anyone, and that was that. "i haven't been here in a while, if i'm honest."

Jake:

he could feel the confines of his chest start to spiral and the small marks in his skin, covered by jeans, but tender all the same. there was a panic. one he couldn’t tell eden about? because it was far too much, and she looked so good. he had been told she was happy, and he had really never ranted anything more. “oh yeah? i come here every sunday.” he shrugs, knowing it was one of the only pieces of her he had left.

Eden:

"i guess i just haven't had much time." she whispers, sensing the change in shift when jake's mood changes. "i've been wrapped up in work, i'm trying to focus on that lately."

Jake:

his heart rate seemed to pick up speed at the mention of not having enough time, his mind immediately wandering off - only tethered when she mentions work. “yeah? been busy with it?” he tips his head to the side, desperately trying to be the best version of himself.

Eden:

she's not cruel enough to divulge into what she's been doing, she's careful, unlike jake was. she doesn't want him to hurt the way she did when she had to watch him with other girls, making out with them in front of her. "pretty much. i think i wanna get out of the aquarium."

Jake:

nights were long, filled with replaying every mistake he made with her on a big screen in his mind - leaving himself empty and guilty. never able to sleep without the lone stuffed animal she had forgotten, even when he was with people - it was a temporary fix to a long term problem that he couldn’t fix. “why’s that?” he rasped, tipping his head to the side.

Eden:

“i just think i might do better out there, you know? doing some actual rescuing. i love teaching kids about the coral reef, i do - and all that. and i love taking care of the animals we have. i just think, i’d feel more purpose if i was out there doing something.” she shrugs, pushing her plate aside.

Jake:

he nods, well aware that eden was destined to change the world, and he found himself more and more proud of her daily. “well, whatever you do - it’ll be amazing.” he promises, pulling his wallet from his pocket. when he opens it and a polaroid of her falls out, he’s quick to scoop it up and slide it back in its place.

Eden:

she spots the picture falling from his wallet, and it's only on the floor for a moment, so she can't quite make out who it is, or what it is. if she asks, it might make things awkward, it could be her -- but if it isn't? she gives jake a bright smile and bottles down her feelings once more. "i think it'd be good if i did go, some time away."

Jake: 

 the idea of not seeing eden again for an undetermined amount of time, makes everything in his body hurt in a way that he wasn’t really expecting. clenching his jaw, he nodded, finally forcing his eyes up in her direction. “i... have one more more thing for you i just... would it be alright if you didn’t... look at it until i was out of view?”

Eden:

it's hard for her to accept gifts from jake, she doesn't know what this means, or what taking things from him might mean to him. she's scared, scared because being close to jake left her vulnerable, and she's been vulnerable to jake since she was 18. when she was away at college, it was easier to not think of these things, but here he was. "i can....sure." she smiles weakly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Jake:

it’s not something he’s spent money on, but rather something he’s grown accustomed to do. at any point if he sees anything that reminds him of her, he scribbles exactly what he’s thinking. nodding slowly, he takes a moment of silence to let his eyes flicker over her features. loving eden was everything. and regret would always weigh in his chest like an anvil. “here every sunday. just in case.” and with that, he slid the paint sample face down and slid it over to her.

Eden:

why does he do this to her? she wonders to herself with a heavy heart that somehow she may never be free of what this is she has with jake. does he love her just because of how easy it is for her to give in to him? because she's always there? what would happen if she just stopped, what if she stopped answering? would he still love her then? is this even love? or is it just comfort? she holds her hand over the note and smiles sadly at him, "every sunday."

Jake:

its all he needs to hear - that hes hear, and that he will keep coming here. its the only pillar of consistency that he has. mistakes dont even cover what he regrets - losing eden had been a wake up call. she had been nothing but good to him, and he had messed it up based off previous peoples actions, pissing away the only form of happiness he had ever know. nodding slowly, he offered her the smallest smile before dropping cash onto the table for the waitress, and just like that - he was gone.

Eden:

she watches him leave and he takes a vital piece of her with him. when he's gone, she finally looks at the gift he has left her and she feels empty -- this is how jake makes her feel. he gives, and he makes promises, he gives her pieces of hope and then he tears them away. he doesn't realise he's being cruel, she doesn't want crumbs, she wants him to be a man.

#jake ft. eden #jp.