#it’s not like I don’t care about the other characters - I do - but it is clear to me that Fitzsimmons are the reason I hung around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suguann · 2 days

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Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face.

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids.

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.

And then Mio kicks the ball into—

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips—

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.”

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.”

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.)

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #fem!reader #.things i write

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uzurakis · 3 days

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hi kiara! can you please make a continuation of “their act of intimacy” but with gojo, toji, and sukuna? i melted the first time i read them with the other characters 😭 hope you have a good day ahead of you ❤️

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY?

featuring: gojo satoru. ryomen sukuna. toji fushiguro.

n. aaa thanku for liking the previous one! this is for you nonnie <3 didn’t really proofread cause i’m running late on sleep lol. PART ONE HERE :0

GOJO SATORU. gojo finds it calming when you both take a shower together. however, his notion of "calming" may differ from the ordinary. instead of drowsing in warm water and doing all those private things such as soaping his back and shampooing his hair, you and him sometimes have other spontaneous ideas in mind.

as the warm water cascaded down, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of closeness that's as comforting as it is exhilarating. satoru, with his irrepressible charm and mischievous grin, stood beside you, his presence filled the space with a playful energy.

"ah, feels like heaven," he sighed, whilst eyes gleaming with shenanigans. you chuckled, reaching for the shampoo. “don’t start a water fight again, satoru. let us enjoy a nice and relaxing—“

but before you could react, a splash of water hit you square in the face, causing you to sputter and laugh. “gotcha!" the man exclaimed, his laughter echoed through the tiled walls.

"it’s sooo on now!" you declared, retaliating with a splash of your own.

and just like that, the bathroom transformed into a battleground, with water flying in every direction as you both engaged in your playful antics. amidst the laughter and the splashing, there's an undeniable sense of joy that filled the room.

"careful, satoru," you warned, dodging his playful advances, "you're going to get soap in your eyes."

but he just grinned. "not before you get ‘em first, babe.”

and so, you guys continued your playful banter. soaked to the bone and grinning from ear to ear, gojo satoru defines his own calming moments with you.

RYOMEN SUKUNA. your boyfriend is a big guy, or so he believes before you swoop in and baby him. does he resist? yes. but will he eventually agree? absolutely.

the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filled the air as you stood in the kitchen. across the room, your boyfriend, sukuna, leaned against the counter, watching you with a bemused expression. you took a small portion with a spoon in hand, "say 'a' for me, sukuna.”

"hell nah.” his face was holding back the disgust. “you know, i can feed myself, right?"

"come on, baby, just one bite," you urged, eyes pleading. he hesitated for a moment, then sighed, giving in to you. “no—tsk, fine.”

“just this once.”

as he reluctantly opened his mouth, you couldn't help but suppress a giggle at the sight of him being spoon-fed like a child. your boyfriend’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly swallowed the pasta, avoiding your gaze.

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?" you teased, unable to contain your amusement.

he grumbled something unintelligible in response, but as you proceeded to feed him, he took every piece and never turned it down until the last bite.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never declines your offer to groom him. he rarely takes attention to his appearance, whereas you insist on cleaning up him up and do it with your own hands. at first, he doesn't think of it as intimate thing because isn’t it just about cutting and shaving? but as time goes on, he understands how much you value him and treasures the time you spent solely on him.

the soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue over the cozy living room. toji sat on the couch, his unkempt hair falling into his eyes. you watched him from afar with a fond smile tugging at your lips.

“toji,” you called out. “your hair has gotten longer than the last time i remember.” he chuckled softly, already accustomed to this routine. "is it that time again?"

with scissors and a comb in hand, you approached him with a smile. “c’mere, sit down, baby.”

letting a shrug plus a grin, the man complied, settling onto the stool you'd placed in the middle of the room. as you draped a towel around his shoulders, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

"you know, i understand why you enjoy doing this so much.” he admitted, leaning back as you began to comb through his hair.

"you know why?” you replied, your voice soft as you worked. "it's about taking care of each other, babe. showing love in the little things."

he fell silent at your words, mulling them over as you continued to trim away stray strands. gradually, the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of ease and contentment.

@uzurakis — requests are open! <3

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pinkiemachine · 9 hours

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I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

#fan art #art #dc #dc comics #batman #Bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #Catwoman #batxcat

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liv2post · 2 days

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Dungeon Bats

Animagus!Snape x Animagus!Professor!Reader Wordcount: ~1000 Summary: Severus Snape thinks the Muggle Studies professor is strange only to find out she is an animagus with an awfully familiar form.

Read here or on ao3

The Muggle Studies professor was strange.

Hogwarts always had its fair share of odd characters occupying teaching positions. Even a ghost, evidently, was capable of teaching. But he couldn’t place what it was about you that made him so suspicious.

You were human, not like Firenze or Professor Binns. You weren’t kooky like Hagrid or Professor Trelawney. Outwardly, you appeared perfectly normal. However, there were oddities if one looked closely.

You ate fruit. Lots of it. Every day at breakfast, instead of toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, things the other teachers would partake in, your breakfast consisted of fruit and only fruit, including a cup of pumpkin juice. Your plate appeared almost like a small pyramid, stacked with cubes of cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries, honeydew, and grapes, leaving behind a pool of sweet juices when consumed.

You also had a tendency to pop up and disappear seemingly out of nowhere. One time he went into your classroom to talk to you about moving a couple of detentions around only to find it empty, having swept his gaze around it. Just as he approached your office door to knock on it, you uttered a soft “hello” as you stood in the middle of the classroom, making him jump out of his skin.

Furthermore, Filch had brought up to him once that he could hear some perplexing screeching noises echoing from random parts of the castle at night and even what sounded like right outside the windows. What was strange about it is he only brought them up the morning after you were scheduled to perform rounds.

This wasn’t to say he disliked you. Quite the opposite. Out of everyone in the castle, he’d say he preferred your company. Who he'd rather sit next to at Quidditch games? Probably you. Even though you were the Muggle Studies teacher, you had plenty of knowledge about Care for Magical Creatures and DADA. Potions weren’t your forte, but you’d happily let him ramble about the subject, even when he’d realize too late that he was rambling.

“Why do you eat so much fruit?” he asked one day when you came into his classroom eating a sliced-up apple.

“Oh, uh, that’s just my animagus urges. Sorry, am I dripping juice on the ground again?”

He blinked dumbly at you. “You’re an animagus?”

You chuckled, “You didn’t know, Severus? I thought Minerva would’ve told you. Yes, I am an animagus.”

“What animal?” he asked. You smirked and set down the apple slices on a nearby table before shifting. Your robes moved with you, swishing up and shrinking until you took the form of a fruit bat. You flapped and swooped about the air in a few circles before landing on the flat surface of the table, using your talons and thumbs hooks to wriggle toward your sweet fruit.

“You’re a fruit bat,” he observed. You screeched at him in confirmation and began to gingerly gnaw on the flesh of the nearest apple slice. Severus remained quiet for a little, seemingly thinking to himself as his fingers flexed and his jaw clenched slightly. Much to your curiosity, he wordlessly set his wand down and took a deep breath. Within a flash, his robes swooped around him, and in his place was a fruit bat, just like you, but bigger. He flapped his wings just hard enough to get him onto the table as he landed with an audible thud. It was pretty much impossible for bats to take flight without launching from a tree or a high-up place.

[Woah! You’re a bat too? That’s awesome! Is that why students call you a “dungeon bat?”]

[Yes, I am an animagus whose form is also a bat, and no, that’s just a coincidence.]

[How come you’re so much bigger than me?]

[You don’t exactly tower over me, Y/N.]

From then on, the two of you would sometimes go on day flights if both of you had some free time. While both of you wished to fly at nights, you still needed time to sleep and perform your teaching duties during the day. However, your favorite times were when the both of you were scheduled to do rounds. Your classrooms were on opposite sides of the castle so it was almost like a game to use echolocation to find each other in the dark and meet up. It was a little fun considering the dungeons were almost maze-like. If the two of you were sure that no students were out and about, you’d ditch your duties, ascend up the Astronomy tower, and take off into the night sky, playfully chasing one another or showing off flying moves.

Severus hardly used his form unless it was necessary. It’s not like one got to choose which animal they could shift into. Admittedly, he was a bit let down when he first shifted all those years ago, but with you he learned to embrace his batiness, though he still resisted such urges when it came to eating a castle’s worth of fruit. He liked flying, of course, but he found that he quite liked hanging upside down too, especially when he needed a break from grading or just wanted a change of scenery. Sometimes he’d come hang around your office when you were grading and vice versa.

Dumbledore came to visit his classroom one late afternoon to talk about a particularly unruly Slytherin, but could not find the potion master anywhere, not even in his office. It was rather dark, all the lamps extinguished and curtains drawn. What he did notice, however, was two wands haphazardly tossed onto the stone ground near Snape’s desk, one of which he recognized as your wand. Dumbledore craned his neck up towards the ceiling where an old chandelier hung and sure enough, hanging from one of the rungs was a large fruit bat, and swaddled in its wings being held close to its fur, a smaller fruit bat. The both of you were napping. The old wizard smiled at the sight and slowly receded back through the doorway, happy that Severus had finally found a little bat of his own.

#severus snape fanfiction #severus snape x reader #severus x y/n #snape x reader #animagus!reader #harry potter #pro severus snape #severus snape #animagus severus snape

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tteokdoroki · 9 hours

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hurricane heartbreak katsuki bakugou ── ᡣ𐭩 ˙ ̟🩰 !!

⋆˙ᝰ about ! you’ve always thought that katsuki would follow you to the ends of the earth, until suddenly, he stops. especially when he realises that he’s better off without you. ( 2.6K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, no happy ending. characters aged up to 20s, unrequited love, friendship breakups, regular breakups, confessions, gaslighting, reader is morally flawed and a bad friend, katsuki is a hopeless romantic :(, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou - not beta read!

as usual, katsuki moves to open the door before his mind can catch up.

he knows that he shouldn’t. if he kept the doors locked he could keep his heart safe from the ache that comes with the person on the other side. but, the bigger and weaker half of him succumbs to the longing laced in the blood that soars through the beating muscle keeping him alive. the same muscle every form of media since the dawn of time has associated with the human desire to be loved and adored.

it’s a human code that he can’t go against, like asking a neanderthal to fight it’s basic instincts. katsuki opens the door not because he wants to, but because he has to, even if his entire body twitches against the will of his one track mind and his hand lands on the cool metal doorknob in advance of his logical train of thought. besides, it’s raining tonight, and it would be cruel to leave you outside.

as usual, when you step past the threshold of the number two hero’s lush, bachelor pad-like home — he expects things to be different. for you to waltz in with your arms wide spread and a spark of joy in your eyes because you love seeing the blonde and because you missed him.

“it was so horrible,” you wail to him instead, just as you had done so on the phone — except this time, the cadence to your usually bright voice is as dull and as dreary as the weather outside. “he blew up at me, said that we were done ‘n that i was too clingy. just like that,” pouting, you shrug off your rain-slicked jacket and allow your best friend to hang it up for you. before you can start quivering like a pathetic stray dog, the begrudgingly kind pro hero places a set of clothes, warm and fresh from the dryer, into your hands and ushers you deeper into the space he calls home.

“fuck that guy,” he tells you, while you rant to him on the walk down the hall.

katsuki lets you you dry off and disappear into his room for spare clothes (as if you own the place), giving himself time to think and reflect. the you that katsuki knows and has bitterly come to love is hollowed and desperate — vying for any attention or affection she can get from people who just don’t care. he’s never understood it, the reasons why you go vying for the validation of others who don’t deserve a millisecond of your time, let alone your precious smile.

you know, the one that brings out the crows feet at the corners of your doe-like eyes and lifts the edges of your glossed lips ever so slightly. you illuminate a room and fill it with warmth when you’re happy and feel loved but when you’re like this… thrown out into the rain whilst being hungry for more — much like that of a stray…

…it’s bakugou’s hand that reaches out to feed you tender love and care from the pieces of his own broken soul. he does everything im his power to make you smile again, otherwise he’d shake the heavens from the sky and bring their shattered pieces back down to earth with his destructive quirk…for you.

everything is always for you.

katsuki is the one who deserves to see your radiant grin and be the one that’s always on your mind. so perhaps, he is no better than you, starved with a craving for the attention of someone whose thoughts are simply elsewhere. with someone else.

you resurface from his room wearing a discontinued all-might shirt with an iron-on design that’s cracked on the front and a pair of fluffy dynamight themed socks kept spare in katsuki’s wash for whenever you come over. by this time he’s already popped on the kettle for some herbal tea, though his back remains facing you — fingers clenched against his smooth marble countertop. “why would he say that?”

you shrug. “i don’t know… i probably deserve it. this always happens.”

to his right, the kettle’s whistle reaches it’s crescendo but katsuki doesn’t bother to add hot water to your tea.

the assessment you make as you pad back over to katsuki is only partly correct. he turns abruptly, prepped and ready to loosely wrap his arms around you in a familiar hug, another step in this bi-monthly routine the two of you have going. your nose presses into the middle of his molten chest, sending a pang through his heart like an arrow from Cupid whilst simultaneously riling up the butterflies in his tummy. you’re so cute, so sweet and it makes the blonde feel special to be able to witness the more vulnerable parts of you — the parts of you pieced back together by inexpensive glue after you’ve been shattered by heartbreak once more.

you, you’re too sweet to deserve this pain. the same pain that weighs down on the pro hero’s shoulders because he can’t stop chasing after you. this always happens, but you don’t deserve it. even if it’s like some sort of cathartic karma for leading bakugou on all of these years.

nonetheless, he’s never been the best at comforting people but a selfish warmth that burns brighter than his quirk spans throughout katsuki’s body whenever you seek comfort in him. even if all it does is chip away at his soul, knowing that you’re all torn up about someone else and someone that isn’t him yet again.

katsuki abandons the tea completely.

however, his cherry lips continue to open and close in search of words and phrases that may sedate your storm of emotions before they rain down on him — just like the world outside. they’re hard to come by, meaningful ones at least, so katsuki settles with a simple… “you deserve better.”

“yeah? well it doesn’t seem like it. every guy i’ve ever met has hurt me some way, somehow.” you quip blandly, obliviously. “who does better even look like?

me. is what bakugou wants to say. he looks like me. but now isn’t the time or place to tell you that, it’s never been. deep down, he knows that you might never see him that way, as a someone who could treat you right, as someone deserving of your darkest desires and sweet nothings, as someone who could be the very person you deserve to grow old with. you don’t look at him the same way, to you, katsuki will always be your best friend and source of comfort.

he’ll never be a lover or a special one or a boyfriend.

not to you.

never to you.

and sadly, he almost feels content to stay this way — if it means he’ll be able to have you near. with the two of you tucked away in one another’s arms, swaying to the melody of harmonious wind and rain, the abrasive, corroding nature of katsuki bakugou is tamed and the world comes to a standstill that feels sort of homely. its familiar, a routine he’s so easily settled into time and time again. confessing to you would be like disrupting the natural course of your relationship and bakugou has seen what you do to guys who cross your limits or suddenly no longer entertain you. sometimes they genuinely do hurt you, other times you’re like a little girl who no longer has a desire to play with her favourite toy — easily casting them aside. the blonde would hate to be one of them, to be thrown out by the person he loves most.

“you’ll find someone,” he says gruffly, after some time.

pulling away slightly and with a hand centre stage on katsuki’s ooey-gooey lovesick chest, you smile ever so gently. and it’s enough for him, even though it burns, it’s enough to make it worth it. all this suffering in silence, loving you from afar…that is, until he hears what you have to to say next.

“i wish i could find someone like you, kats.”

the rain outside has hit its peak, bordering on the edge of torrential as it drowns the concrete jungle outside and the grey clouds it pours from shroud the city in a similar darkness to the veil falling over katsuki’s mind. now that, it really pisses his off. someone like him? why not him? he doesn’t understand why you actively put yourself through the ringer when what you want is right before your very eyes.

like a sudden clap of thunder or a strike of bright lightning, katsuki has a realisation. he isn’t so sure how much more of this he can stomach or take. a few weeks ago his best friend, kirishima, had scolded him long and hard for allowing you to walk all over the explosive pro hero. maybe the redhead had been right, your words seem almost purposeful and calculated — designed to hit him right where it hurts. whether or not you’re aware of the fact.

“y’can’t keep doing this.” comes the blonde’s whisper, coasting just under his breath, so low that you almost miss it underneath the howling notes of the wind.

“what?”

“please stop doing this.” bakugou says again, but firmer, shrugging your hands from his well-built torso like they’ve given him an electric shock. a flash of hurt lines itself across your beautifully crafted features like a film of dust clinging to a marble carved sculpture belonging to an art museum. he hates it, how he can still admire you and treasure you even when you torture him with a punishment of unrequited love. “you can’t keep comin’ here every time you get your heart broken, knowing how i feel about you. it’s fucked up, you’re fucking me up.”

people have only ever dreamed of being able to bring the great dynamight down to his knees. a man of such power and force could never be shaken, especially with everything that he’s been through to get where he is today.

the colour in your voice pales, the glint to your eyes dulls and you nervously reach out for your best friend only to be rejected which hurts more than any shitty break up you’ve ever had. “k-katsuki…kats, what are you talking about?”

“you know exactly what i mean. don’t try to gaslight me or some shit.” katsuki puts it simply, fighting the lump in his throat that nearly stops him from being truthful. it’s always been a difficult task to push you away, “we play pretend, you come to me expectin’ me to lick your wounds ‘n shit. fuck, i’ve been doing it for the last ten years. since todoroki first rejected you in high school, then that guy from class 1B and then shindou from that other school once we went pro.”

he rambles relentlessly and you take every word while memories of each heartbreak flash brightly before your very eyes. it’s clear to you now, standing in front of him, that bakugou has been holding this, whatever this is, inside for far too long. concealing his emotions until his fuse was at its end and it all exploded to the surface. “katsuki stop it.” you say weakly, throat dry.

“fuck no! why should i?” the brash blonde spits venomously, his upper lip curling into an ugly sneer. one you’ve only ever seen when he’s talking to villains, or better yet, talking about your exes. “because it never stopped for me. you never stopped using me.” he blabs, but he’s hardly shouting — the mere fact that he isn’t freaks you out even more. “it’s so fucked up, i’ve been waiting for a chance with you for years. i never said yes to someone fuckin’ loving me for who i am. for all the shit that i come with because i was waitin’ for you.” for nearly a decade you’ve been offering katsuki all the riches in the world, only to pry them from his warmth fingers and leave him for cold and death.

you could apologise right then and there, make things right, tell katsuki that it was him all along and those other guys meant nothing to you. it’s what he wants so badly, it’s the only thing that could make him forget all of this drama and take you back into his arms. instead, you retreat like a hermit crab back into its shell, stepping back and away from your best friend while selfishly curling in on yourself.

“i didn’t… i didn’t ask you to wait.”

those words are like a lightening strike to the chest. the white flashbang outside illuminates your face for katsuki to see, guilt outlines the natural slopes and continue of your face and some kind of regret floods the black ink on your eyes. bakugou’s suspicions have been proven true. you’ve never wanted him, not in the way that he’s wanted you. it must be that. must be that you kept him around knowing he’d chase shooting stars and run to the end of a rainbow if it meant the prize was you.

“you didn’t have to,” katsuki’s breathing turns ragged, mimicking the uncontrollable winds of a brewing storm, and his anxiety peaks, spilling over the edge of a glass he’d tried to keep half full for so long. he knew this, all along, he knew that you’d reject him plain and simple but why does it feel like his world is ending. “would have done it anyways ‘cause i am…was… in love with you. you didn’t need to ask me because you knew i'd always be there.”

it hurts, the truth, it burns like acid rain dissolving through a manmade structure. you hate the taste of it in the air, as katsuki’s words ring through it — undermining the heavy rain pelting down against his roof. you don’t know what to say or tell him, but instead of the contentedness of being close to the blonde you now feel a sudden sense of impending doom. an epiphany. a realisation that you’re going to lose your best friend because you took advantage of a bleeding heart.

you’ve never been the only one whose organs were ripped out and ever-loving corpse was left for dead. each time pieces of you died at every soul-crushing rejecting you’ve ever faced — katsuki has been right behind you, falling to pieces, decomposing, breaking apart… watching you mourn a relationship with someone else.

someone that wasn’t him.

words and apologies tangle in your throat and form a knot that blocks their passage. what do you even say to someone who has inadvertently confessed their love for you — something in which you’re not sure you even believe in anymore? “i-i’m… i’m sorry,” slowly, you take a step forward, blindly reaching out for katsuki in his living room shrouded by darkness and only temporarily lit up my lightening crashes. but he steps back, he retreats into a person he used to be — one that was nasty and cruel despite how much he cared.

bearing his fangs, katsuki defends himself from the only person who could truly ever hurt him. you. his walls build up and he snarls again. “i don’t care.” though, his voice wobbles and his eyes are glossy under the harsh white light of the lightening by strikes outside — he remains defensive.

“i’m sorry,” you sullenly repeat. for what? not loving him? for using him? you’re not sure. “katsuki…i’m sorry—“

you sound so genuine, your voice so sweet and sorrowful — it’s almost enough to make the man melt, for his walls to fall away and his heart to open back up just for you. but bakugou knows better, if gives in and steps closer and holds you once more — the cycle will repeat. you’ll know that you can come to him whenever you want, and take advantage of his pathetic yearning and devotion to you. over and over again, for as long as you want. because if you call he’ll answer, always.

not this time though.

katsuki bakugou steels himself as though he’s facing his greatest foe, his jaw hardens, his ruby red eyes flutter shut and his head shakes and he tries so hard to resist you. when he finally looks at you again, after what feels like an eternity, you’re hopeful in thinking that maybe this can be fixed and you can keep your best friend. however, you’ve seen katsuki’s expression on a dozen other faces before.

that look people give you when they tell you it’s over, when they grow tired of you, when they leave you.

you know it all too well, the face of someone breaking up with you.

except this time you’re not losing a half baked love, this time you’re losing someone who adored every part of you even if it was severely flawed.

you’re losing your best friend. your katsuki.

and all it took was the clouds parting and the heavens crying for you to realise that.

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renshengs · 15 hours

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beyond evil (2021) occupies a very interesting space in the larger expanse of crime shows. like, it is a Cop Show. it is undeniably a Cop Show even if the two main characters, who are both cops for very different reasons, are handled with significantly greater awareness and intention than usual.

it is also, impressively, a show that pierces the real ugly rot of 1) police corruption and its overlap with capitalism 2) atrocious real-life lawmaking 3) the poor handling of femicide in stories. i cannot express how abruptly shocked i was to discover that i did not hate the way this show was carrying itself, despite its crime drama genre, narrative about two homoerotic cops, and its murder mystery premise featuring a plot about a serial killer with solely female victims. here is a story that understands its purpose and is so clear-eyed about it that i did in fact tentatively suspend all my wariness about Cop Shows to watch it—and what i got was a scathing response to every serial killer and true crime documentary out there. a narrative that said: enough. enough. look at the way grief rots people from the inside out. look at the way loss ruins lives. do not forget the sufferings of the innocent.

far too many crime dramas possess an incredibly dehumanizing analytical tone to them that goes, “what if these poor women died in brutal gruesome tragic ways? anyway, look at these men and their heroic journey for justice!” it’s why i can’t fucking stand to watch them for the sake of my blood pressure. while beyond evil is not exempt from using such gruesomeness as a part of its horror aspect, the women in this show, particularly the women who were murdered, occupy such a heavy weight over the narrative that it is impossible to reduce them to what they’re usually reduced to: numbers in files, or cold cases. and because the purpose of beyond evil is to examine the ways grief and loss bring about destruction to people’s lives and communities, these women cannot be seen as numbers. they need to be vivid and real; the audience needs to feel their loss as deeply and gnawingly as the townspeople do. as we would in real life.

personally i’m still surprised at myself for liking a Cop Show this much—because the law enforcement sympathy is unavoidable in a cop show—but then i’m also shocked at how immediately this show establishes its awareness of police power. i don’t mean it gives a passing nod, like a brief disclaimer. i mean that you watch until the end and you’re like: oh! the entire fucking show is about police power and its consequences! this entire goddamn show is about cops’ potential for harm and how it destroys lives! the main character only ever became a cop out of desperation because he realized it would protect him from suffering further at the hands of the police. because he realized it was the only way for him to get access to both the information and the legal power needed to take his own steps to solve his sister’s murder. it’s not radical—it’s a cop show. but it is novel. a cop whose relationship with his own occupation is bitterly resigned at best and traumatic at worst.

this is far from an original thought, but truly i think what makes beyond evil worth watching is that it is so incredibly careful with itself. its meta awareness of its own genre heightens it to a tier above other crime dramas—it knows and rejects voyeuristic perspectives into the lives of people who’ve suffered real loss and tragedy, and so it makes the loss inescapable. every direction you look, someone’s life has been irrevocably altered by the murders you learn about in the story. it gives you no space to push away the murder—no, you need to sit directly in its field of impact. all the fucking time. you are not watching the town suffer, you’re suffering with the town. the story sucks you in and makes you live alongside the rest of them; it's why the first watch hurts so raw. because the story refuses to let you take a true-crime approach. because it refuses to prioritize the narratives of perpetrators over human lives. you are there, and you are hurting.

man. really, if you're going to watch anything, watch this.

#really the homoeroticism is a bonus. but it's also not so much a bonus because it's not half-assed #the show does not run on its homoeroticism bc that is not what it wants to do. but the show DOES emphasize the degree #to which these two men mean something to each other. emotionally and thematically. their relationship development is woven in beautifully #beyond evil #kdrama #lee dongsik #han juwon #sheng says stuff

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eloquent-edits · 2 days

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AAAAA DO YOU HAVE MORE FWB PROMPTS THAT SEVERELY TOW THE LINE OF A AND B BEING IN LOVE 😭🩷??

BOY DO I HAHA

🗡️ How can I be friends with this thing called love?

you don’t love me, let me hold you again 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

Character A and Character B carpool to events together and usually they take that time to rile each other up, but it’s shifting to deeper, more vulnerable conversations

A, known for hardly ever dressing up, decides to throw B for a loop and go full out for one of their sessions (B has to bite their tongue on telling A they’re beautiful)

B is an absolute sucker for head scratches and A knows this, so they take every chance they can to give that to B

A brings a slice of cake from a family event over to B’s place out of love kindness, and apparently it is B’s favorite flavor (A stows this knowledge away and brings B that cake whenever possible)

“You know, my parents commented that I seem a lot more relaxed and happy around you.” “Seems like I just have that effect on people.”

A is very careful about what’s allowed to be said in bed, but B slips up once and it hits A like a TRUCK oh my gods they want to hear that again and again and again

A takes B out to a park at midnight to spar and they end up sprawled in the grass, laughing and holding each other close while watching the stars above

B sheepishly admits that they sometimes want to save A’s pictures—but not the spicy or sexy ones, just the everyday casual ones!

B pops into the background of A’s call ONCE and later, Character C asks if that’s A’s new partner (this is legitimately what happened to me LMAO)

Both are accident-prone, so a lot of time is spent tending to wounds and ensuring the other person is not in pain

A originally had a boundary of not kissing B goodnight for their emotional sanity, but they accidentally did it once and keep meaning to stop but they dON’T

“Your kisses are so sweet,” B murmurs as A’s lips trace and press against their skin.

Character C, one of B’s best friends, hangs out with A and B twice and comments that they are cute together

^ Both blush and A pulls slightly away from B while B jokes about how terrible it is to have A around with a big grin on their face

^^ As B makes some new friends, C mentions how A is exactly what B’s been looking for over the years

Historically, A didn’t want to sleep over at a FWB’s place to keep feelings from developing, but it’s so easy for them to fall asleep next to B

^ The first time this happened, A and B woke up well-rested and tangled up in each other (which is a miracle because both of them have problems with sleep)

During the Christmas season, A’s family puts up mistletoe over the main entryway. While no one is looking, A hesitantly, carefully pulls B into a kiss under it.

A and B gravitate towards each other even across a big room full of other people, somehow knowing when the other’s gaze is on them

A has a photo collection on their fridge of their favorite moments and over time more and more photos of B are put up

“Oh how were things going with C? You seemed interested in them.” “Eh, they’re cool but we didn’t really click. The banter wasn’t as… good, y’know?” “Damn! Well, if they can’t banter then they’re not the right person for you.”

B doesn’t listen to many song recommendations from friends but goes out of their way to listen to what A suggests (“That was the worst song I’ve ever listened to, that was SO CURSED.”)

After A and B finish belting a song together, A admits that singing songs together is sort of like a love language for them

While weaving through a crowd, A takes B’s hand to keep them close (and totally doesn’t forget to let go until much, much later)

B pulls away as A tries to kiss them deeper, more passionately. Thumb caressing their cheek, B whispers, “I want to take this slow. I… want to remember this moment.”

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ceruleanthiing · 8 hours

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Thinking about Nya and Wu… in early seasons whenever the other ninja were doing some shit, Nya and Wu would usually be off doing something else together or stay behind from things together. Thinking abt all the time they’d have to just talk or run errands or spend time together. I feel like I don’t see it talked about enough how close they probably were… from the fucking beginning like before she was a ninja he has cared for her and trained her and kept her secrets and had faith in her and been proud of her. Of all the characters i see ppl talking abt Nya having a parental relationship with i almost never see Wu mentioned. Not that he doesn’t mean anything to the other ninja or whatever either but like this ain’t about them this is about Nya i love you Nya and I cannot stop thinking about how she was one of the first Wu called out to when the ninja got home from the never realm or about how his voice broke at her memorial service at the end of seabound i just. She means so much to him. And he must mean so much to her. All the reassurance and encouragement she’s gotten from him from the start, I can’t even imagine how it must have felt to see Lloyd again post merge and learn that no master Wu isn’t just missing he’s dead. I feel like she is hesitant to lean on older adults or let anyone parent her (again looks at seabound) because she n Kai had to grow up with a solid “no one is going to help me but me” mindset and I feel like the all the progress she and Wu built up over the years woulda allowed her to trust that an older adult can be there for her and now it’s all come apart and she didn’t even get to say goodbye all she gets is whispers from a glowing ghost beckoning her for a moment. A moment all too short

#I’m ill. I’m ill. I’m ill. I’m ill. I’m ill. I’m ill. don’t lookat me #halcyonia #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago nya #Nya smith #nya jiang

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 hours

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A Guiding Hand 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won't let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: surprise double chapters!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You lay in the dim glow of your laptop, the screen saver swooshing back and forth, giving light to the dark. You’re limned it its idleness, in a similarly inert state. You blink, eyes dry and raw, your head pounding. Your back and shoulder pang with your inactivity as you lay on your stomach, neck twisted to one side.

Your vision is static and fuzzy, the air humming. You groan and drag an arm up, the effort alone like lifting a boulder. The world is distant and desolate. There is nothing beyond those four walls.

A chime comes from your laptop. You stare at the curtain, darkness along the borders. It’s night time already. Or again. You don’t know. You lost count of the hours, rather, days.

You roll over and peer at the abyss above. The ceiling is similarly shrouded in shadows, the corners clustered with darkness. Your head spins at the effort of your movement. Your tongue is starchy and sticky from neglect. You cough and sit up, nearly falling back against your pillow.

You don’t want to be awake. It’s so much easier to sleep. Nothing makes sense in your dreams but everything is awful in real life.

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and reach for the plastic cup of stagnant water. You sip from the brim and a slam brings you back into focus. Your hand shakes and you clack the cup back on the table, turning to watch the wall as chaos erupts on the other side.

“Goddamn, Irene, get off of me. I ain’t tellin’ ya again,” the holler rolls through like thunder. “Fuckin’ skank.”

Your eyes round as your ears ring. You cover them and back up to cower against the headboard. Your lip trembles as you hear a crash followed by the shatter of glass.

“We were having fun, sweetheart,” your mother’s desperate yawl comes over the patter of her feet, “don’t go so soon, please, baby.”

“Why you actin’ like a goddamn whore?” The man snarls and you hear your mother whimper. You sniffle as you fold yourself up and push your chin down against your knee, shielding your head as if it’s you taking the blow.

“I--” your mother snivels, “I just wanna love you, hon.”

You close your eyes. Lee huffs and stomps past your door, his shadow flickering beneath. He’s just another in a line of men your mother brings around; each one as angry as the last. It always starts the same; at first, they’re nice, then you hear how they change.

“I’m too damn tired and it’s too damn late. I’ll be back when you get your head screwed on,” he retorts and hits the wall, making you jump again as the springs of your bed squeak. “And you’re a goddamn mother... should know better...”

You crouch in fear, locked up as you listen through the wall. You hear him moving around as your mother begs him to stay. You press your hands to your ears so you can’t make out her words. The front door of the apartment snaps shut and quaver out a breath.

You wait until you hear your mother retreat, herself crying, and the clink of a glass comes shortly after. You wipe your face and lift your head slowly. You won’t be able to sleep, not with your heart racing like this.

It takes all your strength to crawl across the bed and put your feet to the floor. Your stench clings to your unwashed clothes. You haven’t changed in a couple days at least. You can barely remember the last time you left your room.

You sit down in front of your computer. The metal seat of the folding chair is hard and cold, even through your pants. You squiggle your fingers over the touchpad of the outdated laptop, as thick as a book.

The screen wakes up and you key in your passcode with one finger. The wallpaper comes up, the colours stinging your eyes, and you squint as you adjust to the glare. You tap on the envelope icon to open your inbox.

At least a dozen unread emails clutter the folder. Reminders and notifications automated by your obligations and inactivity. You scroll through and delete the messages telling you to submit your assignment and noting several missed tests. At the very top, the latest of the bunch, is from a person.

Your heart sinks as you see the name and the subject line. Professor Raymond Smith, Attn: Overdue Work. God. You clutch your head and your eyes tinge once more. You don’t have enough moisture to summon any more tears. Your head pulses and your eyes itch but you can’t cry.

You shudder and make yourself look at the screen. You hover your hand over the mousepad and make yourself tap. Just one quick touch and the message opens.

The professor greets you by name. You want to dissolve into nothing. It’s easy to just be a student number on a screen but now he picks you out of the bunch and you know exactly why. You haven’t logged into the learning site in a week or more. You haven’t been able to make yourself.

‘It has come to my notice that your last tasks have gone unsubmitted. As your instructor, I am obligated to check in to see whether I can expect these assignments to be submitted for grading. As well, I would offer any support necessary for you to do so.

Please respond to this email at your convenience so we might rectify this situation. You may also schedule a meeting through my calendar linked in my signature.

Best Regards,

Professor Smith’

You cringe. How do you explain to him that this always happens? That you’re just a failure?

This was supposed to be different, but just like everything, you blew it. You thought that you could make this work. You remember the day you got your acceptance; the program is manageable and you can do it all online. You thought you were getting better but your mom stopped refilling your script and you stopped caring.

You sit, blindly staring at the screen. For an hour, maybe more, caught between shame and sadness. You can’t just run away from another thing. You take a breath and raise your hands over the keyboard. It’s just letters on a screen.

Dear Pro

Hello Professor

I apologize for not submitting my work. I will not be able to complete this course due to mental health personal reasons.

Thank you.

You read and re-read. You guess it’s good enough? You don’t know. Whatever. Just another poor excuse.

You hit send and you peek at the time. You look at the original email. It’s a bit strange the instructor would email that late. You delete the email and go back to bed, hiding under the blanket. Typical, just another stupid idea.

📓

Your head throbs as you wake up. You’ve slept too much. Nothing different than usual but you haven’t left bed for more than a couple minutes at a time. Your skull feels ready to cave in and swells with each movement.

You get up, stumbling as you find your bearings, shuffling to your door and into the hall. You go into the bathroom. It’s a mess, like usual. Your mother’s clothes are on the floor and a man’s razor is on the edge of the sink. Is he here again?

You relieve yourself and flush, washing your hands then your face. You should probably shower while you’re in there. You lift your arm and confirm the need. You stink and your clothes are damp with your sweat.

You undress and crank on the faucet. You step into the grimy booth behind the counter as the water splashes down cold and slowly warms in the whining pipes. You shiver and let it cleanse you as much as it can.

You squeeze out some of the discount soap that smells like a hospital and scrub yourself as the air steams around you. You hear an odd creak then the plastic of the toilet seat hitting the porcelain tank. What the heck?

You grab the edge of the curtain and peek around it, smearing lather along the plastic. It’s opaque enough to blue your silhouette but not completely hide you. That man, Lee, belches as he holds his dick and pisses. He looks over and smirks.

“Ah, sorry, darling, didn’t know you were in here,” he chuckles and turns straight, leaning to brace the wall as he sighs, “goddamn, my balls are tight.”

You pop back behind the curtain and grimace. Ew. It’s not the first time you’ve had an awkward run in with one of your mother’s suitors, for lack of a better term, but no less jarring than any other. You shut off the water and back up, reaching past the other end of the curtain to grab the towel.

Something closes around your wrist and has you yelping. You cling to the curtain, staying behind it as Lee tugs on you.

“Don’t needa be shy, darlin’,” he tries to drag you out, “doubt it’s much different than your mama.”

You try to yank back but he’s too strong. You slip and barely save yourself as you grab onto the towel bar. You cry out, “let go! Please!”

He squeezes and you wince, pressed against the curtain as your knees buckle. Your soles are slippery on the wet tile. You whine and whimper, heart pounding in your chest.

There’s a knock at the door and he lets you go. You quickly pull free the towel and hide in the shower to wrap your body in it. You don’t think it’s clean.

“Everything okay?” The door groans with your mother’s entry.

“Ah, I’m just tryna piss and your daughter’s making all sorts of fuss,” he scoffs and flushes the toilet, “like she ain’t never seen a real man before.”

“Oh, Lee, you shoulda let her finish--”

“What’s the big deal, she was in the shower,” he deflects, “you know I ain’t her for that brat.”

You pant and lean against the wall, veins coursing with adrenaline. Your mother grumbles as they leave. You feel the draught of the open door and warily sidle out from behind the curtain. You gather your clothes and check that the coast is clear and find your way back to your room.

You pull on a fresh hoodie and your least dirty pair of sweats. You need to do laundry desperately. You need to do a lot of things. Your computer bings as if to agree with that sentiment.

You sit down at the table and stare at your laptop. The folding plastic thing has barely enough room for that and your notebook. You sigh. All you do is sigh. Everything is just a disappointment. You have nothing but trash around you and you fit right in.

You open the lid and login. You could watch that play through of the new fantasy game you can’t afford. Or you just break that damn thing. You have an email.

You don’t click on it right away. Instead, you scroll through a subreddit on an obscure television show you streamed on Youtube. All the posts are years old and the place is dead. If you’re good at anything, it’s avoidance.

Finally, your anxiety knots tight enough for you to do something. You close your browser and open Outlook. You make a strange noise as you see the response to the email you sent days ago. Or by your estimation. You scratch your neck until the skin burns.

You work at deleting the spam from your inbox before you’re forced to face the Re:

You click and read with trepidation. Again, the professor addresses you by name.

‘I understand that you are dealing with personal obligations. Considering how far we are in this course, I would like to allow you the opportunity to complete it successfully. If the current workload is too much, we can discuss alternatives to meet the learning objectives.

I would prefer that we have this conversation face-to-face. If you would like explore your options, please use the link below to meet with me on Tuesday at noon. Please confirm here and I look forward to meeting and speaking with you then.

Also let me know if I can do anything else.

Professor Smith’

You want to melt into nothing. You want to evaporate from existence. You want to just keel over and die. How embarrassing!

You want to delete it a forget. You want to say now and through everything away. You want to go back to how you’ve always been. You want to be a slug in the dirt. You want to stop hoping because it only ever ends like this.

But you can’t. You hit the trash button but then you can’t help but stretch your fingertips between CTRL and Z. The message reappears and you read it again and again and again. It feels like this is the moment. This is the big decision you make; is your life always going to be like this or are you going to try?

You hit reply.

‘Thank you, Professor Smith. I will meet you on Tuesday. I appreciate your understanding and I will do better.’

Your eyes blur as you move the cursor over the little arrow. You take a breath and tap your fingertips. That’s that, then.

#raymond smith #a guiding hand #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #professor au #the gentlemen #raymond smith x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

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crazylittlejester · 6 hours

Note

honestly, the fandom dismisses wars trauma a little too much. Have you noticed it’s always never brought up in his character studies? And when it is, it’s totally brushed off him and cia had a WEIRDDD age gap. It’s also weird hyrule warriors never acknowledges this. I honestly don’t think it’s gonna be recognized in LU but idk. It’s just weird how quickly the fandom brushed over all that. What’s your opinion? Cuz you have cool opinions lol

Disclaimer: Everything you’re about to read is my opinion and my interpretation of a game. I’m not talking about headcanons (unless otherwise specified), I’m just talking about my experience with the game and everything else. All of this is from MY perspective interacting with the canon material from both Hyrule Warriors and Linked Universe. Also! I am dyslexic, my bad for oddly autocorrected words or weird spelling mistakes

A huge reason I started yapping so much on this blog was because I saw a lot of people either actively disliking Wars, making fucking INSANE comments about his body, overly sexualizing him, or just straight up dismissing him all together and it helped me get over my posting anxiety because it genuinely made me so upset. He’s been my favorite character since only a few posts into LU (i originally liked Twilight better based sheerly on design but it took like only a few posts before that changed), and I love HW Link in general, and I thought it was actually crazy that more people didn’t like him. I’ve written several of my own characters studies on him, some of which I’ve posted, others lay trapped in my old laptop in the form of a full on analysis paper, never to see the light of day

You can send a full grown man to war and he will come back with trauma, imagine what happens when you grab some poor teenager and tell him everything relies on him. Literally forget Cia for a minute, Link as a teenager was taken and shoved into a full on war where his men turned on him and in order to survive, he had to kill. Monsters and hylians alike, it was him or them, and he’s the one who made it out. Not to mention he was constantly running all over the battle field trying to prevent the hylian captains from being defeated, and he most certainly lost many people he cared about just because he couldn’t get there in time. He had to carry around the guilt that this war was started because some sorceress was obsessed with him ON TOP of that

This was said earlier by an anon on a post I reblogged, and I’ve been saying it myself for months but I will say it again: If Warriors had been a girl and been obsessed over that same way, I fucking GUARANTEE you people would be taking it more seriously

I literally just typed in the character name and the game she’s from and that is what google had to say about her. If an older man was described as ‘harboring serious affections’ and having a ‘desire to claim’ a teenage girl I literally don’t think it would’ve been glossed over or ignored like it is

I don’t think nintendo was ever gonna elaborate or really recognize it in the game, they never go super in depth on anything in Zelda games from my experience, and I doubt Jojo will really get into it in LU mainly just because she has so much going on with eight other dudes and potentially two more (based on the header on the linked universe blog)

I saw a lot of characterizations of Warriors and opinions of him that made me so confused and also a bit mad, such that he is a womanizer or a stupid twink (of which he is neither), and that’s a huge reason I started writing fanfiction for this fandom. Firstly to just create more content for my favorite character because I rarely saw any that focused on him, and secondly because I didn’t like some (NOT ALL) of how I was seeing him characterized. (i cannot emphasize enough: NOT ALL people in the fandom characterized him this way, I saw plenty of amazing and beautiful characterizations of Warriors)

I do not think he is a womanizer at all, in fact I fully believe his flirtatious behavior is a defense mechanism. I think his ‘woman problems’ are the fact that he’s afraid of women (especially older women) he doesn’t know or trust, but also that’s just my opinion. And I am genuinely a bit worried that now that people have stopped talking about how they noticed he seemed off a few updates ago and now that they’re saying he’s back to normal that people are going to start reducing him to a stupid dramatic twink again, as if Warriors was not the one who came up with the initial plan to fight Dink and was not the first one to fight him. As if this is not a man who lead a god damn army. As if everything he’s done and everything he is no longer matters because he’s ‘pretty’

anyways I have a lot of thoughts about him in general and im just glad the fandom has been treating him better as of late, but i am a bit worried it’s just gonna go back to how it was

thanks for the ask!! sorry i got a bit carried away 😭

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu character analysis #hyrule warriors link #lu warriors #lu wars #lu warriors analysis #jes talks #jes ask

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thecommunalfoolboy · 3 hours

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It’s crazy how many people just don’t understand why a lot of aro and or ace people don’t like that Alaster gets shipped. It’s not that hard to understand we don’t have a lot to let ourselves lose. I mean can you name 10 asexual characters? 5? Can you name two aro characters. There’s the guy from Archie who they made have a sex scene in a movie version. There’s a few books. I think a background character in Heartstopper? Do you see the theme here??? You’re all queer people, do you not get it? How it feels to have nothing? Is it so wrong to be upset that there’s finally an outwardly aroace person in popular media and instead of people embracing that they’re fighting on the internet about why it’s ok to ignore it? And I will never in my fucking life have anything against the people who are aro and or ace and portray him in THEIR experiences, even if it is a romance or sex favorable experience, but it is obvious that way too many of you guys are allo and it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t even like him as a character that much, he isn’t even made by an aroace artist. The show isn’t even that fucking good, I just want to keep someone like me for once in my life. If there were a million other aroace characters I wouldn’t care, but it just hurts seeing erasure coming from my own community. It just sucks, man, I don’t know. It just sucks

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cursedvida · 22 hours

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I genuinely don’t get the reaction towards noamae. Do people think we’re out here shipping real human beings with real monkeys in real life?!

Is it so shocking to believe that a talking, genetically-altered ape who rides horses and tames eagles, who possesses rational thought and repairs wepaons could be potentially capable of developing complicated feelings for a girl from an underground bunker who lives in a post-apocalyptic world with other people escaping a virus that devolves them and was on a mission to get a chip to communicate with other people in space using 300 year old satellites and who managed to complete her mission with the help of said ape???

Have these people consumed fiction before?? Make believe worlds??? Unlikely pairings??? Fantastical ideas??? Whimsical illusions??!?

And then they call them animals…umm, isn’t the whole premise of the films about them not being just animals??? Isnt it a reality set WITHIN the universe of the films that they’re not just animals???

I’m lost 😵‍💫

As I said before, I don't care if people like the same things as me or not, or if they share my perspective on things. If they have an issue with those of us who see chemistry between the TWO FICTIONAL MAIN CHARACTERS of a movie, who are rational, thinking beings perfectly aware of their actions and with full decision-making capacity, then the problem is not mine, it's theirs. Basically because I'm not out there hating on people, I don't have that much free time lol

Anyway, it doesn't matter. I believe there's palpable chemistry, you can see it as romantic or platonic, but denying the obvious seems absurd to me, especially when it's confirmed that it's not just Noa's story, but the story of both, and that the initial idea has always been for their relationship (of whatever kind) to become one of the main axes of the new saga.

However, most of the people I've seen hating (and I mean hate, not just not liking the ship, which is totally legitimate) in the end are basically Mae haters, and their arguments, to me, have a background that rings too much of internalized misogyny for me to take them very seriously, but ok.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #kotpota mae #kotpota noa #mae x noa #nomae #mae #noa #shipping

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jacquesthepigeon · 3 days

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Yeah I know nothing about the crew either, and I don’t want to speak on them as people because clearly I don’t know them. But I think whether they’re drawing from irl experience or not, the message they’re sending with Chloe vs Andre & the other bad parents is very harmful. “Parents aren’t to blame for their children’s actions” only counts if those people are fully adults. Because society influences you and you cannot control your son’s life once he’s twenty or even thirty. he still might end up a bad person even if you raised him well. Chloe? She’s 14. Take away her iphone and she’s literally harmless. Can’t do shit without money and daddy backing you up. “Daddy, I want—” / “No.” The end. Sending your kid to your neglectful and abusive ex wife (no it doesn’t justify Chloe’s billing, yes Audrey is still abusive) makes you a piece of shit. The show tells you “no but you don’t get it he only got into politics to impress Audrey uwu” lol?? he still abused his power. It’s literally a crime. The show addressed the issue with the same logic they did the senti thing, which is to say: none. They established Andre as X and not only contradicted that, but his “redemption” is basically him ignoring the consequence of his own actions and starting from scratch as if nothing ever happened. Which is the same thing they did with Gabriel and Jagged. The show sells the willingness to change as the key to one’s redemption but that’s BS to me. Sure, it’s the first step, but the consequences of your bad actions don’t go away and you have to actually face them. In ML they’re just swept under the rug and expected to be forgotten.

This show loves bad dads so much it’s ridiculous I swear it’s like it became their priority to defend them over empathizing with any of the kids in S4-S5

I can’t help but compare it to SU where one of the characters thought he was bonding with his deadbeat dad but found out he was simply being taken advantage of and finally cuts the deadbeat out of his life (an option not many have, but cutting someone off emotionally is still doable I suppose). That is what caring about your young audience looks like.

#anon #ask

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deedeeznoots · 3 days

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We’re Not Mothers!

Part of the “We’re Not Heroes!” Collection

Characters: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Masamichi Yaga, [+ Another character but who is a surprise!]

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst

Content Warnings: Swearing, Hospital

A/N: Happy Mothers Day, everyone! I hope you enjoy this special addition to “We’re Not Heroes” and I hope it serves as a reminder to appreciate those who played a role in caring for us, whether they be our mothers or another figure in our lives ❤️

Synopsis: The first-years have a mission directly from their Principal! Their orders are as follows: give as many flowers to as many mothers as they can throughout Tokyo before the sun goes down. Sounds easy enough, right? Unfortunately for the first-years though, this proves to be a much more difficult mission than it seems!

“Wow! Principal Yaga wants to meet us! I wonder what for?” Itadori asks as he walks with his two friends to the office.

“I just hope it isn’t for something like cleaning up one of Gojo-sensei’s messes again, that was such a bother last time” Kugisaki answers.

The three sorcerers make their way to Yaga’s office. Sliding the door open, they’re greeted to what looks to be hundreds of flower bouquets throughout the room, with their principal in the middle of it all. “Holy shit!” Kugisaki yells out, catching the principal’s attention “Oh, hey kids”, Yaga turns around to face them. Along with him, there are various cursed corpses walking around carrying the flowers into a large cart.

“What’s all this for?” Itadori asks Yaga as a cursed corpse seemingly offers Itadori a flower. Just as he’s about to accept the offer, the mischievous cursed corpse punches him in the face instead. “Ow!” Itadori yells out, falling backward as the moving stuffed animal laughs at its victory. Man these things really are evil, the boy thinks.

“I need you three to hand out these flowers to as many mothers you can find throughout Tokyo” Yaga explains to the children.

“You know, homewrecking isn’t a good trait Principal Yaga” Kugisaki jokes, causing the usually stoic Fushiguro to chuckle.

“It’s not like that and you know it!” Yaga clears his throat, “I usually have Panda do this, but he’s on a mission with the other second-years today so I’m counting on you three”.

“Uh… yeah… but again, why are we giving random moms flowers today?” Kugisaki asks, placing her hands on her hips.

As Yaga is about to respond, Fushiguro cuts him off “It’s one of those things that help to lower cursed energy in the long run,” he continues “If we’re able to bring up the spirits of a large amount of people, even with small random acts of kindness like this one, we can help to lower the likelihood of cursed energy leaking in the long run”.

“Yes, that’s correct Fushiguro” their Principal nods in approval.

“Oh I get it!” Itadori exclaims, now off the floor. “Uh… but why today all of a sudden? And why only mothers?” he scratches his head in confusion.

“Itadori…” the older sorcerer pauses, trying to choose his words carefully, “Don’t you know what day it is?”.

Itadori just gives him a blank stare, looking to his friends for answers, but when he gets nothing, he just goes “Uh…no?”.

“It’s Mother’s Day, Idatori,” Megumi says abruptly, “Today is Mothers Day”.

Itadori stands confused until the lightbulb finally goes off in his head “Oh!” he thinks aloud. “Sorry haha… I don’t really celebrate the day, I never met my mom so I never had to think much about it” Itadori laughs awkwardly when Kugisaki joins in “Dude! I haven’t met my mom either!”. When she says this, Itadori’s eyes seem to glow in amazement, “No way! That’s so cool!” the two high-five.

Those two bond over the weirdest things Fushiguro groans in disappointment at his friends.

Clearing his throat again, Yaga yells out “KIDS!”. This brings all of their attention back to the man, “Listen up, I don’t want to see any of you back here until this cart is completely empty, understand?!”.

“Yes, sir!” they respond in unison.

“Well then what are you waiting for!? The clock is ticking!” he yells as cursed corpses push the trio out of the room with the cart of flowers.

“Man, why does every Jujutsu Sorcerer have to be such a weirdo?” Nobara asks, though the question was mostly rhetorical.

They decided to go to the mall. The crowds of people walking around in groups made it the best place to go.

“Yeah…” Itadori responds, “First it was that one bakery mission with Nanamin, and now this” he sighs, “It feels like we haven’t had a normal mission in such a long time”. The two other sorcerers nod and the three simply stand together awkwardly in front of the comically large cart of flowers.

“So… how are we supposed to know who the moms are?” Kugisaki asks.

“It should be pretty obvious…since it’s Mother’s Day most moms would probably be out with their kids” Fushiguro responds, looking around to scout for any families that might be walking around.

“Yeah!” Itadori perks up, “Like those two!” he points toward a young woman with a child sitting together at a bench.

Flower in hand, the young boy walks toward the pair. “You have the cutest kid, miss!” bringing his hand out toward her. Flower in hand, he says in the cheeriest tone, “Happy Mother’s Day!”.

What Itadori expected was for the woman to take the flower and say a simple “thank you”. Hell, if the woman simply rejected the offer, Itadori would have felt a little dejected, but he wouldn’t have minded. Any of those two options were better than what actually happened.

The woman stood there wide-eyed looking at Itadori as if she saw a ghost. Stupidly, Itadori continues gesturing the flower toward her, awkwardly holding it in place and trying to force a smile.

Staring at Itadori, the kid next to the woman begins to speak. “This is my sister”, the child stares blankly at Itadori, “Also she’s sixteen”.

Itadori just stares at the kid, then at the woman (who he now knows is only a year older than him), and a deep red blush forms on his face. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to imply anything!” he attempts to stutter out an apology, but it’s too late. The two awkwardly scurry away from Itadori as he yells out “I’m so sorry again! You don’t look old for your age I swear!”.

The young lady looks more offended at that comment, and the two walk even faster to get away.

There were many witnesses to the embarrassing event, including Itadori’s two accomplices. “So maybe it won’t be so obvious”, Fushiguro tells Kugisaki as Itadori slowly slumps over to them in embarrassment*.

“Whatever, man!” Kugisaki grabs a handful of flowers from the cart, “We need to get all these flowers out of this cart or we’ll end up as punching bags for Yaga’s cursed corpses!”. Running away with the flowers in hand, she yells out “The person that hands out a flower last is a wet rag!” as she runs away to hand out flowers.

“Wait, Kugisaki! You’re dropping a bunch!” Itadori yells out, but she doesn’t hear him over the sounds of her handing (more like forcing) flowers into different people’s hands.

“Man, what the heck” Itadori sighs.

“She’s right, we should get to work before the sun goes down and everyone leaves” Fushiguro grabs some flowers as well, “You can take the cart”.

“Wait, I don’t want the cart! This thing’s heavy!” Itadori yells, but Fushiguro simply ignores him. “Fushiguro!” he yells again, “Fushiguro!”.

Left alone, Itadori mumbles “Jerks” under his breath and goes to push the cart to different parts of the mall. Handing out the flowers actually proved to get easier over time, and many people showed their gratitude through bright smiles or simple “thank you’s”. Itadori still had some embarrassing moments where someone turned out to not be a mom, but it got easier to guess over time through context clues.

A few hours later though, Itadori hears some commotion around the area, “I’m married!” he hears a woman yell out in the distance. Curious, his attention darts to where the drama is, and he’s shocked to find that the woman was actually scolding Fushiguro. “So… do you still want the flowers or…?” he asks the woman, genuinely confused about what she wanted. “Wha– how dare you! After I told you I was married… also you’re too young to be giving flowers away to different wome–”

“Sorry about my friend! We care very much about your marriage and respect it haha!” Itadori yells out as he drags his friend away.

Thanks to Itadori’s superhuman speed, the two are able to quickly run away from the woman and are no longer able to see her in their vision. Panting, Itadori tells Fushiguro next to him, “Man… I really don’t think Yaga considered the fact that a Panda giving away flowers to a bunch of women is way different than three random kids”.

“Yeah…” Fushiguro responds, also out of breath.

“Thinking about it though… how was Panda able to just walk around in public looking like…him” Itadori asks his friend. “Most people probably assumed he was a guy in a Panda costume… but I feel like that’s also weird”. The two friends share a laugh at the absurdity of a walking panda giving away flowers to random women throughout Tokyo.

Itadori and Fushiguro finish up giving away different flowers together and eventually meet back up with Kugisaki. Out of breath, she falls to her knees in front of them before saying “I’m not doing this ever again”. In response, Fushiguro just scoffs and says “Dude, no one told you to rush in giving them away”. “Shut up!” she yells out, and pointing at him she exclaims “I’m not gonna be a wet rag like you two!”.

She’s technically right, as the group now only had two bouquets left, one from Itadori and one from Fushiguro. It was getting late and most of the stores were closing, so there was no longer as many people. Looking around at who to give his to, Itadori’s eyes land on an old woman sitting at a bench. Flowers in hand, Itadori walks over to the elderly woman before he stops and says, “Hi! I’m not sure if you have kids but…” he hands out the flowers to her “Happy Mother’s Day!” he gives her a sweet smile.

The woman simply looks at Itadori and tells him “Why thank you young man! We need more people like you in this world” before taking the flowers. Itadori laughs and yells out “Thanks!” as he walks back to his friends. He turns to Kugisaki, telling her “You know Kugisaki, I’m kind of glad we did this. I know there were some awkward moments, but I think we made a lot of people happy!”. Crossing her arms and smiling, Kugisaki just goes “Yeah yeah whatever, let’s just hand out this last bouquet and go home”.

However, Fushiguro simply looks down and tells them “No…I’ll hand this one out by myself, you guys can go home”.

“Huh? Are you sure? I was joking about the wet rag thing” Kugisaki jokes. Though, Fushiguro simply responds “Yeah… I’m sure, you guys go on ahead, I’ll be back soon” he begins to turn away, “See you guys”.

Itadori and Kugisaki simply look at each other in confusion before Itadori goes “Oh… okay Fushiguro! See you later!” They wave goodbye as they walk in the opposite direction toward their school “I wonder where he’s going” Kugisaki tells Itadori.

…

“Megumi, I'm home!” an eight-year-old Tsumiki Fushiguro yells out to her brother, but she’s simply greeted to an empty house. Regardless, she continues talking anyways, “Thanks to all that money Mr. Gojo gave us, I’m finally able to buy all these different ingredients for new recipes! He’s a little weird but he’s a nice guy” going on her tippy-toes, she places the groceries at the top of the counter.

“Megumi?” she calls out again. Finally, the black-haired boy shows himself, he’s across the hallway. Tsumiki simply stood confused, her brother was quiet, but he wasn’t usually this quiet, “Is there something wrong?”.

In response, the young boy simply takes tiny steps toward her before facing her. He’s still shorter than her at this point, but not by much. Once facing each other, he opens up his hands to show her a tiny piece of chocolate wrapped in foil. “Here…my teacher told us to give it to our moms for Mother’s Day but…” he trails off, the rest didn’t need to be said. So, he just goes “W-whatever, you just have it”. He forces the piece of chocolate in her hands before turning around to try to run away, however Tsumiki is able to catch him in a hug.

Warm tears fall on the tiny Megumi’s shoulder as his sister holds him tight “Hey! What are you crying for?!” he yells out. “I don’t know…” Tsumiki responds. “J-Just…thank you, thank you” words of gratitude are incoherently uttered by Tsumiki as she cries on her little brother’s shoulder. It was such a small gesture from the boy, but to Tsumiki, it meant the world. Megumi simply groans and goes “Hey…don’t be weird about it!” before lightly pushing her away. “Right… right” she goes, wiping her tears away “‘m sorry, haha, I don’t know what came over me!”. The boy in front of her just rolls his eyes and mumbles a “whatever” before walking away to his room.

…

Megumi Fushiguro walks into the hospital room where his sister lay. “Hey Tsumiki” he greets, though there is no response. It was okay though, that was to be expected.

Closing the door, the black-haired boy still carried the bouquet in his hand, “Here… I have some flowers from a mission, I thought you should have ‘em”. He places the flowers on the side table and takes a look at his sister. She simply lays there, still in her coma, not responsive to anything her brother had to say.

“Yeah… well anyways I got something for you,” Megumi brings a chair next to the bed and pulls out a large bag of chocolates “It’s your favorite”.

Still, no response. It wasn’t like he was expecting one, his logical mind was always the dominant one, after all. Yet… he stupidly still held out hope that today might be the day she finally opened her eyes. Though, this was a hope he held on to every day that he visited her.

Opening the bag, he takes out a piece of chocolate covered in foil. Then, he carefully took Tsumiki’s hand in his and placed the tiny piece into her hand before closing it. Tears in his eyes and his hand still intertwined with hers, he chokes out the words he should have said years before, “Happy Mother’s Day, Tsumiki”.

*While this is happening, I imagine Itadori being able to hear Sukuna laughing at him inside his domain!

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split-spike · 15 hours

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Shufts hcs cuz I’m bored and I need to feed shufts nation

- Tufts has a biting problem, she likes to nibble on Shake’s straw and hands

- After their absolutely insane wedding (planned for volume 2) they get divorced and get back together like a million times

- “I hate you” “I hate you too” *disgusting kissing sounds*

- After attempting murder on Shake and throwing him into the void known as space. Tufts comes crying to her sister, Zurich, to bring him back

- Shake slowly learns how to care for (not everyone) but only Tufts. That’s his character development. Only Tufts.

- Tufts daydreams about Shake in college after the time-travel incident

- Shake likes to rub against Tufts and use her as a scratching post

- They hate each other but are literal soulmates

- Tufts is incredibly protective over Shake, as if anyone else would even WANT him

- Both of them don’t know how to interact with people, but slowly through their relationship they learn what love actually feels like

- Both are painfully autistic and get in cartoony ass fights all the time

- Shake calls her “princess” out of spite at first but eventually uses it lovingly (she’s like a princess to King Gallaudet)

- “what do you even see in that guy?” “He makes me laugh.”

Okay that’s it I’m sorry breh

#aqua teen hunger force #athf oc #athf #master shake #oc x canon #fandom oc

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temis-de-leon · 2 days

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Day 12 - Upside down kiss

Characters: Satan x fem!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: asshole cat, accidental nudity, pre-established relationship

MC had mixed feelings about the height of this particular tree. While it brought an enormous shade to the courtyard, offering shelter to both students and animals during storms or abnormally hot days, it also made the resolution of certain… peculiar situations close to impossible.

For instance, no one without wings or unbreakable bones should climb the tree.

So, MC.

In her defence, however, it should be taken into consideration that going up wasn’t her intention. Rather the opposite, actually, she wanted the cat to come down.

She’d never seen an animal like that, with a fur so lustrous it shone under the Devildom’s eternal moonlight. Toxic green eyes stared at her while she cooed and called for its attention, not offering any type of response. And maybe it was her crush’s delusional love for felines taking over her actions, but MC couldn’t see other solution beyond using magic to lure him down.

It didn’t work, of course, because when did something ever work for her? Summoning toys and treats not only was useless, but it also made the cat look at her with disdain, and when she tried to summon the damn creature itself, the words of the incantation and her intentions mixed up and did exactly what she didn’t want to do.

Before MC knew it, the branch where the cat was resting met her face at vertiginous speed. The bark scratched her hands when she desperately grasped it and an infestation of what looked like a mutation of fire ants quickly crawled over her skin, their bites slowly covering wherever they could reach.

Her own weight would be her own downfall; she could notice her fingers struggling to hold on. So, grimacing at the sight of the fire ants, she hoisted herself up and hugged the branch with her legs. Thankfully, the uniform skirt protected her most private and sensitive regions, but her butt didn’t have the same luck.

A wave of panic made her sweat, the bites on her hand, her ankles and her calves more noticeable than ever. Meanwhile, the cat stared at her with amusement.

If the cursed creature even thought of biting or scratching her, she would send it to oblivion and she would not care.

“MC?”

His voice, although it sounded like heaven at the moment, also made her feel deeply embarrassed.

She let her head fall and looked at Satan upside down, not finding herself able to enjoy his handsome features. Blood was quickly rushing down and, added to the pain from the fire ants and the harsh edges of the bark, she wasn’t feeling too good anymore.

“What are you doing there?”

Always the curious mind and slow to empathise in this type of situations, Satan walked until he was below her, where he stayed with a hand on his hip and another one on his chin.

“Proving my stupidity, clearly” MC said in a snide remark, swallowing a sob when her fingers throbbed too much to keep holding on.

In a moment of desperation, she slowly moved her legs so she could hook them over the branch. Her stomach tensed for a couple of seconds while she let herself hang upside down and her hands immediately flew to her skirt to keep her underwear hidden.

It was uncomfortable, mortifying and painful and the moment she stopped, MC wondered why the hell she did it in the first place.

That damn cat.

“Well, no need to be like that” he murmured with a sad pout “I just wanted to know if you needed any help”

MC sighed, but her head was too filled with blood to feel entirely guilty.

“Yeah, I need it… I’m sorry, Satan”

“It’s okay, I understand. That doesn’t look comfortable”

“It isn’t! And it’s starting to hurt!”

“Well, don’t panic” he shushed with slight impatience, looking at her figure and searching for a way to help her “I think I can grab you and help you get down”

Satan didn’t wait for a response, lifting his arms to firmly grip her ribs. The contact made her feel an extra amount of warmth in her face and she prayed he didn’t feel her fastened heartbeat, but judging from his face, not only he did, he was also enjoying it.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that. Are you telling me you don’t like this as much as I do? You can’t hide from me, MC”

“You’re infuriating”

“Sure” he laughed.

“Can’t you go faster?”

Satan chuckled again before suddenly frowning, a blush covering his entire face. He avoided her gaze for just a couple of seconds before looking at her with bashfulness.

“I will… With an incentive…”

He didn’t say anything else and MC realized he was patiently waiting for her permission. With a slight swing, she moved forward and kissed him.

It was weird, not an ideal first kiss, but they didn’t care. His fingers curled over her skin with gentleness, the air coming out of his nose tickling her cheek.

Before she could think about it, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, somehow softer than she could ever imagine.

Then, a piece of fabric fell down. Cold breeze caressed her upper thighs.

Gasping in horror, she got away from him.

“My skirt!”

Taglist: @ourfinalisation @owlisbuffering @chizukimp4 @ravenredwine @darkflowerav @beatlebeesstuff @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x female reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #satan x reader #obey me fluff #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

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