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wttcsms · 4 months

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baby, oh baby ; satoru gojo

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader word count 1.2k synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling). content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance

Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet.

Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even.

He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.

“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.

“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.”

“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.

“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!”

“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.”

“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner.

“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”

He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.”

You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.

“Do you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does.

His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks.

“What’s bothering you?”

You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones.

“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration.

“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others.

“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.

At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest.

“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”

“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?”

“Well, we’ll be the exception.”

“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.”

Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much.

“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”

“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!”

“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you.

“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud.

You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.”

“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”

“You’re going to say something corny.”

“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?”

Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this.

(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #dad!gojo #domestic fluff #fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk one shot #drabble #gojo fluff #gojo x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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😴😴😴 (to find later) AITA for putting sleeping pills in my boyfriend's drinks without him knowing?

I know this sounds absolutely awful, but please bear with me.

Basically, me (27 m) and my boyfriend (26 m) have been living together for around five years, meaning we usually also sleep together. Or at least we try, since my BF suffers from terrible insomnia and reoccurring nightmares so bad sometimes he wakes up into a full on anxiety attack. He does go to therapy and has prescribed sleeping pills, but he hates taking them because he's always afraid that when he does fall asleep he's just going to have nightmares, (which also just makes him avoid sleeping in general even not including his insomnia).

Usually I try to help him by staying up with him, watching his favorite show while cozied up on the couch under a bunch of blankets and with a hot coco, or we do something else that he likes and helps him relax. I really don't mind, I love him and I love spending time with him. However, it used to be that he would fall asleep at around 3-4 AM, but as time went on he started staying up longer and longer, until at a certain point I literally had to start leaving for work in the morning while he still hadn't gotten any sleep.

This was an issue for two reasons: 1. Obviously, without me there he felt even less comfortable and had an even harder time falling asleep, sometimes staying up for even 48 hours (or maybe more, I'm not sure) just to wait for me to come back home so I could help him unwind again. 2. He actually started lying to me about sleeping while I wasn't home, so that I would go to sleep normally and let him stay awake because "he wasn't tired" even though I could clearly tell he was.

That's when I started getting seriously concerned and questioning him about how much he actually sleeps, especially since I could see it was affecting him more and more both mentally and physically. He was avoidant about the topic but I pleaded with him to talk to his therapist about it, to try and find anything else to help him. Apparently his therapist just told him to keep using his sleeping pills to help with the insomnia, and if they're not working she'll look into prescribing him stronger ones. Yet despite that he still insists on not taking them and just going to bed normally even though it's clearly not working.

To clarify: as far as I'm aware, he has no negative side-effects from these sleeping pills, he's never complained about feeling any pain or feeling worse after taking them or anything like that. Literally he only doesn't want to take them because he's just that afraid of going to sleep.

That's why whenever we stay up nowadays, I always add a small dose to his cup of coco, which thankfully has a strong enough taste to cover the pills (I've tried a small bit myself and couldn't tell a difference). Since I started doing that, he's been regularly falling asleep before 2AM and even though the nightmares still sometimes wake him up or make him feel a bit tired in the morning, overall he's been doing much better.

Still, I do feel bad about putting stuff in his drinks without his knowledge even if it's for his own good. I really wonder if I should stop, but I'm really scared that if I do, he'll start spiralling again. I want to help him and be there for him but I've already tried talking about it and it never worked. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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aerahyasashi · 6 days

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TWTWTWTWTWTW: GORE TWTWTWTWTW

Hi, I love the Yandere Gojo series! I'd like to make a request. My request: Yandere Gojo gives his non-sorcerer lover the worst punishment he's ever seen in his life because she keeps trying to run away… he makes her unable to move or run again. either amputation or broken bones. But in the end, he regrets it very much.

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

“𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere (duh) bone breaking, Surgery stuff, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder, Both Reader and Satoru ended up having shared psychosis disorder. Satosugu.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Non-sorcerer reader. Satosugu.

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: okokok, i know that you didn’t requested satosugu anon, but there’s a reason why there’s satosugu in here, and it’s important in the plot. Hope you understand<3. Broken bones is already a bad punishment, but i’ll add a twist on it;) Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Please do support me in wattpad and quotev too<3 i suck at doing angst, sooo.... Idk.. might make a part 2 though.

╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

HE WASN’T THE MAN that you once knew, no longer the gentle soul who showered you with affection. The bond you shared over four years had been pure, filled with love and warmth, until that cursed night , Twenty fourth of December in 2017.

Satoru’s mental state appeared to deteriorate drastically ever since that day. The once warm and affectionate gaze he used to cast on you had now transformed into a cold and distant stare, devoid of any tender emotions.

Sometimes he would blame non-sorcerers like yourself too, grumbling things under his breath like

“You non-sorcerers are the reason why suguru went spiraling”

You didn’t grasp the true meaning of this statement until you did a little digging into Satoru’s past. It was then that you realized you had been living in a state of blissful ignorance.

And after learning about his troubles, instead of scolding him for his erratic behavior and pushing him away, you chose to approach him with kindness and understanding—You felt bad, for you would mostly just yell at him for acting like that, when you didn’t knew the reason why he was like that.

You made every effort to comfort him and show him that you cared deeply for him, to show him how apologetic you are for being so ignorant. However, at times, you also confronted him with harsh truths in order to bring him back to reality.

In these moments of brutal honesty, Satoru took notice of the uncanny similarities between you and Suguru. From the way you conducted yourself to the gestures you made, tie your hair up, everything seemed to echo Suguru’s presence.

The way you spoke, moved, the way your lips would curl up into a smile, the way you would laugh and interacted with others all carried a trace of Suguru’s aura.

And your voice, fuck, the softness of your voice was reminiscent of the way suguru’s voice would soften whenever he talks to satoru.

Despite lacking a clear physical resemblance, the essence of Suguru seemed to radiate from you in all aspects of your actions.

And perhaps, it’s the way that you managed to make him see suguru in you was what made him so obsessed with you. He saw echoes of his beloved friend in your every gesture, your every word. Sometimes, in a strange mixture of jest and earnestness, he would playfully dub you and Suguru, as if to merge the two of you into one entity. Sometimes he would joke about you being suguru’s genderbend.

You found it peculiar yet endearing at first, dismissing it as a harmless quirk borne from grief, as you had always seen it as his coping mechanism. Little did you know, this oversight would prove to be your gravest mistake.

Despite the warning signs he showed, his redflags, you somehow chose to endure it all.

And that was your biggest mistake.

His once-charming gestures now morphed into suffocating constraints, possessiveness, obsessiveness. Slowly but surely, he isolated you from the outside world, severing even the most basic ties of communication with your own family.

Your past talking stage and lovers would be either found dead or missing without any trace. The friends who once stood by your side now regarded you with wary glances, distancing themselves.

Of course, you felt a deep sense of sadness, believing there was a flaw within yourself. And seeking solace and understanding, you opened up to Satoru, shedding tears as you shared the studf that you were facing in your life. In your moments of vulnerability, he offered you comfort, reassuring you that he was all you needed and that you should distance yourself from other individuals. He warned you that these individuals posed a threat to your well-being, emphasizing that their intentions were harmful—and insisting that he was the only one that you need.

As much as you wanted to believe Satoru and trust him completely, your innate intuition stopped you from fully buying into his facade. Because despite his convincing demeanor, a lingering sense of unease tugged at the back of your mind, suggesting that something wasn’t quite right.

Moreover, Satoru showed a tendency to involve himself in even the most mundane of tasks, such as brushing your hair, typically tasks you would manage alone. It seemed as though he viewed you as some kind of doll, someone he could manipulate and control at his own whim. He made sure to always be in close proximity to you, refusing to give you any moments of solitude. The only instances where he allowed you some privacy were during bathing or changing, and even then, he seemed reluctant to leave your side.

His obsession became so intense that he became insistent on your constant presence by his side, whether he was on a mission, teaching, or interacting with colleagues. His students and coworkers all recognized the unhealthy attachment, with Shoko and even Megumi expressing pity towards you for being caught in Satoru’s suffocating love. Despite the visible discomfort from all parties involved, Satoru remained unmoved, justifying his actions to keep you close at all times.

Even when Shoko attempted to reason with him and knock some sense into his fucked up mind, Satoru would manipulate the situation to shift blame onto them, for separating him with suguru—and that they’re the reason why he only has you now.

Nanami also tried to intervene by trying to convince the higher ups to arrange dangerous solo missions for Satoru in hopes of separating you two, but his stubbornness prevailed.

Maki and Nobara also attempted to intervene, even organizing girls’ nights as a means of providing you with a break from Satoru, yet their efforts were futile.

Ultimately, the support from those aware of the situation—Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, Shoko, Maki, and others—proved futile in alleviating the troubling dynamic with Satoru. Despite their best intentions and efforts, your circumstances remained unchanged due to Satoru's unyielding obsession on keeping you with him.

Everyone knew how fucked up he was, but what can they do?

Satoru is the strongest after all.

Your parents weren’t even aware of your situation, as you were not allowed to talk or visit them.

One instance stands out in your memory, when you attempted to say that you want to speak with your parents, and he adamantly refused, claiming it was too perilous. Despite feeling frustrated at the time, you ultimately acquiesced to his wishes. The following day though, a horrifying discovery awaited you— the lifeless bodies of your parents. It was at this moment that you began connecting the dots, reflecting on the untimely death and murder of your previous partners, the gradual alienation of your friends, the look of pity his students and colleagues gives you, the persistent reasoning of people trying to separate you from satoru, his increasing control over your actions, and the coincidental deaths of those you sought to interact with.

The realization dawned on you that all of these events were orchestrated by Satoru himself, with the sole intention of keeping you entirely under his influence. And an overwhelming sense of fear crept into your chest, prompting you to devise a plan to escape while he was on a mission.

🔪🔪🔪

Your entire body was engulfed in pain and weariness, each muscles contracting in pain, your breaths labored and shallow as if your lungs were about to give out—About to rupture, and a searing sensation in your chest as it tightens, heaving with each labored breath you took.

Your feet were raw and bloody, multiple cuts on it from the jagged edges of rocks you have stepped on, perspiration was all over your body in rivulets, and a dry, scratchy feeling in your throat due to lack of moisture and oxygen.

Everything burned, yet you persisted in moving forward, walking a fine line between imminent collapse and the urgent need to evade getting caught by Satoru—your boyfriend.

Rather than face capture, you were willing to risk death in your desperate attempt to escape.

You’d rather die trying to escape than live without trying to fight for your freedom.

The exhaustion consuming you mattered little, all that occupied your mind was the need to break free from his grasp and his control over you.

The passage of time was a blur, perhaps an hour had passed since you began running, your energy waning as your vision blurred with fatigue.

Lost in the vast unknown surroundings, it seemed as though you were trapped in a never-ending loop. Uncertain of your location in Japan, the isolated landscape consisted only of a sprawling mansion, trees, and barren land devoid of any signs of human life. It felt as though you had been completely cut off from civilization.

As you continued running, tears streaming down your face, your mind were spinning and every hair on your body stood on end at the sound of his voice suddenly booming.

“Hm? Is that you that i see there, [Name]?”

You froze.

“What have I told you about leaving without my permission?”

The sound of Satoru's voice sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in your tracks. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to keep moving, to escape his reach, but the fear of his wrath paralyzed you in place.

“S-satoru.. what are you doing here...?”

You couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to be here when he was supposed to be on a mission. Your mind raced with confusion and disbelief.

“No, what are you doing here?” He asks, staring down at you coldly.

“Are you.. trying to run away?” He questioned you as he stepped closer to you.

Your breath hitched, throat constricting as you looked up at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

“I-i..”

“I-i wasn’t i swear—”

You were left speechless as you were suddenly shoved you down, causing your head to hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood trickled down your forehead as a cry of pain escaped your throat.

His gaze bore down on you with a chilling intensity, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re trying to leave me..”

“I trusted you,” he whispered shakily.

“How could you? I made sure to go back as soon as possible after my mission was finished so that you won’t be in danger... And now you’re running away and putting yourself in danger?”

Out of nowhere, his hand tightly gripped your throat, squeezing with such force that it became difficult to breathe, leading to a sensation of suffocation and a blurred vision.

“S-satoru n-nnh! L-let go!”

Struggling to break free, you frantically attempted to pry his fingers off your neck, letting out choked screams in the process. Your body thrashed around violently, desperately trying to fend him off by kicking in all directions.

“You’re really just like suguru... always trying to resist..”

“I trusted you,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice cracking.

“But what have you done?” he asked shakily.

His pupils trembled like leaves in a fierce wind, his entire frame quivering with an unsettling intensity. Those piercing sapphire eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine in the dim, eerie stillness of the forest.

“L-let go p-please satoru!” You begged.

“P-please. A-ahn.. let g-go, ‘Toru, please,”

“T-toru, haaah, i-i c-can’t breathe”

He seemed to pause at that when you called him “Toru.”

And slowly, his grasp slackened, leaving you gasping for precious breath as your lungs desperately clawed for every molecule of air.

You coughed, again and again and again, and he just watched you.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you turned to look at him, your face contorted in anger abd fear.

“Y-you’re crazy satoru,” Your voice emerged hoarse and jagged.

“You’re crazy, i swear” You rasped as you dragged yourself away from him, only for him to close the distance.

“Crazy?” he repeated.

“Yes, crazy for love.” His fervor seemed to border on mania.

“Yes I’m Enamored, Suguru.” he professed with an almost unsettling zeal, his voice now carrying a hauntingly romantic lilt as though the torment he inflicted on you was an act of devotion.

Your breath hitched.

“What...?” your eyes widened.

“I’m not... Suguru...” Your voice faltered, delicate lips quivering. Pain pulsed through every fiber of your being, urging you to run away, yet how could you escape from one so consumed by his own distorted reality? Satoru appeared to be in a haze, his eyes vacant and unseeing—He was in his delusional state.

“Suguru, let’s go home..” Satoru mumbled.

You swallowed thickly. You were about to make a dumb move, but fuck, he really needed to snap out of it.

Gently, you cupped his face between trembling hands, hoping your tender touch might pierce the delirium and make him snap out of it.

“Please, ‘Toru, focus on the sound of my voice. It’s not suguru, it’s me”

But he remained ensnared in his twisted visions, oblivious to reality.

“...Satoru... ‘Toru, listen to me. I’m not suguru.”

“I’m not him. I’m [Name], your girlfriend...”

Again, and again and again, you tried to convince him that you’re not suguru.

“I’m [Name], the one that you met at the bakery that you liked so much... And i’m not suguru ”

You phrased it in different words.

And yet...

He was still lost in it.

“What are you saying suguru?”

Dread constricted your heart, each moment bringing you closer to the brink. To flee would surely send him into a frenzy but to stay would probably result in suffering.

“Don’t say things like that... Suguru”

he whispered.

“I still haven’t forgave you for running away.” He uttered, and a pit formed on your stomach.

“I’m [Name], not suguru—Toru... Please, fuck, snap out of it”

He ignored you as he gently caressed your cheek before guiding your head towards his for a kiss. Your heart pounded as your lips met, the sharp sting of his teeth on yours making you whimper.

“S’toru... Stop...”

When he didn’t stop, you reacted by biting his tongue hard, making it bleed. Surprisingly, this did not deter him; instead, he released a soft moan of pleasure.

“Oh fuck... You’re still the same as always, suguru.”

You gasped as he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Sa-Satoru... What the fuck..?” You shrieked. Why the hell did he said that? Does this meant that... He was in a previous relationship with Suguru? Did he used you as a rebound? No, fuck, he sees suguru in you.

You understand it now.

“I’ll make sure you don’t do it again,” He whispered.

“Huh?”

“Make sure that you don’t massacre a whole ass village again so that they won’t separate you from me...”

Slowly, deliberately, his other hand drifted downward toward your ankle. Your heart drops as you felt him do that.

Oh fuck, he’s not planning on snapping your ankles, is he?

“Satoru, no, no, no, no, no!”

You strained against his crushing hold, but could only witness in horror as his fist closed around the delicate bones.

“If you do that, i’ll never forgive you— AHHH!”

A strangled scream caught in your throat as you felt the unmistakable snap of your ankle splintering beneath his strength.

White-hot pain lanced up your leg and your vision blurred with tears of misery. Before you could process the pain of the first break, his hand was upon your other ankle. You knew what was coming yet were powerless to prevent it. Another sickening crack reverberated through your shattered nerves as satoru callously contorted the joint beyond its limits. Bone fragmented, muscle tore, and ligaments ripped apart, leaving your legs crippled and limp.

🔪🔪🔪

His fingers pressed insistently beneath your chin, a mixture of gentle caress and firm control as he meticulously groomed your hair, each stroke designed to emulate the exact style of Suguru’s locks.

Tying it back partially, he sought to replicate every minute detail, ensuring you bore an eerie resemblance to his obsession—Suguru. But the true horror lay in his pervasive fixation upon you as Suguru incarnate. He paid face surgeons to sculpt and mold your face until the reflection in the mirror bore a warped semblance to Suguru’s features, he would drape you in Suguru’s attire and bestowing upon you the very essence of his fucking bestfriend.

And the worst of it all? he managed to find suguru’s daughters and practically forced you to take care of them—like the way suguru would take care of them. Even suguru’s daughters were horrified — yet they were too scared to even refuse.

All of the horrors that he had made you go through broke you completely.

“Perfect,” he murmured with a self-satisfied hum, stepping back to survey his handiwork.

You just sat there, disoriented, and feeling hollow as an empty shell.

Stripped of your true identity and coerced into being someone else you weren’t. The drugs he administered clouded your mind, the brainwashing eroding your sense of self until you could no longer discern who you are. The only thing you knew is that you’re suguru.

It was a bad punishment, real, real bad punishment.

Your identity was snatched, and you were no longer yourself.

He furrows his brow, observing the silence that hangs between you.

“C’mon speak, suguru.” he urges, his gaze piercing into yours.

“Isn’t it perfect?”

Suddenly, a flicker of realization dances in his eyes as they narrow, scrutinizing the subtle yet noticable difference between your eyes and suguru. The shift is imperceptible to most, but to him, it is a glaring anomaly that demands attention.

A smirk curls onto his lips

“Seems like we need to adjust those eyes of yours as well, huh? Don’t you agree, suguru ?”

Satoru sighed as his calloused fingers tangled themselves in thick ebony locks, pulling your motionless form taut against his chest. An ichor-cold sense of wrongness had settled itself deep in his marrow, its barbs tearing at his insides.

His beloved Suguru was already here... But... Where is his [Name]?

“Nanako and Mimiko would be upset to see you like this suguru...”

RING

Satoru blinked at the sudden shrill clamor emanating from his phone—and he realized that someone was calling him, still cradling your form against his chest with a singular hand. He took the device from his trousers one-handed, calloused fingers opening his phone.

When at last the lock screen dissolved into view, an icy shiver seized his marrowed bones.

It was you—in your normal self, kissing him in the cheek, and you two looked very happy.

Why did suddenly felt wrong?

...

... It felt wrong...

So, so wrong.

Why did nostalgia for your genuine self now claw so vehemently at the fissures in his heart, when only Suguru had the right to reside there?

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centrally-unplanned · 5 months

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The thing about morality is that it only matters when it's real. Discussions of rules or norms for what is right or wrong are almost always, at some level, illusions, approximating reality and guiding decisions in an uncertain world - which does not make them useless, just contextual. Profaning god in your bedroom can never be “wrong” - there is no one to hear you, no one to be hurt by it. You can only show something is really wrong from the intentions of the actions and their results.

So with that out of the way, lets talk about Knives Chau - and specifically, how the comic vs the anime handled that part of the story.

Scott Pilgrim vs The Reification of Dating a High Schooler

There is an extremely pervasive meme in Scott Pilgrim discourse that our titular Scott is a scumbag. Our returning whipping boy the Kotaku article loves this idea, describing Scott’s “detestable behavior” and wondering “was it too subtle the first time about Scott being an absolute shitbag?”. There is this viral headline screenshot from an interview floating around right now riding that same line:

Which is, of course, pretty much false. Its up to you in the end, “shitbag” is a subjective description, but the story just isn’t about events that would be described that way. Its the story of a guy getting over an awful ex, hurting some people, then meeting a new person, and realizing step-by-step what it takes to be their partner and levelling up as a person each time he does. He starts off broken, and Ramona of course is just as broken - getting better is their mutual arc. And its fundamentally about relationship drama - those stakes don’t make you a scumbag lol, just clueless, unless you are terminally online and don’t know what real stakes are.

I will let O’Malley get the last word in with his quote the writer of that interview is hilariously trying to torture into his headline:

There's a bit of, like, young people see Scott Pilgrim a certain way, and, you know, there's a lot of, like, 18-19-year-old fans that are really judgmental of the character. They're like, "Oh, he's a bad person. I would never do that." But I always tell them, like, get back to me when you're 25 or 30, tell me how your 20s went. Were you a bad person? Everyone has to make choices and do things in life that maybe they're not going to be proud of later.

Scott is a scumbag the way everyone is - you yourself will likely commit similar sins; that at least seems to be the authorial intent, and I agree with it.

So how does dating Knives Chau slot into this?

Despite the memes, age, in fact, is just a number - two consenting people dating does not a sin make. The reason dating underage people is bad is because of its consequences, not the categorical imperative. So what are the consequences of dating Knives Chau in the comic?

Knives is, as a consequence of dating a guy who is simply via his age able to appear so much cooler than her peers to her, absolutely obsessed with Scott. She worships his band:

She starts aping his taste in music and interests; she slots herself into his circle of friends, who don’t relate to her, even after their breakup (often drinking her way through it):

She totally spirals after he cheats on her and leaves her, blaming everyone but him; she is wounded and hurt for months, a year, over a relationship that lasted weeks:

Knives Chau is a literal poster child for why you should not date a high schooler. She is, at every turn, emotionally not ready to date someone who is not at her own level of social development, and is deeply affected by it. It is, sometimes, played for laughs - that is the nature of the comic, everything is played for laughs, but I would have given it a bit more dramatic space myself - but over the course of the story Scott himself realizes how much of an ass he was to her, and how he didn’t take what happened seriously.

The reason I view this with charity is what Scott did to lead to this - he met a cute girl on the bus! He was deeply hurt and kind of numb in life, and found someone who was safe and easy to talk to. He never attempts to kiss her (she starts trying to kiss him which he repeatedly rejects) they don’t even hold hands, and it lasted a few weeks. He knew deep down, pretty much immediately, it was fake:

Then he met an actual person he liked, and with some browbeating from Wallace agreed to break up with her, but chickened out for a day. Then the next day he decides to break up with her, and she drops the L bomb before he can, so he instantly ends it. It is really awkward for everyone involved.

Pushing off an awkward and uncomfortable conversation resulting from a dumb decision you made on a whim for a week - god I relate to that, that’s everyone! If you think it isn’t you I think you're lying. Its why this relationship is so interesting in the comic - Scott is always one step removed from it, putting it at abeyance, and the fact that something so minor to him is so destructive to her is a really good portrait of how these kinds of things happen. Its so easy to hurt someone when you don’t even know what the stakes are, and when its coming not from malice, but from weakness. Its a very good portrayal of a bad relationship because its bad in a relatable way, even if as a story is a bit more dramatic than is typical. And its a great portrayal of how fraught age gaps can be - this bad relationship is part of what makes the comic a good story.

But its 2023, we don’t give a shit about any of that anymore!

O’Malley in the same interview discusses the cultural shift around these kind of relationships:

I felt like in this day and age, I had to provide clarity on that [relationship]. Because when I wrote the first books, I took it for granted that people would understand that dating a high schooler was a bad thing. But on the internet, in this day and age, people are like, "He's dating a high schooler. That's terrible!" Like, that's pretty much what I say on page 1 of the book. But I try to spell it out a little bit more this time.

He isn’t telling the full story though - it was bad in 2004, but not bad the way it is today. Its dubiousness was mitigated by its frequency; people were doing this kind of shit all the time. Scott Pilgrim is a bass guitarist in an indie band; fucking groupies is like built into the cover charge. Half the problem Scott has in dating Knives is that she is the wrong kind of 17-year-old - had Scott met her at 1 am in the aftermath of a Born Ruffian’s concert at the Whippet Lounge knocking down shots off the back of her fake ID, no one would have even noticed. Hell, no one does notice; there is someone who actually makes out with a drunk 17-year-old Knives Chau in the comic Scott Pilgrim, and isn’t Scott Pilgrim:

No one cares about Kim’s inebriated petting session here; that is 10% because she is a Girl and Girls Can’t Be Predators, 40% because she isn’t the main character, and 50% because Kim Pine’s dating history is not a useful proxy battleground for GamerGate-adjacent nerd culture wars in ~2014; but that is road that goes directly to hell, so let's veer back.

The point, of course, is that in 2004 this is a crime flecked with normality, something your friend would do and you would maybe just cock an eyebrow at:

Its not that in discourse today - it is radically more condemned. It is not a contextual sin, but an original sin. It underwent a process I am calling reification - where it goes from being just a shifting descriptor of reality, to a thing in itself, with a defined (reified) meaning. And to be clear, that is in a lot ways on net a good thing? The reality is that, despite everyone’s protestations, there are today thousands of 17-year-olds taking the L line out to a gig at the Brooklyn Steel and going down on a 25-year-old guy they just met in a back alley off Frost St who swears he’s a “drummer in a sick new band” that played here “just last week”, he promises, and she is having a great time, bragging to her friends about how hot his tattoo was, and then shipping herself off to Cornell next year to start on her pre-med track with barely a memory. But for every dozen of those, there is at least one person who is deeply, deeply hurt, a Knives Chau who never deserved this. The rest can have a slightly worse time, its probably worth it.

That does not make it a categorical imperative, though - the reification has masked that truth. The crime comes from the context - those other girls aren’t victims, they would laugh at you for suggesting they were. But in 2023, Scott Pilgrim Takes Off is no longer concerned with context. It is telling you, right to your face, that Scott is a bad dude. Over and over and over - jokes from the Evil League about “wow, I thought we were evil”, its not subtle.

Yet meanwhile, Knives Chau is, like, fine? She dates Scott, is totally into him, and then literally in the middle of his funeral forgets about him for Envy crashing it:

Picks up the bass and has yuri-inflected playtime with Kim the literal next day:

And less than a week later is pitching an off-broadway musical adaption of Scott’s life to a billionaire Matthew Patel - I can’t explain that okay, I’m as confused as you are.

She is mad at Scott, sure, but she is over it in a matter of days. Hell, notice how she was already a fan of the Clash at Demonhead now? There is no scene of Scott introducing her to his kind of music. He didn’t change her. By the end she is a member of his band and they are totally chill:

This is, again, about a week or two later.

Knives is not an important character in this show, way less than in the original, this is no grand sin. But I still find it very interesting: O’Malley is wrong. He “spells it out” way less in this version when it comes to the actual consequences of Scott’s actions. Everyone’s verbal condemnations are substitutes to replace the real damage his actions dealt in the comic. Scott is a better person this time, in a world that has universally agreed he is worse (still not a good move ofc). Even Scott’s moment of apology to Knives about their dating is so tepid its almost Straussian:

Its ‘frowned upon’…which is not the same thing as saying it was wrong! I don’t think this is intentional, its just funny, but its a nice capstone nevertheless.

And it had to be this way, not just for media in general, but for Scott Pilgrim in particular. Not only are sexual crimes far more reified today, but Scott Pilgrim’s sin of dating a high schooler is reified as well - its the first piece of discourse everyone encounters about it. Its the ur-debate of the franchise. The idea of actively engaging on this point, and digging deeper into it…its too hot, too controversial. Way better to shy away from it, disown it. The discourse wrote this part of the script over the course of a decade; its not something the creatives had any say in.

Honestly they should have just gone all the way - just make Knives 19. Then how tepid it is wouldn’t be a distraction anymore. Scott can just be an asshole for cheating on her, that would work fine. If you aren’t going to commit to the reality of these things, you shouldn’t bother with it at all.

#scott pilgrim #essay

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phfenomena · 4 months

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❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

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miscellaneous fellow honest headcanons

These aren't following any prompt in particular, these are just thoughts I had when I saw the guy hammin' it up and then turning on us.

Some of these headcanons are informed by fan art I've seen and discussions I've had with friends, while others are purely me.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

He calls people “little lads” and “little ladies”.

Fellow has a very noticeable laugh. Like, he grunts and snorts and has tears rolling down his cheeks. (He tends to laugh at others’ misery, thinking of it as “retribution” or “payback” for the injustices he has suffered himself.)

Bro shaves using a knife (yes, he shaves because he is a grown ass man) because razors are hella expensive.

He uses that cheap cologne and cakes it on THICK. This, in his mind, gives off the impression that he’s a well-off and put-together individual you should tooootally trust.

Also the type of person that lays it on thick with his words. If he’s trying to impress a date or something, he’ll shower them with so many compliments it almost seems fake. But no, he’s just the type to simp hard when he happens to be genuine 💀 most of the time he’s faking it though—

He’s very street smart, but in a way where he confuses hostile people by talking over them and acting overly friendly. They usually stuns them long enough for him and Gidel to skedaddle.

If he gets dumped, he'd be the pathetic whimpering boyfriend that begs for his ex to take him back. When they inevitably don't, he mopes all day about it.

He chain smokes and aggressively drinks as a coping mechanism on his bad days 😔 and sometimes he gambles (like, on those scratch-off cards) hoping that he'll strike it rich and buy him and Gidel a better life...

Basically, he generally does not have his shit together but tries his best to pass like someone who does (and usually succeeds at it).

Fellow appears in public wearing his full suit, but at home (ie whatever ratty temporary housing their boss found for them before they move on to the next place) he just wears a T-shirt and lounges around in boxers (and sometimes socks with holes in them).

He uses those disposable eyeshadow wands that snap in half at the slightest bit of too much pressure. Fellow acts like the Claire’s kid makeup he uses is the luxury stuff, but Vil can tell the pigmentation isn’t all there and there’s MAD fallout.

He may be broke AF and have his moments of emotional spiraling, but he has pretty decent budgeting skills. Fellow lives for sales and does extreme couponing to stretch their money as far as it will go.

He invests in other cost-saving methods like wearing shoes until the sole is literally flopping off and just adding water to residual soap in a pump bottle to make the soap "last longer".

Fellow is really good at cutting food (bread, beans) thin to conserve it. Yes, this is a reference to an old Mickey Mouse cartoon—

When he was younger, he had dreams of being an actor (and, more specifically, starring in musicals). That's why he's often humming, swinging around his cane, and/or whistling as he's on the prowl for idiots to sucker—they're remainders of his thespian days before his dreams were crushed into itty bitty pieces.

Man looks like he'd be great at tap dancing.

Before his current gig, he tried a bunch of other scams including a MLM at one point to get by. His signature spell came in pretty clutch in those days too.

Fellow’s not that good at reading or spelling—in fact, he was never a particularly strong student. (“I didn’t fail school!! The schools failed ME!!”) He’s easily frustrated by academics and thinks there should be more hands-on and practical skills taught in learning institutions.

I think it's a given that he and Ruggie would be besties since they both want to eat the rich but I also think Fellow would kiss ass to Azul and then rage about how shitty + entitled Azul is (Azul reminds Fellow of his boss)💀 Scammers hate other scammers because they're both competing to scam the same people--

Even though Fellow is an asshole to most others (well, when he’s not flattering them to lure them into a trap), he’s always nice to Gidel and puts him first. If there’s ever a situation where they’re short on something (clothes, food, etc), Gidel gets priority. This is why Gidel has a full outfit (even if parts are patches or mismatched) whereas Fellow himself has a glove that is so worn out there’s a hole in one of the pinkie fingers.

Fellow may not be blessed with a bounty of magic, but he’s quick on his feet and good with words. Because of these skills, he’s talented at spinning bedtime stories, which he often tells to Gidel to help him fall asleep on nights that are particularly cold and nasty.

Gidel still believes in Santy Claws and wishing upon stars, and Fellow doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. He’ll figure it out on his own one day, Fellow thinks. He just doesn’t want to be the one to ruin those childhood joys for him.

Playing pretend is another shared past time of theirs. It helps Fellow get into character before he goes off to swindle people, and it gives Gidel a way to express himself in spite of being mute. They have a routine they do together where Fellow pretends to be a doctor diagnosing a patient and Gidel takes down notes for him as his medical scribe. Yes, this is a Pinocchio reference—

They actually have many more games they play (mainly because they cannot afford other forms of entertainment). Some of the games are clever ruses conjured by Fellow to teach Gidel survival tips and tricks: the who-can-make-their-piece-of-bread-last-longer game, hide-and-seek (from the authorities), etc.

For special occasions, Fellow saves up some money on the side to grant Gidel little luxuries, like a box of crayons to doodle with.

Gidel hugs Fellow’s leg or waist to cheer him up when he’s upset. He also hides behind Fellow when he’s scared or feeling shy.

He’s just really attached to Gidel cuz they have no one else in this cruel world, just them against the world 😔 He sees a lot of his younger self in the little boy… the opportunities lost because of their circumstances… “It’s alright, Gidel. Leave it to Fellow-sama.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Fellow Honest #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Ferro honest #Gidel #Gidell #disney twisted wonderland #something no one asked for #spoilers #twst x reader #Fellow Honest x Reader #Vil Schoenheit #Ruggie Bucchi #Azul Ashengrotto #curiouser and curiouser

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heliza24 · 2 months

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I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.

#interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #iwtv #daniel molloy #armandaniel #devils minion #louis de pointe du lac #armand #my meta #my crip media reviews

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thebibliosphere · 9 months

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Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.

Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)

I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.

Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot

Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.

The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)

If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."

I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.

It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.

(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)

A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."

It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.

I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)

#chronic health tag #adult adhd #adhd

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tojisun · 4 months

Note

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C129xgdPN0D/?igsh=eWptZ2tnMHI0ODJ1

price and soap price and soap price and soap. i’m literally foaming at the mouth. i can’t take it

IM A PUDDLE IM A MESS OH MY GOD!!! THATS SO PRICE AND SOAP YEA IM LIKE SCALING THE WALLS

જ thinking about seeing price’s tummy first before his gains. thinking about price lifting his shirt up to wipe at his face, giving you a view of his belly and you freeze, going breathless because what the fuck that’s so hot.

john sees you gaping at him and he coughs awkwardly, apologizing about the indecency, and you’re quick to reassure him that “no, no oh my god you look good! sorry i just- i just didn’t expect that!”

clearly that doesn’t save you from further mortification so you stutter out a goodbye and hightail out of there. it’d be weeks later (the gap days full of you remembering john’s body… sometimes even dreaming about it. dreaming about being pressed against his softness and being cradled and being taken by him against the wall and-…!!) when john shows you his muscles—ripped in a way that you also didn’t expect from him but, you realize, of fucking course he’s ripped!

the daydreams just spiral even more after that :((

જ thinking about the opposite for soap—how you first saw his toned pecs before his tummy. thinking about seeing soap in that white cunty ripped-sleeves turtleneck as he fixes up something in his garage, sweat making his adonis-like muscles glisten and you honest to god whimper.

johnny looks up from where he’s got his head bowed to see something in his car and waves at you, shooting you that toothy smile that makes your breath hitch. the stretch of his arm makes his muscles flex and you could not stop the dreamy sigh that slithers out of your lips.

“hey neighbour!” johnny calls out, before his brows furrow in confusion as you, and you realize this in horror, proceed to just stare at him, all dopey and unblinkingly.

“oh!” you squeak. “bye!”

you’d try to ignore him as best as you could and you tell yourself that johnny’s sad puppy look isn’t getting to you but, well, you’re a liar and a weakling.

so, naturally, you see yourself knocking on his door a week later with a tupperware full of cookies. johnny swings the door open, wide smile only faltering a bit to make way for his confusion, but you bulldoze through whatever he must have wanted to say because you could honestly feel yourself getting faint—of course your handsome neighbour is even more handsome up close. of course.

“i, uh, got you cookies,” you say, cringing at the rasp of your voice. “well i say i ‘got’ you cookies but actually i baked them. for you. as apology. because i’m sorry.”

why, in god’s name, are you talking like that!?

“and you probably don’t wanna eat them because, duh, muscle man right here—” jesus christ, shut up! “so feel free to chuck ‘em out, i honestly wouldn’t feel offended and-”

johnny laughs, so bright and joyful that it makes him throw his head back. he even wipes his eyes because he’s laughing so hard, he teared up.

“easy there, chipmunk,” he says, mid-chuckles.

chipmunk?

“i’d love to eat these—” he takes the tupperware from you. “y’kiddin’?”

then he does the unthinkable—he lifts his shirt up to show you his, surprisingly, soft belly. you expected muscles and sculpted abs but this? god, this is better.

johnny pats his stomach. “this baby needs ‘em sweets.”

“uh huh,” you rasp out because what else can you say when adonis shows you his stomach?

“that’s great,” you add, your eyes still trained to his belly. “really, really great.”

“…you okay there?”

you fumble another ‘uh huh’ because, again, what else can you say?

yall need to stage a full intervention atp bc i cant stop rambling hhhshe!!! ne ways, this is me rn for realz 😭 and me! anotha me!! god i need emmmm

#thoughts-from-omen #john price x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #john price #johnny soap mactavish #ask #suns #IM LOSING MY MIND

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geeky-politics-46 · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight.

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room.

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up.

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts.

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong."

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -"

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see.

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?"

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself.

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..."

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion.

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?"

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath."

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses.

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck.

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo.

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun.

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too."

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face.

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. "

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together."

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers.

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera.

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides.

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink.

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours.

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine."

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights.

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby."

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind.

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move.

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting.

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess."

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements.

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb.

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter.

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind.

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

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dearsnow · 5 months

Text

WE’RE BORN AT NIGHT

- in which you hold johnny cade like water, or, christ, you hold him like a knife (you’re worried that your touch brings up unpleasant memories for your boyfriend, but he feels differently. johnny cade x gn!reader, angst -> fluff but still bittersweet bc there’s nothing you can really do but hold him, yes this is based off of who we are by hozier because i am a heathen for the irish man).

word count: 1,022

a/n - my first johnny piece and the first piece that i’ve done in actual months 🥹 this is likely not my comeback though and i’m sorry for that 😭 i will always write and i will probably post most of it, but life has been rocky for me lately and my available free time reflects that. in any case, i hope you enjoy my short return (there will inevitably be more as i work things out), and plsss talk to me about the outsiders and literally anything else because i will most definitely love to hear it.

It’s not often that Johnny Cade comes knocking at your door, despite the fact that he’s been your boyfriend for three months now. He never wants to put you out, he says, but when he shows up with a black eye and hand-shaped bruises on his arm, you usher him inside as quickly as you can.

“What happened?” You murmur, eyes scanning over his injuries.

“Just my old man again.” He hesitates. There’s a sharp edge to his words, like they cut his mouth just to say. “Look, I shouldn’t have come.”

You cut him off, tone brimming with concern. If he doesn’t feel safe with you, with staying at your house when his is dangerous, then you need to try harder to keep his quiet heart intact. “You can always come.”

“I know. I mean, the gang’s all out at a party ‘n I guess I just didn’t know where else to go.” He shifts his stance uncomfortably as you hand him two bags of frozen vegetables. “As much as you say you want me here, I know there are some places where I ain’t welcome.”

You would kill his parents if you could. Fuck, you would send them straight to Hell without a second thought. Anyone that truly knew what was going on in that house would. All you can do, though, is take care of him as well as you’re able to.

“I promise, you’re welcome. More than anyone or anything else. I need you here, when things are rough and when they aren’t. Tell me you’ll come when you can.” You speak.

He looks so beautiful in this light, despite everything. You love him so badly that your heart aches from just the movements of his sad brown eyes. “I will.”

“Good.” You smooth down the collar of his jacket, making careful, delicate movements. You fear that if you go a hair too close, he will shatter like the glass bottles thrown at him. “Let’s go to my room, okay? My parents won’t be home until later. We can get you some rest.”

There’s a small part of Johnny that detests himself for holding you back. You could be doing greater things than pressing a wet rag to his forehead, and yet, you stay. You always stay. No matter how horrible the situation, you stay with a pinky linked around his and a warmth so hopeful he thinks he might implode every time he feels it.

You pull your thick blankets over him, uncaring of his grease and the slightly grungy clothes rubbing against your bedsheets. If he needs you, and god, does he look it, you will always be there.

You’re facing him in bed, hands outstretched to card through his hair, but they don’t make contact. His eyes are lightly closed. You wish you could just touch him, hold his hands between your fingers and warm your feet against his calves. There’s some sort of unbreakable barrier between you when you feel that your every movement could send him spiraling into memories of an unkind fist. And yet, an unconscious twitch sends your leg just a centimeter forward to touch his. If you think real, real hard about it, you might have felt him jolt.

“I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable, Johnny.” You whisper, shifting your legs so they’re no longer against him. “I’m real sorry. I know sometimes you don’t like that kind of stuff.”

“No.” He starts, opening his eyes. The rasp in his voice makes your heart sting like a bee’s last breath. “I like it, I mean, I think I do.” His gaze turns towards yours again, brimming with a kind of beautiful emotion, and his fingers move towards your sleeve. “It kinda… it tells me a bit that fingers ain’t always gonna ball up in fists and a palm against my cheek don’t have to hurt.” He breathes. You stare at him. He likes it? Lord, he likes it, and you like it, and you will die if you cannot swathe your entire body around him like you’re trying to keep him together. “‘S like you hold me like water, or, I dunno, a knife. Real gentle and secure n’ such.”

You travel the distance between you, tenderly wrapping your arms around his midsection. He pulls you closer, and suddenly, you feel complete.

If he was being honest, Johnny thinks you saved him. His whole life, he chased and chased the peace that evaded him every second of every day. Like a dog, kicked and dark-eyed, he put his nose to the ground and simply smelled the greater things on the horizon. They were out of reach to him, the silence just barely kissing the tip of his head before dancing so far away he couldn’t reach it if he sprinted. But you, God, you gave him everything he could ever want.

When merciful you came waltzing into his life, he thought nothing could ever be quite so horrible again. You have a forgiving hand and a quiet smile, laced with words that tickle his cheeks rather than grinding him into the earth. When he can reach out to you, gripping your warm arm like a lifeline, everything makes sense. He wouldn’t give that up for the world. He drinks in the affection you give him like sand in a bone-dry desert, and the thought that you could ever be worried about how much you love sets his heart ablaze.

“I’m glad.” You whisper. He can feel your breath against his shirt, and it makes him shiver in a pleasant way. “I love you.“

His breath hitches, heart picking up its pace, as he gently buries his warming face into the top of your head. “I love you too. And… and if you’re here, I want to be here forever.”

He squeezes you just a little bit, just enough to let you know that he never wants to let you go.

“Then I’m never leaving.” You smile. He smiles back, and for the first time that night, he thinks that he might be able to do more than just survive.

#solar eclipse.#johnny cade x reader #johnny cade #johnny cade headcanons #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fandom #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders hcs #fanfic #angst #fluff

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