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singmyaubade · 1 year

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No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26

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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

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Welcome Back ┃Sebastian Vettel

Pairing: sebastianvettel x wife!

summary: sebastian and his wife give a surprise visit to the drivers

The sun was setting over the prestigious circuit, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling F1 paddock. The air was filled with the heady aroma of fuel and excitement, as fans and teams prepared for the next race. Unbeknownst to the drivers, a surprise awaited them in the form of a familiar face.

Sebastian Vettel, four-time Formula 1 world champion, was near the paddock entrance with his wife Y/N. After a brief hiatus, they returned to the racing world, not as competitors, but as spectators and supporters. As they walked through the meadow, whispers of excitement and surprise followed them.

Sebastian and Y/N decided to visit the drivers, many of whom had considered Vettel as a role model and mentor throughout their careers, and Y/N as a second mother, having always been there for them since their beginnings. Their first stop was the Scuderia Ferrari garage, where Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz were engrossed in pre-race conversations with their engineers.

The moment they entered, the atmosphere changed. Leclerc and Sainz turned to see the iconic duo standing there with warm smiles. The garage buzzed with excitement as the younger drivers embraced Sebastian like a long-lost friend and Y/N, with her gentle lover, radiated warmth, making the meadow feel like a homecoming.

"It's amazing to have you both here," Charles exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration. "We've missed having both around!"

Carlos nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's like having our racing parents back. How's life outside the cockpit treating you?"

Sebastian chuckled, "It's different, but we're enjoying the change. And we couldn't resist coming back to witness the thrill of F1 and catch up with all of you."

The surprise visit continued as the couple toured the paddock. Each meeting was marked by genuine enthusiasm and candid conversations. Max Verstappen, who upon seeing them from afar, ran towards them and hugged them tightly, excited to tell them all of his achievements that he had managed to achieve thanks to their help and support. Lando Norris, who almost fainted from excitement when he saw them in front of him, grabbed them both by the arms and took them to the McLaren garage, eager to introduce them to his new partner, Oscar, and the other drivers enthusiastically shared stories of their trips in the mountains. races and asked the experienced couple for advice.

As Sebastian and Y/N approached Lewis Hamilton's Mercedes garage, the air was filled with anticipation. Hamilton, Y/N's old friend, rival and former teammate, greeted them both with a warm hug along with a big smile on his face.

"Seb, Y/N, it's been too long!" Hamilton exclaimed. "This paddock hasn't been the same without you. We need your wisdom and humor back in the game."

Sebastian grinned, "Well, we're here to bring some of that back, at least for today. But remember, you're doing just fine without us. Keep pushing, and the wins will come."

''It's good to see that I left the Mercedes seat in good hands, George has been fantastic in this new season!'' Y/N exclaimed with a touch of emotion and nostalgia when remembering the boy's first season.

The surprise visit of the Vettel's became the highlight of the racing weekend. The drivers, in the midst of their high-risk world, appreciated the moments with them and the peace of mind of knowing that even if they were no longer there every race weekend, they would always be with them. As the day of the race went on, the echoes of their visit persisted, inspiring the drivers to try harder, not only for victory, but also to make their grid parents proud, who watched them grow up, gave them advices, helped them get up when people started to turn their backs on them, who told them to never give up their dream, and who had given them a new meaning of ''family''.

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thehmn · 8 months

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It has become more widely known that jotun men from Norse mythology can give birth and generally people immediately jump to “That has to mean they’re trans men!” but one of the first things we’re told about jotuns is that they’re intersex in a fantastical way where they have both penis and vagina because they are creatures of chaos. Well, some of them.

The first jotun Ymir had both and mated with himself (the text literally say he had both) to create the jotun race. Then there’s King Godmundr who gave birth to nine wolf pups by his wizard werewolf boyfriend, which of course highlights that sometimes jotuns birth animals or monsters, the most famous instance being Angrboða giving birth to Hela, Fenrir and Jörmungandr by Loki.

But it also seems like not all jotun men can give birth naturally, Loki being one of them. Every time he gave birth he had to transform himself into a female form via magic. Most famously he was a mare when he gave birth to Sleipnir, but Odin also tells us Loki has taken the form of a human woman many times so he could sleep with men (and get pregnant) which suggests Loki likes sleeping with men but prefers to do it in the form of a woman (Loki then says Odin has done the same so he has no right to judge). Godmundr for example is called out for “being a man acting like a woman” because he likes to bottom so much but still in his male/intersex form.

And the stories are pretty clear on wether someone is a man, a man transformed into a woman, or a trans person. In one story we’re told Freyr’s house is filled with “men dressed and behaving like women”. Also the fact that Loki use his mother’s name as his last name could mean a million things. Maybe it’s because she was an Æsir goddess so he’d get more respect from the Æsir by taking her name. Maybe his mother was actually his father Fárbauti who gave birth to him. And maybe Loki isn’t intersex because he’s only half jotun.

It’s all just fun speculation but if jotuns were turned into a high fantasy race like elves and dwarves the mythology provides a ton of interesting implications about jotun biology.

#norse mythology #jotun #Loki #pregnancy #male pregnancy

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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months

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Aphrodesiacs Pt.6

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

i’m back i’m back i’m back!

NSFW 18+ as always

It was the same old story, same old Miguel falling in the continuous spiral of something that he has long past an issue. The further this continued, it felt like another mistake living deep in chest. But he knew that this was objectively the right thing to do. Miguel blocked your number and broke his phone.

His stance remained firm and exhausted in same old boyishly endearing Miguel fashion, Peter B was standing next to him or something, saying whatever remark or sly jab at Miguel’s signature silent brooding. He wasn’t paying attention, words fell on deaf ears and he seemed even more disinterested in everything that was being uttered to him. It was like phasing out was a pitiful second instinct. All he seemed concentrated on was you, your tender sighs and sweet lips he could practically feel wet as you breathed over the phone. You were very brazen that night, it was surprising and refreshing in equal tandem. He would shut your vulgar mouth with his cock instead, he’d slap your cheeks raw with it and then slap his tip against your tongue until you’re begging him to just shove it in.

“Miguel? Buddy, you listening? Are you high or something?” Peter snapped his fingers in front of Miguel’s unappeased and unkind face to drag him away from something he never thought he would be: unfocused.

“Stop bothering me. I’m busy.” He huffed in response, his body language radiating stress. He was trying to occupy himself with working on some new tech but he couldn’t get that right either. If anything, Miguel needed to be bothered. Peter looked unimpressed and continued to be a pest warmly, in true Peter quips.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re acting all floozy and whistful into the horizon. When was the last time you even left here man?” Peter groans and grabs his cheeks like a mother would do to a small child, inspecting him gratuituously.

“Peter. Come on stop it.” Miguel grumbled lowly, not wantingto snap at him at the fullest terrifying extent he knew himself to be capable of. Peter squeezed his cheeks harder.

“You’re so damn pale…you’re like a vampire.” Peter chuckled at the inside joke that everyone actually believed that Miguel was a vampire ninja, he felt himself lighten up a little at that but he chose not to show it. Peter gasps in faux horror. “That beautiful warm golden honey glow is fading away with every second you’re here in your batcave.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say, the only time he’s ever left HQ is to go home and when he couldn’t sleep, which was always, he came back. Failing himself and everyone around him miserably. His mood strayed at the thought, but it was true. He wasn’t doing any good here, he wasn’t doing any good for you but he couldn’t tell Peter that. No one knew what was happening to him, only you, Jess and Lyla.

“Listen man, you need to get out of here. And it just so happens you know a guy who is throwing a cookout at their place back on their dimension. I.E: me.” Peter crossed his arms and looked terribly impressed with himself and Miguel just raised an eyebrow already tired of his neverending theatrics.

“No.” He said simply but firmly.

“Yes.”

“No.” He said more firmly this time.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Miguel snapped his gaze back at him, looking slightly agited but Peter wasn’t the only one with balls, he groaned out frustratedly at his candor.

“The Mysterio anomaly last week took 20 years off my already fantastic life and I need a break from it, so do you man. Plus my wife is way more unkind and insistent than me so she’ll be back to pull you by the ear so consider me a friendly warning.” Peter looked irked as he tapped his foot, waiting for a response that deserved a punch in the gut.

Miguel was in a state of bewildered shock, all he could let out was an eye twitch. He was so frustrated with you, with all of this that his nerve endings were on the outskirts of thoroughly cooked and fried with boundless anger. Every day his patience was stretching and every day was starting to feel like a losing battle but he had to keep reminding himself: it’s for the best, it’s for your own good. He absolutely deplored thinking it let alone repeating it but at this point he was too far gone to not give up now. All he needed was for you to stay away from him. God knows what you’d do to each other. Peter was right though, Miguel had the same routine: HQ, fail to sleep, HQ, avoid. Was it so wrong puncturing the rhythm of this soulless cycle? If he can’t be around you he might as well distract himself im more carefree ways, and he might not even get the opportunity ever again.

Miguel let out a short agitated huff and let out a pitiful yet stern “Fine.”

“I’m so convincing, it’s actually the only thing I have in my repertoire nowadays.” Peter beamed lightly, full of himself as always.

“Wait. I have one condition.” Miguel cut him off, his face mixing between frustration and anxiety.

“Okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“Y/N can’t be there.” Miguel gaze was peneterating right through Peter, staring daggers into his face at the mere mention of your name. When he said your name he felt his mouth drawl back some drool, even saying your name had him salivating.

“What why?” Peter looked visibly confused at something so seemingly random. “I mean that’s gonna be quite difficult because her and my wife are actually the ones that are cooking for us sooo….No can do.”

Miguel looked like he got hit in the face with a brick, he was vacant and blank yet his eyes were slowly creasing, wincing at Peter for a split second and then groaning out in frustration, he almost sounded like a pained animal. God, this sweet torture.

“Lie to her. Make something up and get her to not go.” Miguel snarled poisonously, his true ferocity only showing just a fraction as it gleamed over twice in his eyes, Peter noticed it and decided not to press him further

“Okay.” Peter said hesitantly, attempting to sound cordial but he couldn't help but still be confused. This was all supposed to be for fun, he didn't want to randomly exclude people for no apparent reason. He couldn't argue with Miguel on it anyway, once his mind was set on something, Peter knew it was nearly impossible to knock it down.

Miguel's mouth went dry, his lips curled down into a crooked frown when he realized what he was about to walk into. Swimming was so pointless. Why the hell was he being coaxed into entertaining such petty things? He couldn't remember the last time he had relaxed or done something remotely fun, he used to think that working on new tech was 'fun', but now it was just a distraction to suck him out of the void of desperation. Avoiding it would be even more suspicious this time though, no one had properly seen much of him recently, and part of him wanted to see how everyone was doing. How everyone was doing without him. The thought shook him up. At least you won't be there to make him feel worse or lose any form of self-control. He was hoping it would be a breather from all this torment. It would go either one of two ways: fine or the absolute fucking worst. As always he would prepare for the worst.

Miguel arrived with a grimace he was trying to conceal, his weak smile when greeting Peter at the door was absolutely endearing and he hated it. He just had to remain calm for a few hours, show his face briefly, light conversation preferably about work and not leisure, he didn't need to grin he just had to bear it. Peter's house was in a quaint little suburb, Miguel threw his jacket in the bathroom and followed Peter when he led him to the back garden he was surprised to see that the pool was big and deep. Multiple Spideys were wilding out in it, having fun for once, not burdened by the consistent pressure to be a hero...like Miguel would put on them.

He frowned. And then his heart pulsated erratically.

Shit.

Of course.

Lord above save him.

Miguel's eyes scanned wildly around and then his gaze landed on you. His living breathing torment. You. Sprawled out on a sunbed, stomach down, kicking your feet as you drank in the golden sun, liquid rays pouring on every inch of your bikini-clad skin. God, it barely covered anything. Your back dipped and the curve of your ass was on full display. Miguel's face dropped into a mindless gawk, eyes wide and mouth agape, he swallowed when he saw what MJ was doing. She was rubbing your back down with sunscreen or tanning oil or whatever, he stood there looking like a complete idiot as he stared at you. You looked so blissed out, letting your eyes flutter as a lazy smile painted your face.

This was awful.

He was lying.

This was perfect. So damn perfect. A wet dream was written out in front of his eyes

His eyes then snapped to Peter, and an anxious yet irritated glare pierced right through him. “Why is she here?” Miguel gritted through clenched teeth. Peter just elbowed him playfully.

“Get your talons out of your ass and have fun man. Does it really matter? Wait did you...You and her-? Oh, you did that's why.” Peter chided, elbowing him in the bicep as if he uncovered the truth of ali of his schemes. “Hey man, I'm not judging you.”

Peter walked away chuckling and Miguel's gawk became even more apparent when you opened your eyes and they directly met his. When you saw him, you were sure you could've finished right then and there, eyes gleaming and wide and lips instinctively wetting. Why did he have to be so insanely hot? It's cruel and inhumane. He was wearing a grey compression shirt that fit him so damn tight and some black swimming shorts that made his thighs look beefy as fuck. You didn't even think he'd come, but obviously, Peter had to lure the snake away. You hadn't talked to him since you spoke on the phone and even then you promised you would go back to avoiding each other. He was just keeping that promise no matter how much it pained him. Especially in that tiny little bikini. The gaze you shared felt like it had been going on for hours, Miguel shook his head and grunted before turning his back to leave. This was a huge mistake. You looked so incredible it was making him lose it.

“Oh, it looks like Miguel got here.” MJ teased but you didn't even care enough to listen, you panted heavily and loosened out of her hold and rolled onto the floor and scrambled yourself up and practically rushed inside.

Pathetic and desperate didn't even begin to cover it at this point.

Miguel went into the bathroom to get his jacket, mumbling with a stern look on his face, that little v forming in between his eyebrows whenever he furrowed his brows. He quickly glanced in the mirror and took a minute to contemplate his purpose, he was sweating and the hair on his body stood to attention, it was the moment before being struck by lightning but a thousand times worse. He raked his hands through his hair, rubbed his eyes, and went to leave. When he opened them you were at the doorway. Getting closer to him. And then you closed the door behind you and leaned on it. Miguel just took and deep breath and sighed once your scorching gazes connected again. You could feel your bones going limp as he practically stared a hole into your face

He could see every dip and curve of your body, the thin fabric of your bikini covered so little but he already knew what was under it. He wanted to feel it. He needed to feel it. You had this confused aloof look on your face, a pretty pink stain on your lips and cheeks, eyes sparking with a sincere desperation that you couldn't hide when you were this close.

“Thanks for getting rid of the restriction on my watch, that was very philanthropic of you.” Your lips curved into a jagged scowl as you quipped sarcastically, and you crossed your arms like you were in a huff but Miguel wasn't thinking clearly.

“Thought we said we go back to avoiding each other.” Miguel raised an eyebrow at you. You were shining under the dim bathroom lights, the tanning oil that MJ put on you causing your skin to gleam and shimmer, your scent and skin were driving him crazy but he had to hold it together. It was all he had left.

You paused, taking yourself off the door and taking a few small steps closer to him.

“You know as much as I do that I wouldn't have been able to do that.” You whisper, blinking up at him.

“Don't give me that look.” Miguel averted his gaze elsewhere to the pale walls of the bathroom but like a magnet, his eyes always drew back to you. He was staring at your lips. Sweet yet cunning. Mesmerisingly calculating.

“Does it make me a bad person that I want to see you break?” You smiled slyly at him, half joking half not.

“Today's not that day.” He smirked, almost teasing you. It was like a second instinct, to butter you up and then leave you on edge. Miguel brushed passed you and you scoffed at his reply.

“Ouch.” You giggled dryly. “Fine. Let's manage then.” You rolled your eyes and he just let out a neutral 'hmm."

Miguel's hand went to the door handle and he tried to pry it open, not thinking anything of it initially but the handle wouldn't budge. He cocked an eyebrow, confused at his lack of strength. Then he tried again. It still wouldn't move.

“Ugh, what's taking so long? Open the door.” You groaned before turning around to see that he physically couldn't open the door. It was stuck.

"No. No. This can't be happening.” He mumbled with a strain under his breath, his eyes shot open and a confused look washed over his face, then it turned to anger. White hot anger.

“Move.” You grunted and then elbowed him to the side, the small brush of skin was enough to send sparks alighting under both of you. Ignoring it as per usual, you pulled on the handle, your grip tightened and even with all vour might it still wouldn't fucking open.

"Oh my fucking God.” Miguel buried his head in his hands and paced around as you continued to try and pry the door open, groaning and failing miserably.

“We're stuck in here.”

IM BACK FROM VACAY MORE CHAPTERS V SOON!

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#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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ayyy-pee · 9 months

Text

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Summary: You can run all you want, but Toji will always find you.

Story Warning: Stalker Ex-boyfriend Toji!!!, Threats of Violence, Shitty Date (literally), Smut, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Threats of Pregnancy omg, Possessive Behavior, No condoms we get plan b 'round here

Artist: Idk! But if you find out, let me know and I'll update my post

Your lips turn down in a frown, eyes widening as you swipe your mascara over your lashes one last time. You blink as you take in your appearance in your bathroom mirror for the last time, slipping your mascara wand back into the tube and twisting it tightly shut.

You have a date tonight.

The first one you’ve had since moving to Sendai from Tokyo. You met him at your new accounting job. He’s nice, a little boring for your usual taste, but he’s exactly what you needed to date. Someone your age. Someone with their life together, and someone who isn’t fucking crazy. And god did you need the not crazy part.

Your ex was an older man who seemed to have it all together when you first met. Things were easy with you two. He worked a job that required a lot of travel. He supposedly worked for the government, never asking questions because every answer was a stern “It’s confidential”. And that was fine. You didn’t need to know what he did for a living as long as he was good to you, and he was at first.

Two years of dating and everything was going well…save the bouts of jealousy and possessiveness your ex sometimes let slip. When he wasn’t making sure to watch your every move, monitor any man who spoke to you, he was fantastic. Loving. Doting. Funny…All of the things you wanted in a partner. It was just when his jealousy reared its ugly head, it became everyone’s problem.

He never hurt you physically, no. He would never. But that didn’t apply to anyone else within your vicinity.

It was flattering at first, how he’d lose his shit just at the sight of you with another man. But then it became too much. Breaking up with him didn’t work. He’d just show up wherever you were, telling you he loved you, that he can’t do this life without you, to give him another chance and he’d be better. And every new chance always ended the same. With some random man on the floor with a bloody nose after talking to you at the bar, your ex looming over him, jaw tight, nostrils flared with anger and you storming away.

You thought dating an older man was going to be different, that you wouldn’t be dealing with the same childish shit men your age would put you through. But apparently, age didn’t make a difference. At his prehistoric age, your ex proved that wasn’t the case.

He was never going to change.

No matter what you did, he was never going to leave you alone.

You soon realized your ex was more than jealous and possessive. He was downright insane. You remember what it was like every time you broke up, the vicious grin he would wear after ruining one of your nights out, chasing you down until you gave in to him…and then he was ruining you back at your apartment.

And you hated yourself for that. How easy it was for him to break down your walls with little effort. How easy it was for him to get you to forgive him. He didn’t have to do much. He just needed to show up, tell you sweet nothings and you were putty in his hands, opening the door to your life for him…And your legs.

It’s why you moved so far across the country. The further, the better. You’d blocked his number, packed up and didn’t even tell your closest friends where you were going. You needed a complete revamping of your life. Because you loved him too much to resist him if he ever showed up again.

With a sigh, you check your makeup and dress one last time before you head out. You’re going to the movies. It’s a simple date. Doesn’t require you to do too much, but you want to make a good impression. It’s your first date since moving to Sendai and you deserve to have a normal date for once.

When you arrive at the theater, you’re immediately hit by the smell of butter and the sounds of kernels popping in the machines behind the concession stand. Your date is already waiting inside with popcorn and your tickets. He flashes you a bright smile, tells you you look beautiful tonight and you feel your cheeks warm beneath his gaze. It’s a little weird to be out with someone new, but isn’t that what you wanted?

He’s nice. Give him a chance.

The attendant checks your tickets and points you to your theater. You climb the stairs, glancing down at your ticket to ensure you’re on the correct row, right in the middle of the theater. The perfect view.

Your date sets the popcorn down between the two of you. “I heard this movie is really good.”

“Me too,” you nod, reaching into the tub of popcorn at the same time as your date. You both smile shyly at each other when your fingers touch, grabbing a handful of popcorn just as the theater lights dim and the movie begins.

- - - - - -

The movie blares in the back of the theater, the music building to a crescendo as some action scene reaches its climax. But that’s not what the man at the top of the theater is watching as he shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. No, there’s a much more interesting sight in front of him, right in the center of the theater.

You.

Who gives a fuck about the movie when he has a perfect view of you?

Well, of you and the fucker sitting a little too close, whispering in your ear any chance his gets and slipping his arm around your shoulder.

He wants to march down and kick your little friend in the head, splatter his brain across the floor. But he’s off the clock. A random body to clean up wouldn’t look good for him and it definitely wouldn’t increase his chances of getting back to you. And that’s the goal here. To get to you. So he has to be patient, like he has been all this time.

He could always barge into your new place and make you talk to him. He could always call your phone even though you blocked his number and changed phone providers. That’s lightwork for him, child’s play. And he wants to have some fun before he makes a move.

Emerald eyes watch in the darkness as your date leans into your ear to whisper something, your shoulders shaking slightly as you laugh. It almost makes him break his promise to bide his time, watching that man put his lips so close to your soft skin.

The skin he misses running his large hands over. The skin he misses kissing, running his tongue over. The skin he misses admiring after coating it with his own release. Fuck, he misses you more than anything. He’d damn near lost his mind after realizing you left Tokyo, up and gone in the middle of the night without so much as a word. Not even your friends knew where you’d gone. And he would know if they were lying.

But now that he has you in front of him, he’s determined to never let you go.

Your date leans over to whisper once a-fucking-gain in your ear and his jaw tightens, teeth clenching so hard it makes his head throb. Your date stands, heading for the stairs, leaving you alone in the theater to watch the movie. There’s too many people around for him to approach you so soon. It’s not the right time, but he has an idea of what he could do until then.

The man in the back stands, casually following your date down the steps and out the theater door. Your date is an idiot, not even aware for a second that someone is behind him and closing in on him quickly. The easiest prey he’s had in awhile. Green eyes watch as he turns into the bathroom and he follows after silently.

Your date closes himself into the further stall, the largest and takes a seat on the toilet.

Even better. Out of sight.

The man doesn’t sense any other presence in the bathroom as he enters the stall next to your dates and stands atop the commode. He peers down boredly as your date sits, toying with his phone. Clearly he was going to be in here for awhile anyway, but now it may seem he won’t be returning.

“Got any good games on there?” The green eyed man asks, smirking when your date practically jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone with a loud crack.

“What the fuck, man?!” He shouts, face red with anger. “Get the fuck outta here, fucking freak!”

“I’ll cut to the chase.”

Your date fixes him with a look of confusion.

“Leave your date.”

Your date looks even more confused. The green eyed man rolls his eyes, sighing with annoyance. He grits his teeth. “Leave. Your. Date. Go home, forget you met her.”

Now your date’s red face has returned, his anger rolling off of his skin. “Fuck off! Get out of here or I’ll call security, you fucking weirdo!”

The man sighs again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He tried to be nice. He really did. With ease, he hops over the wall of the bathroom stall, landing before your date, one foot smashing his phone into pieces. He digs the heel of his foot into the device for good measure, the sound of glass scratching the floor filling the space between them.

And then he’s leaning over, meeting your date at eye level, green eyes glaring into his wide and terrified ones. “Leave. Your. Date. Or you’ll be lucky to leave this bathroom with only your phone crushed in.”

He can see the way your date trembles, the sweat beginning to bead along his forehead and above his lip, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a loud gulp before he nods silently.

A large hand comes up to pat his cheek, tapping it lightly a few times. “Smart kid,” the man says before standing straight. “Don’t even think about calling security either or you won’t make it out of the theater in one piece.”

He turns, kicking the door to your date’s stall open before waltzing out and heading back toward the theater. He ascends the steps, bright eyes locked on your form as he squeezes past the other moviegoers on your row to get to you.

He takes the seat next to you, slipping an arm around your shoulder and loving the feeling of you snuggling in closer. He leans over, lips pressed to your ear as he asks, “What’d I miss, sweetheart?” And he revels in the way your body tenses in his embrace, trying to pull back but he holds you to him.

“Toji –”

“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during the movie.” Toji reaches into the tub of popcorn you and your date were sharing, offering you some. You shake your head in refusal and Toji shrugs, shoving the handful into his mouth.

- - - - - -

The movie flies by, your stiff body held by Toji the remainder of the film. When the lights turn back on, he holds you there until all the other guests have dispersed. When the last guest is gone, he looks at you, a wide grin stretched along his face.

“Missed y–”

You shove his arm off of you, brushing past him and hurrying down the stairs. Angry would not be a strong enough word to describe what you’re feeling right now. Maybe irate. Enraged. Incensed. No, still not enough.

You push out of the theater doors, Toji hot on your trail. Your eyes scan the empty halls, seeing no signs of your date who you noticed after Toji’s arrival just happened to never come back from going to the bathroom and grabbing a quick drink. It’s like he vanished into thin fucking air.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Toji pleads, grabbing hold of your arm and you snatch yourself out of his hold.

“Don’t sweetheart me, Toji. What are you doing here?” You hiss and you hate the way his stupid pretty green eyes hold mirth in them. Like he’s enjoying that he’s made you mad. “What did you do?”

Toji’s smile widens more if that’s possible, the crescent scar on his lips only becoming more prominent. “What do you mean?” He asks innocently.

You shoot him a glare. “You know what I mean. What did you do to my date this time? Knock him out in the bathroom? Drown him in Dr. Pepper? Hang him upside down from the roof until all the blood rushed to his head and he died?”

Toji hadn’t even thought about the last two, but he takes mental notes…for research.

He shrugs, though. Because he didn’t do any of those things. “I didn’t touch him.”

You stare into his eyes, getting even more pissed because you know he’s being honest. “Then what did you do?”

He steps towards you, holding his hand out. “Nothing bad at all. Can you really blame me if your date’s a flake? Maybe he just doesn’t appreciate you the way I do.”

You peer down at his hand, rolling your eyes as you turn on your heel and storm down the hall. You leave the building making a sharp turn around the corner towards your car. This dumb ass theater only has one entrance and exit which has to be a fire hazard, you think. To get to it, you have to go down one of the alleys down either side of the building.

Your feet carry you down the alley, Toji’s hurried steps rapidly catching up to you. His hand catches your wrist, turning you to look at him. You don’t pull away this time, knowing the more you push him away, the harder he’ll try to get closer.

“Hey. Hey, stop. Please,” he pleads and in the darkness of the alley, beneath the soft glow of the moon, his green eyes shine brightly. You have to close your eyes so you don’t immediately fall back into his hold. The second you look into his gaze, you know you’ll be his again. You shake your head.

“Toji, please. I left to get away from you. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m not doing anything, baby,” he says softly. “I just don’t understand why you’d leave without even saying anything.”

He genuinely sounds hurt. You do feel guilty, but you needed to do what was best for you and your life. Toji would ruin any chance you had at happiness with anyone else if given the chance. He would have never let you have a life in Tokyo, but here you were hundreds of miles away from the city…and he still won’t let you be happy if it’s not with him.

“You know why, Toji,” you breathe softly. “I can’t keep doing this jealousy thing with you. You just…get too crazy. Look at tonight.”

“Okay. That’s fair, but tonight, I really didn’t do anything. Your date broke his phone and I just…suggested he go hurry and get that fixed.”

Behind your closed eyelids, you roll your eyes because while that may be somewhat true, it’s not the whole truth and you know it.

“Still, Toji–”

He cuts you off, his other hand coming up to hold your cheek and you melt into his touch just like you knew you would. It’s annoying that literally closing yourself off to him does nothing because every part of Toji is your weak spot, crazy as he is.

You open your eyes to gaze up at him, those beautiful eyes of his peering into yours and you know you’re done for.

“I came all this way to see you, baby,” he rasped. “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”

You did. Fuck, you did miss him. You know that makes you an idiot to miss his crazy ass. You ran away from your entire life, from everything you’d known to get away from him and now that he’s standing right in front of you, your body is reacting in a way you couldn’t resist even if you tried. You know you should move, step away from his hold, but you don’t. You can’t.

Weak. Don’t do it!

It feels like you have an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other. Your brain is screaming at you to not give in to Toji, to turn around and leave him standing alone in this alley. But your heart is screaming for your brain to shut the fuck up.

You nod, inhaling deeply before sighing, giving in because you always knew you would. “I missed you, too, Toji.”

You don’t know why you miss him. Is it the excitement that comes with being with someone like Toji? Is it the way he wants you and only you even to the point he’d practically kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe even actually kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe you’re just as crazy as Toji – but you’re his all the time.

A small smirk curls at the corner of Toji’s lips, his other hand releasing your wrist to cup your other cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Toji leans forward and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you, your head tilting up to meet his lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he runs the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of yours over and over, letting out a shaky breath before he presses his forehead to yours.

“I might’ve threatened to crush your date's head in in the bathroom while he was taking a shit…” Toji confesses suddenly before he presses his mouth to yours.

This might’ve pissed you off before, but now, Toji’s confession goes straight to your core and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His hands tilt your head so he’s able to have more access to you, to take everything you have to offer like he always does.

The kiss heats up in no time. Toji grunts as your tongue tangles with his. Your hands come up to grab on to his shirt, tight as ever, bunching the fabric tightly in your fists. Toji steps back, guiding you to the wall of the alley, his kiss growing feverish, desperate. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips forward when he presses his hard body against yours.

Toji breaks the kiss, panting as he drinks in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips, that damn dress you’re wearing that’s keeping him from the rest of you. His fingers glide down the side of your face, along your neck and down your chest. They ghost over the swell of your breasts, over your nipples and he stops, running his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardening peaks, smiling to himself when your back arches off of the wall. He lets his hand continue their journey wandering down your form under he reaches the hem of your dress.

Then he feels his jealousy begin to crawl up his throat. He can’t help it when he thinks about you wearing this pretty dress for someone else.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, though the venom is dripping from the word. “You wear this for that fucker in the theater?”

Wide eyed and maybe a little dazed by the sudden change in attitude, you nod. Toji fists the hem of your dress, tugging the fabric gently.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you wore it for him?” He wants to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you gulp, heart thumping against your ribs. Not in panic, not in fear…but in excitement. “Yes, Toji. I wore it for him.”

Toji hums to himself…and then a loud shredding noise fills the empty space of the alleyway as Toji absolutely destroys the fabric of your dress. Heat pools in your core immediately, a soft gasp rushing past your lips. His hands come up to your waist, spinning you around. He presses his body against your back, your front pushing against the wall of the alley.

“So sweet of you to dress up for him,” Toji breathes as he leans down, running his nose along your neck, inhaling your scent. “Hope you had fun tonight.” His hands find the remnants of the hem of your dress and he pulls it up, bunching the fabric up at your waist. Then his hands are running along your body again, against your bare ass, brows lifting in surprise when he feels the thin line along your waist.

“Oh? A thong, too,” he hums, his voice sending chills up your spine. “Looks like you were planning on having fun tonight. Weren’t you?” You nod, but Toji clicks his tongue. “Words, baby.”

You yelp quietly when Toji brings his large hand down on your exposed cheek. The loud smack echoes through the alley. “Yes,” you say breathlessly. “Yes, I was.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad your date left you then.” He tells you, and you can hear the fake pout coating his words.

Toji toys with the band of your thong before he hooks a finger into the band and easily rips the fabric of your underwear, too, and you think you’ll be lucky if you leave with even a single piece of clothing on after he’s done.

“I’m gonna touch you now. That okay?” He asks, because even through his jealousy, he’s a gentleman…sometimes.

“Yes, Toji.”

Toji presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, you’re so good for me.” He slips his fingers between your folds, hissing the moment he feels your slick coat his hand. “So damn wet for me already. I’ve barely touched you.”

“Toji, please,” you whimper when his fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive nub. It’s enough to make your skin ignite with chills, but not enough to bring you even a little closer to the edge.

“I’m a little upset with you, you know?” Toji tells you casually. He slips one of his fingers into your cunt, grunting when your walls immediately squeeze down on him. “Fuck, you thought you could take this sweet little pussy and run away, huh?”

He pumps his finger in and out of your hole slowly, torturously. Your legs are trembling, hands pressed against the wall as you bite down on your lip to keep quiet. You’re in the open, getting fingerfucked in an alley. It would only take one person turning the corner for you to get caught literally with your pants down.

Your brows knit together as Toji keeps up his pace, leisurely adding another thick digit into your pussy. The coil in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every pump of his fingers, with every quiet squelch of your pussy.

“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing me like this,” Toji groans from behind you. “Wish this was my cock.” You whimper, pushing your hips back against his hand. “You want that, sweetheart?” He coos, curling his fingers into that spongy sweet spot that brings tears to your eyes. You gasp, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts, riding his hand.

He continues, “Yeah? You want my cock to stretch this tight little pussy, huh? Want me to fill you up like I used to?”

“God, yes! Toji. Fucking fill me up, please, please,” you beg, reduced to a teary mess against the alley wall.

Toji chuckles, stopping his ministrations and you wait for him to start again, chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. When you feel his fingers leave your core, you damn near feel like sobbing. You hear his zipper come down, feel his cock springing against your ass and the stickiness of his precum smearing against your asscheeks.

He leans forward, a hand resting next to your head as he whispers into your ear, “You ready for me?” Then he pushes forward, his thick cock stretching you wide open for him. It burns in the most delicious way, but you still whine quietly. And it makes Toji pause.

“Tapping out already?” He chuckles, kissing the side of your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, baby. How many times have we done this? You can take it, right?”

“I can take it, Toji,” you mewl softly. “I can take it.”

“Good girl.” Toji nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn your head on instinct, your mouths connecting as Toji pushes forward, his cock slowly filling you. You pant into his mouth as his length stretches you open him, makes you accommodate him until he bottoms out, a deep groan leaving him.

The weight of his cock stretching you is enough. The moment Toji hits your sweet spot, your walls convulse, your orgasm catching you off guard just as a couple of patrons are walking past the dark alley. Toji puts a hand over your mouth, muffling your moans as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He doesn’t move…his gaze locked on the couple as they stand at the end of the alleyway talking to each other and laughing. They’re none the wiser to the way your pussy is clamping down so hard on his dick he could cry. It feels too good and he doesn’t have the patience to wait for them to fuck off. He’s been waiting. He’s done with that.

He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back, hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness and then he rolls his hips forward, hard. You cry out into his hand, eyes squeezed shut as Toji watches the couple from afar.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear, do you?” He taunts.

Them?

Your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision clearing enough to see a couple at the end of the alleyway. Right when you see them, Toji pulls back for a second time before he slams into you again over and over and over, grunting roughly into your ear as you both watch the couple at the end of the alleyway deep in conversation.

You pray they don’t come your way. You pray they turn around and go back the way they came…And some sick part of you prays Toji fucks you even harder because something about being so close to being caught has your arousal absolutely dripping down your thigh, coating Toji’s cock.

“You like this, huh?” Toji groans. “Hiding in plain sight, getting fucked like a slut? This is new for you.” He slams into you again, bottoms out into harder and harder, his hand squeezing down over your mouth to muffle your cries.

“This is why I love you so damn much,” he grunts, pressing his cock as far into you as possible before pulling back and doing it again. “You’re perfect for me, made for me.”

The couple at the end of the alley finally walks off, going the opposite way. The moment they’re out of sight, Toji releases your mouth, letting you cry out for him freely.

“Fuck, Toji!” You moan as he pounds into you with reckless abandon.

“Did you think…” he groans, hands coming down to squeeze your ass as he fucks into you. “There’s anywhere on this earth you could run to…” he’s panting, squeezing your ass so hard you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. “Where I wouldn’t find you?”

You’re keening into the open air now, taking every fucking harsh thrust Toji gives you. You press your forehead to the wall, feeling that familiar coil building up again, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re mine, fucking mine, sweetheart. I’ll always find you,” he grits, dragging his lips against your cheek, pressing possessive and wet kisses along your face and neck. “You could never run from me.”

He bottoms out again, his slick balls slapping hard against you, muttering, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fucking fill you up, put a fucking baby in there so you can never leave me again.”

There it is. The jealousy. The possessiveness. The craziness that you fucking love. And that’s all it takes for that coil to snap again. Your release crashes over you as you scream Toji’s name out, not caring who hears. He thrusts into you hard, fast, grunting, kissing your face sloppily until he pushes his cock into you as far as he can go. You feel him cum before he says he’s cumming, the warmth of his release filling your pussy, painting your pink walls white.

Toji buries his nose into your hair, trying to catch his breath as you both come down from your highs.

You’re an idiot.

You tell yourself this as you come down from the high of your back to back orgasms.

You’re an idiot…And maybe just as crazy as the man you ran away from in the first place.

Toji pulls out of you, tucks his cock away back into his pants and spins you back around. Toji places a wet kiss on your lips and takes your hand in his.

“Let’s go home.”

#toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #ayyypee answers #toji smut #toji drabbles #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #anime smut #anime x reader

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omen-of-ice · 4 months

Text

DEMO || FAQ || PINTEREST

The North has been all that you’ve known your whole life— residing within its icy landscape as part of House Eirlys; Wardens of the North. You’ve never thought you’d one day leave to head south to Vela’thian— the kingdom of the elvhen— much less that you’d head there due to your betrothal with the king himself.

What will await you once you arrive? Is everything as it seems? Or is there something more brewing beneath the surface of the seemingly pristine nation?

Will you find your way back home? Or will you find something, or someone, worth staying for?

Let’s see how your story unfolds…

❄️ Play as the youngest heir to House Eirlys that’s been arranged to be married to the Elven King. Explore the wondrous world of Arlatha and the great elven nation of Vela’thian and its capital Ilyransari! You’ll meet a variety of characters, uncover plots (varying levels of angst), and potentially find love along the way! This game is rated 18+ for depictions of explicit language, alcohol consumption, potential sexual content, violence/blood, and death.

❄️ Customizable MC: name, gender, appearance, sexuality, hobbies, and some skills. (You can choose to not be attracted to men and tell Daeron, the king, this, don’t worry.)

❄️ Bond with your Lycana— a winged wolf that’ll stay with you until death. Customizable: name, gender, and fur color.

❄️ Explore Ilyransari and learn more about the fantastical world of Arlatha!

❄️ Meet a variety of characters— from reclusive dwarves to hotheaded goblins— that’ll bring unique experiences throughout your story.

❄️ Learn more about your own shrouded past and how you came to be where you are now. Will the truth finally set you free?

❄️ Keep in contact with your older brother— Kaladin. He’ll want to know how you’re doing.

❄️ Romance one of characters from your potential betrothed himself— the Elven King— to an orc commander that takes everything a bit too literally or a creature from the depths of the Vesperion Sea. Or maybe someone else will catch your eye.

❄️ Remember, above all else, to have fun!

Daeron [M] — The King — High Elf

The Elven King himself, a man known far and wide for his prowess in battle and resilience in the face of almost insurmountable odds. You’re not sure why he chose you to be his betrothed— after all he must have received hundreds of requests over the years— but you were instructed to not look a gift horse in the mouth; not when an ally like him would help your family and people immeasurably. With a hardened exterior, from years of battle and sacrifice, Daeron isn’t someone that’s easily accessible in the emotional sense, but you can’t help but notice how his eyes begin to soften every time you enter the room. Will something real begin to grow between you?

Daeron stands at around 6’3” (190.5 cm) with a warm beige complexion. Raven black hair falls across his forehead in gentle curls, a delicately crafted crown always situated atop them. His golden eyes, that seem to rival the sun in brilliance, are filled with a cunning intelligence; he has a toned physique, still holding a lithe quality that all elvhen seem to possess.

Larak [M] — The Commander — Orc

Seeing an Orc within Vela’thian is like seeing a starless night; it happens, but it doesn’t make it any less of an odd occurrence. Not after centuries of war between the Elven Nation and the Infernal Plains. Larak, however, seems to have taken his position in stride, ignoring all the looks he receives without a backward glance. After all, what is an orc to do without his clan? Especially one that was well on his way to becoming a chieftain of his own? Will you give him a reason to stay?

Larak stands at around 7’2” (218.44 cm) with a green complexion. Dark auburn locks are shaved on either side of his head, while the rest is kept in a long ponytail that falls down his back. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and brute strength— his most prominent feature, barring his sharp canines, being the twin scars running down his chest that pairs well with the one through his left eyebrow.

Calypso [F] — The Wanderer — Siren

The Vesperion Sea is an anomaly to most within Arlatha; for a creature from its watery depths to appear means one of two things. 1.) Something bad is about to happen. or 2.) It’s a pilgrimage of sorts that a few depth-striders take up every other decade. Meeting Calypso it’s easy to tell which one she is; her general amazement at the world around her being something that’d warm even the most hardened of hearts. With a desire to learn, and an aptitude to do so, she tries to take everything in stride, observing Vela’thian, and it’s inhabitants, with an ardent fervor that would be quite off putting in any other circumstance. Will you uncover things together?

Calypso stands at around 5’1” (154.94 cm) with a dark brown complexion— iridescent blue scales intercepting the expanse of it across her forearms, collarbone, and sparsely across her legs. The sea green of her gaze complements the deep royal blue of her hair beautifully— the voluminous curls falling down to just beneath her shoulders. She has an hourglass figure.

Shanaera [F] — The Spymaster — Dark Fae

The Royal Spymaster within Vela’thian, Shanaera is the longtime friend, and closest advisor, to Daeron. There isn’t much information about the early life of Shanaera— something she’s gone to great lengths to keep that way— and she’s rarely seen enough by the general populace to get a concrete opinion on. Keeping to the shadows, only appearing in court once in a blue moon, and with walls of ice surrounding her, it’s unsurprising why she has the reputation she does. A woman that’s just as deadly with her words as she is with any blade or poison— getting on her bad side isn’t a smart idea… But is it even possible to get on her good one?

Shanaera stands at around 5’11” (180.34 cm) with a sun-kissed complexion. Locks reminiscent of woven sunlight falls down to her hips in a cascade of gentle waves and soft curls— the strands bringing out the luminescent quality of her amethyst colored gaze. Grand wings of iridescent black are situated on her back, giving her elegantly slender body a broader appearance.

Fáelán [M/F] — The Best Friend — Wildling

You met Fáelán when you were ten years old during a winter ride with your family— something you had done dozens of times before— coming across their slight form underneath a snow drift, after your horse almost trampled them, wasn’t something you had been anticipating, but they haven’t left your side ever since. Not even when they had been offered an escort back to the village deep within The Thaeg; an ancient forest that covers over half of The North. You were best friends from that day onward— one never seen without the other. After all of that, should you truly be all that surprised when your self-appointed guard decides to come along to Vela’thian?

Fáelán stands at around 5’8” (172.72 cm) with a light gray complexion. Strands of hair, the color of which reminds you of freshly fallen snow, fall down to just beneath their shoulders in messy waves— usually kept in a intricate braid— pairs well with the deep crimson of their gaze. Their toned body is a far-cry from the scrawny individual they had been when you first met them— an intricate tattoo making a home on their right arm.

Valerian [M/F] — The Exiled Heir — Draconian

Tales of the land across the Vesperion Sea tell of the grand opulence of Edras— home of the draconian; dragon-kin. Valerian isn’t exactly who you’re expecting when imagining the royal family of Edras, but at the same time they seem to fit right in. With a smile that never reaches their eyes fully, a voice that never has to raise to be heard, and a presence that could command a legion, they bring a slew of questions and very little answers. Why were they cast out? Why are they in Vela’thian? And why do they seem to always find themself in your company? Will you be able to uncover any of these answers?

Valerian stands at around 6’6” (198.12 cm) with a fair complexion. Crystalline blue eyes seemingly burn with a fiery intensity— despite their icy coldness— which brings out the argent quality of their silver locks; M!Valerian keeping them down to his shoulders and F!Valerian keeping hers to her mid-back.

#omen of ice #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interact if #no demo #high fantasy #dashingdon #hosted games #choice of games

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sfehvn · 6 months

Text

home

Description: Astarion left twenty years earlier, after defeating the elder brain, in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. Tav has not been coping well. A/N: A little angsty, alcohol abuse and Tav being overly-sexual in hopes of feeling some comfort in Astarion's absence; if you aren't comfortable with that you may want to skip this one! Also eludes to Tav being a sorcerer elf, but nothing is explicitly stated. Enjoy! :) Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,438 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

The gnawing sensation that remained deep-seated in your gut had all but dwindled. Nights filled with booze and meaningless sex did little to appease the hunger that twisted your insides viscerally. That damned vampire had only been in your life for but the slightest fraction. Somehow, he utterly rewired your brain's chemistry in such a minuscule time frame.

“So that’s it then? You’re leaving after everything we’ve been through. Just like that?” The bitterness that dripped from every syllable was palpable as you spoke. An air of disgust and heartbreak hung between you and Astarion.

He remained silent, the cogs of his mind turning while his face remained unreadable. “I will return for you, Tav. I swear it. I must do this alone.”

The scene dissipates into the back of your otherwise empty mind. You had waited. Waited patiently for the return of your lover; spent years willfully ignorant to the fact that he had wholly left you. Two decades came and went before the realization sunk into the essence of your being. He was just gone. The many conquests that filled your bed were always reminiscent of him in at least one way, though you were never able to quench that desire. A white-haired man sits before you, telling fantastical stories, no doubt with the intention of bedding you. You would let him, of course. As he speaks, hands moving with a pristine emphasis of his tales, you can only discern the differences from your once-lover. His locks share the same silver hue but are much too short compared to Astarion’s. Soft tufts of curls are nowhere in sight; the stranger’s hair is pin-straight. The longer you listen to him speak, the more you coin him a prick. The ego wasn’t far from your lover’s, but it was without the redeeming charm you had grown to love.

Despite all of this, you would still follow him to bed, or perhaps a latrine is more this man’s prerogative. Either way, you hoped you could squint your eyes just enough to forget the differences and see a glimpse of Astarion instead.

“Riveting as this conversation is,” You cut the stranger off, and your hand sits on his arm seductively. “I speculate we may get on better in private. Naked.” The pungent scent of alcohol is unmistakable. If it were a decent man before you, he may have chivalrously rejected your advances for fear of taking advantage. This was no decent man, though; he proves it by taking your hand in his and standing from the bar. You had been right about the latrine. He props you against the wall in the outhouse and has his wicked way with you. Your mind is numb as he pounds mindlessly into your mound. You squeeze your eyes shut, and try as you might, your lover is not present in the moment. Instead, you feel dirty, used, and ashamed.

You allow the man to finish, as it only took him a measly two minutes. You had counted. You didn’t bother faking your own orgasm. This one didn’t care. You adjusted your dress until its hem fell to your ankles. “When can I see you again?” He asks. You brush past him wordlessly. His shameless contention is not lost on you as a distasteful ‘bitch’ elicits from his mouth. You pay your tab and start your trek back home.

“Why, though? We’re a team! I told you I’d help you find a cure, Astarion. Please don’t leave me.” Painful tears sting at your eyes, once filled with so much sunshine and radiance. There had even been a touch of naivety to you at that time in your life.

“I don’t want you to.” Astarion was sharp, pointed with his words. “You deserve a break. Months of leading a group of brain-wormed buffoons; you need it. It won’t take me long, and I will be back. I’ll always come back for you.” He reiterates.

The possibility of death was not unfounded. The bitter truth was brutal to swallow but did not subdue your anger. If death were his fate, you could have saved him as you had many times before. It was entirely preventable if the case; he was just too stubborn to see it. Radiance of wealth exuded from your residence; nothing but the best for the hero of Baldur’s Gate. You scoffed. How trivial these things were when you did not have a soul to share it with. Your friends had all gone their separate ways, aside from Wyll and Karlach, who had come to find a happy union together among their time spent so closely in Avernus. Gale had forged a family with a lovely lady from Rivington and now had two children barely into adulthood, himself somewhat up there in age. Lae’Zel wasn’t the best at keeping in touch, but last you had heard, she was off kicking ass like always. Surprisingly, Shadowheart visited you as regularly as she could, but that was still seldom.

All of your old traveling companions had gone on to do great things in their own ways. You were happy for them, you really were, but it’d be a lie if you didn’t admit there was some part of you that envied them. Envied the fulfillment they found within themselves, in the love they discovered in other people. All you had to show for yourself was a house too big for you alone to maintain and, admittedly, a bit of a drinking problem. You grumble as you fight to get the key into the lock of the front door, eager to wash the escapades from earlier off your body.

You slink into the tub's warm water, allowing the liquid to engulf you as you stare at the wall absently. What would you be today if Astarion was at your side? It was a question you had asked yourself a million times over. Probably not the calloused person you became. Not living off of any alcohol you could get your hands on, certainly. Recalling the abandonment made a lump rise in your throat, and you quickly choked it down. No, you would not spill another tear for the man who had left. You would not.

You couldn’t.

You stare at the nearly empty whiskey bottle across the room, but you are sure there is at least enough for a little glass left in it. You refrain from pulling out of the tub with the sole purpose of pouring that glass and instead scrub your body clean. Relief floods over you once you’ve successfully washed off the remnants of the stranger. His seed had stuck to your stomach like a paste when he pulled out, and the way it dried and tightened over your skin had made you want to vomit. You only exit the round tub once you’ve washed your hair. With your silk robe tied loosely around your body, chest exposed, you make a beeline for the whiskey glass that had been teasing you from across the room. A sigh of contempt leaves your mouth when a single drop drips out into your glass. You recap it and debate tossing it, but decide that will be a problem for future you. You take the candle that lit the washroom and shuffle into the hall, holding it far enough in front of you to provide adequate light through the long, dark corridor. The sound of creaking floorboards halts you in your tracks. The sound did not come from beneath your feet, but instead downstairs. Your ears strain in an attempt to make out any other noises. Another creak this time closer to the bottom of your stairs.

You blow out the candle and a quiet incantation for darkvision leaves your lips. There was no fear, whatever sorry bastard chose your home to break into would surely change their tune once they’re at the other end of one of your spells. Suddenly more alert and prepared for whoever emerged, you felt yourself sober as the adrenaline coursed your veins. As quickly as you’re able to make out a faint silhouette bounding up the stairs, another hymn leaves your lips.

“Ignis.”

A firebolt protrudes from the palm of your outstretched hand, bounding quicker for the stranger than they can respond. A searing sounds as it bores straight through the uninvited guest’s clothing, sizzling with now charred flesh. They groan in agony, the silhouette clutching at their injured chest. “You’re quite lucky I like a good chat, or you’d be dead already. Who are you and why are you in my home?” Your voice was unwavering and void of any emotion other than conviction.

“Well, I’d be lying if I say I’m surprised. I do suppose I set myself up for this one, darling. Always the sharp-shooter, you are.” The man attempts a laugh, but it’s lost under the pain in his voice. That voice.

His voice.

Forgotten under a sea of other voices, but you place his cadence immediately. You want to run to him, feel the way his arms fit so naturally around your body, let your lips fall upon his. Your first instincts are quickly replaced with anger. Betrayal. You wanted to hurl another firebolt at him; hells, a fireball would’ve been better but you bite it back. You were angry, but becoming homeless after burning your home down was not something you were prepared to deal with. With a small flick of your wrist, you light the sconces that line the hall and you’re met with the illuminated sight of Astarion. He looks not a day older from the last time you had seen him, dare you say he looked even better.

There’s a tinge of color to his flesh, like he’d been kissed by the morning sun many days over. There was a pink hugh to his skin, reminiscent of fresh blood pumping from a beating heart. Your own skips a beat at the picture of him before you. He was alive. Alive alive. Gone are the ruby-red eyes you had grown to love, replaced with eyes as golden as fresh honey shimmering in the light. You chew the inside of your cheek in an attempt to fight back your tears. Your face remains unchanged despite the flurry of emotions assaulting your brain and heart. “Why are you in my home?” You repeat, as if you had no recollection of the man before you.

Astarion’s features reflect the hurt that he feels from your reaction but quickly he masks it. “Not exactly the welcome-home I was imagining, if I’m telling the truth. This is quite the place you’ve got. I’m pleasantly shocked at how well of a job you did decorating, dear. Though I will probably have to make a few adjustments-”

“Twenty years.” You whisper incredulously, cutting Astarion from his rambling stupor.

“I’m sorry?”

“Twenty years, Astarion!” You shout. You’re no longer able to hold back the floodgates in your eyes. They prick unforgivingly, threatening to pool over onto flushed cheeks. “Twenty years you were gone! And here you are, acting like nothing happened; acting like not a day has passed since we’ve last spoke!” You wipe the tears from your face, angrily laughing that your emotions had betrayed you so. “You don’t even know who I am anymore and you think for a second I’ll allow you in a position to hurt me again?”

Astarion is taken aback by the furious passion that laces your every word. The wound he had been nursing with his hand is abandoned as he attempts to step closer, but you take a swift step back. “It had to be done, Tav. The journey to get where I am today was an arduous one. One that I was not willing to ask you to take with me.”

Your jaw clenches, and there’s no time to collect yourself before you respond. “You didn’t have to ask. I told you I would have followed you through the hells if it meant being with you.” You practically spit the words.

“I wouldn’t allow that.”

“Gods, Astarion! Are you so dense that you don’t see it wasn’t your decision to make regarding what is best for me?” The venom is thick in your tone. “Maybe I would be some semblance of the same person you abandoned all those years ago if I had at least gotten to say goodbye. Perhaps if you had sent a letter I’d be a little more forthcoming with you right now.”

“It was not my intention to abandon you.” He quips back, but sees it was the wrong thing to say as the fire burns brighter behind your eyes. “Against my better judgement I guess that is what I did. Only because I couldn’t fathom saying goodbye to you. I-” He pauses for a beat. “I thought it may make things easier on you, too.”

The laugh that leaves your mouth was a chortle, filled with malice and sarcasm. You grasped for anyway to hurt him in the way he hurt you, “Well you ruined me, Astarion.”

“I did not, you look-”

“Looks are deceiving. I would figure you know that by now. For example, just by looking at me you probably can’t tell I drank my weight in whiskey today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.” You purse your lips. “You probably can’t tell that I allowed a bastard of a man to open my legs and fuck me simply because he shared your hair color just earlier in the evening. Or that a tenday ago I fucked another man who’s laugh almost made me believe you were there. Only for a moment, of course.” There was shame in your words and you wanted to cry harder as you voiced all of the ways you had failed to care for yourself. The desire to make him feel what you felt was too great. You wanted him to hate you the way you had grown to despise him.

His arms pulled you firmly against him, his head ducking to bury his face into your wet hair. You soften under his touch, allowing yourself to go limp as he holds you. Guilt eats at Astarion’s subconscious as you cry into his shirt. It didn’t matter if you tried to push him away. It didn’t matter what you had done to cope with his absence. He was home and he was going to prove to you that he was not going anywhere ever again. Everything he had gone through in the past twenty years, he had powered through with the thought of making it home.

You were his home.

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion x reader #tav #reader #ascended!astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #x reader

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belit0 · 9 months

Note

hello!! how are you?? i really like the way you write and i wanted to make a request 🫂 (only if you have time) where the Uchihas react to a drunk reader, she doesn't recognize them and they tell them that the leave her alone because she has a boyfriend, he's the best in the world and things like that (i hope you get the idea 😭).

remember to take care of yourself, drink water and rest!! 💞

I hope I got it right 👻💕

You too nonny, take care of yourself💕

Also, HC revealed, Shisui is into CNC play🙌🏻

Indra

- First of all, why (Y/N) is drinking? Women don't drink. Second, who the fuck is this oh-so-nice boyfriend? It takes him a while to realize she's talking about him, because in his head they're already married and about to start a family. What do you mean boyfriend? Her beloved husband and future father of her children, more like? He is not even a little bit amused, but helps her gently get into bed so she can go to sleep.

Madara

- Girl... girl! How he's going to laugh at her in the morning... Madara takes advantage of the drunkenness to get everything she thinks about him out of her, and loves to hear all the wonderful qualities of her "beautiful boyfriend the Uchiha king." If this is what she genuinely thinks of him, he eats up every second like it's a sweet cake. He continues to serve her alcohol only to see what her limit is, and helps her when (Y/N) ends up throwing up.

Izuna

- He's just as drunk, and says the same stupid things. It's only the next day when he looks at his cell phone and sees all the videos they both recorded he realizes the idiotic speech they both had. Just as (Y/N) was telling him to stay away because she has a boyfriend, he was telling her the same thing, rambling on about his beautiful girlfriend and all her qualities. Hilariously fascinated by the loyalty they both have for each other.

Obito

- He gets jealous of himself. Yes, it's great to hear how his girlfriend talks about this fantastic man she's dating and living with, with whom she shares everything, but he hates how he wants to give her a kiss or a hug and finds himself rejected by his own woman, WHILE SHE DESCRIBES HIMSELF! Obito decides to never let her get drunk again to this extent, and helps her with a cold shower because he can't stand her rejection anymore.

Shisui

- He takes full advantage of it to tease her. Shisui's ears are sweetened by every word of appreciation and glory his girlfriend chats about him, but he also likes the role of the bad boy who tries to make her cheat on him... with himself? The Uchiha will judge his woman's willpower, but not negatively, but because he enjoys every attempt (Y/N) makes to get away from him, yell about her beautiful boyfriend, and tell him he doesn't even look like him?

Itachi

- Aw man... When Itachi realizes the level of inebriation his girlfriend is carrying around, he respects the space she's asking for, but with a bit of irritation. He has such a good tolerance for alcohol, practice, drunk people make him desperate, more so if it's his girlfriend, even worse if she won't let him get close because of her boyfriend (him). He'll go along with the story, put up with the ridiculousness, but they'll have a talk in the morning about it.

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consistantscreaming · 1 year

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I'm relistening to The Magnus Archives, and I made a list of Actual Canonical Details we as a fandom forget about

- sasha gets coffee from a specific coffee shop every morning

- Jon has an excellent sense of direction

- canonically in artifact storage there is: a wardrobe light cannot penetrate, a carved rock eye that interferes with the video cameras and therefore is kept in a black velvet bag, and a scalpel ride with disease no matter what they use to sterilize it, kept in a hermetically sealed plastic box

- during halloween week, they have to call in the archives as backup due to the influx of statements. jon canonically gets a good nights sleep after disproving these statements.

- Jon sincerely believes he is far too unlucky for statements to just be a hallucination

- Not-sasha asked not to be recorded multiple times

- when told he benifited from gertrude's death, jons only response was "...I didn't?"

- [daisy became police in ~2002, almost 15 years before the story starts...meaning she is canonically late thirties/early 40s

- even when compared with the paranormal, daisy considers car accidents worse

- mary keay made an eye pun "i know the institute and i haven't always seen eye to eye, as it were"

- jon noticed when ghost hunt uk stopped updating

- sasha is taller than not-sasha

- annabelle dresses like a vintage clothing store exploded on her, has bleach blonde hair and dark skin

- annabelle looked "like the type of person that talked to cleaners as if they were actual people"

- annabelle looms over the cleaner by almost a full foot, meaning she Tall

- "the moment i die will feel just the same as this one" is not just a georgie thing, it's an End thing in general, as proved in ep 70

- not-sasha tends to stay late

- martin worked at the institute in 2009

- micheal has curly sandy blonde hair

-micheal is tall

- melanie and jon are on the same wavelength, and when working together they both came to the same conclusions with the same evidence

- elias does not think daisy is smart

- georgie is observant, and pays attention to peoples behavior

- melanie thought jon killing someone with a pipe was "wildly out of character" for him

- georgie and jon have a mutual friend named Jess who thinks Hungarian food is "too Soviet"

- jon borrowed georgie's coat when he went to meet jude perry

- jon tells jude to kill him as an ultimatum every five minutes

- elias tells tim that when presented with horrors, he finds comfort in beaurocrocy

- jared hopworth is handsome with cheekbones and a jawline to die for

- georgie was canonically willing to cover for jon to the police with no context after an unpleasant breakup and after no contact for almost 5 years

- georgie grew up poor in liverpool, and had a scouse accent until she went to oxford

- basira is a huge nerd and will talk about what she's reading to anyone who will listen

- nikola makes an allusion to not having a face

- martin and melanie got along fantastically

- georgie told jon that he needs anchors

- "if something happened to you, or-or god forbid, The Admiral, I-"

- "Don't be a Stranger." georgie thinks she's funny

- michael had a childhood friend who was taken by something like michael (schizophrenic) and that's what drove him to the magnus institut-he never you over what he saw or didn't see

- Hannah is a black woman who works in the library, had a "Thing With The Milk In The Breakroom" in april 2016. Went on maternal leave to have a baby in June of 2017.

- elias enjoys scheduling

- martin zones out when he has to read a statement, and often takes little notice of his surroundings when doing so/about to do so

- martin was looking for a book called "marvelous spiritualism and the circus in tge 19th century" and a guy named tom said tim had it checked out

- danny and tim didn't talk much, but were still close

- Abigail Ellison-who tim calls abby- is a mutual friend of tim and danny's from "back home"

- tim shipped danny and abby

- out of the two of them, danny was more assertive and tim "had never been able to stand in the way of his confidence"

- tim has a big armchair, a printer, and a couch

- melanie has made everyone in the archives cry

- [basira loved wtg until it "took a weird turn in season 3" when they introduced something she thought was odd

- melanie, basira, and martin used to go out for drinks, and martin and basira were gossip buddies

- Melanie's dad had dementia relatively young, but he always remembered her. He called her "Little Moth", and her mothers life insurance helped pay for him to be put into Ivy Meadows Care Home-where he was killed by the Corruption at the hands of John Amherst before Julia and Trevor burnt it down.

- julia is in her early thirties and wears nondescript hard wearing denim

- jon thought that reading statements could be a classical addiction, but decided that even if it was he had no time to, as he put it, "experiment"

- Peter was surprised that elias killed people kimself-implying elias has people to do murders for him. what other murders did he commission

- martin and basira both noticed something wrong with melanie after the Elias Incidint when her work started to deteriorate-martin said she'd always been "quite conscientious"

- right after being told by basira that standing by with a cup of tea wasnt enough, when melanie entered the room Martin immediately offered her a cup of tea.

- Martin knocked over a stack of papers and defended himself by saying that they shouldn't have been there. the absolute madlad

- after micheal stabbed jon, jon told martin he stabbed himself with a bread knife; and martin then proceeded to A) believe him and B) not trust him with anything sharp after that

- Gerry didn't care abt what happened in the unknowing bc he's a book. jon asked if he was serious. Gerry responded that he was, in fact, dead serious.

- gerry teases jon by saying he doesn't know anything before rescinding that statement avd giving the vaguest hint possible. he's such a dickhead i love him

- gerard didn't trust gertrude-he wanted to, but she reminded him of his mother

- gerard called trevor and julia "the van helsings"

- gerry was jealous of lietner bc his mom paid so much attention to them

- mary haunted gerard for 5 years before gertrude destroyed her, and gerry cried with relief when gertrude gave him back the destroyed book

- before the unknowing, daisy was running around killing mannequins and other Strangers

- tim didn't think they would be able to stope the unknowing

- jon would rather have tim where he could see him-which is why he let tim come (guilt guilt guilt guilt GUILT GUILT GUIL GU

- basiras dad couldn't stand people who passively whined about their problems. he always said "If you don't like something, you accept it and you adapt, or you fight, and you change it. Whining doesn't help."

- Melanie was depressed before the unknowing

- jon rambles about his latest insights and melanie wants to punch him.

- martin: "it felt good, weaving my own little web." "Also, i get to burn some stuff, so that's cool"

- basira was the one to suggest that they not tell Melanie they were doing surgery

-Daisy made jon listen to the Archers. "I hate it. but it feels... good, to hate something that can't hurt me"

#the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma #jon sims tma #martin blackwood tma #basira hussain #alice daisy tonner #melanie king #georgie barker #sasha james #not sasha #tim stoker

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doctorbeth · 1 year

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Muttsys

Have you ever seen muttsy dogs? I may have talked about some here. Most are a tannish color, about 15" long, with faux suede pawpads. They look like they're reaching their arms up to be hugged when they are young. They're never really plump... they're a skinnier breed. Well, today I thought I'd tell you the story of a Muttsy dog from Canada, with a bonus at the end of a giant Muttsy (the biggest I've seen at least) who went home last week.

First up, Joey the Muttsy from Canada. He was a pretty typical muttsy in size and shape, though no animal is typical in memory or history, and Joey was no exception there. Every animal holds the memories and stories of their person or people.

Here are Joey's diagnosis photos:

As you can see, he had some significant balding on his back and pawpads, a bit of balding in front, and quite a bit of weight loss from stuffing compression due to age and hugs. His person is one of you dear readers, and she was starting to worry about him.

Now given the localization of his balding, some people opt for fur transplants just on bald spots. But Joey's person felt, after 35 years, he deserved a full spa and a full new coat of fur, to make him sturdy and clean and plump and fluffy again. So that was the plan. We scheduled an appointment and he flew down from Canada.

The first step was the spa, so he of course had a bubble bath photo:

I think he kind of looks like he's doing a doggie paddle here. :-)

Once he was dry, it was time to choose his new fur. I wait till after the spa so you can see the fur in comparison to his own fur in a clean and as fluffy as possible condition. There were a couple of options:

His human opted for the slightly darker fur. I went ahead and started restuffing and recovering him. Of course he got a heart preserving a bit of his original stuffing. I like to think the hearts help them hold all the memories:

Now as I mentioned, Muttsy style dogs usually have a faux suede or faux leather (or sometimes real leather) footpad. Joey's surviving footpads showed they weren't real leather original, so these were the options for the soles of Joey's feet:

His person went for the faux suede. Here he is, all better and once more reaching out his arms for hugs:

Joey flew home to Canada, and his person wrote:

He just got home! Looks fantastic, thank you so much for your careful work!

But I did promise a bonus at the end of Joey's story. The largest Muttsy I've ever seen in the hospital.:-) This Muttsy is named Mutsie, and she is 28 inches long, 38" including her tail, which is also stuffed!

You can see her here next to her warm blooded sibling, which gives you an idea of both her size, and the compression of her stuffing and flattening of her fur which were concerning her person:

She was in pretty good shape otherwise, so her person was looking for a spa for her. Here she is starting her bubble bath:

Of course she got a heart with some original stuffing when she got restuffed:

And here she is getting her chubbiness approved: clean, stuffed, fur fluffed but with an open seam to adjust as needed:

Her person said:

Yes she looks perfect! It's so nice to see her all cleaned up and refreshed, thank you so much!

So I closed her up and she flew home to Arizona (in a much bigger box than she arrived in, because she was so much plumper and fluffier!).

#stuffed animal hospital #stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal cleaning #gund #gund Muttsy #toy dog #dog #stuffed dog #stuffed animal #stuffed animals

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books-and-omens · 9 months

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Okay okay, so I really want to talk about S2 Crowley.

I’ve been thinking about who Crowley is in the book and who he is in the show, and the gap is significant. (@tbutchaziraphale has fantastic meta over here which I think is spot on.)

Book!Crowley is an optimist, yes? I mean, we’re outright told this:

“Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times—he thought briefly of the fourteenth century—then it was utter surety that he would come out on top; that the universe would look after him.”

Honestly, what a thing for a fallen angel to believe! And to me, it’s powerful, yes, but it never quite answers the question: where is he getting that certainty?

Tv!Crowley, in the meantime, is emphatically not this. He’s never been an optimist, not even in S1—although in S1, it might have been easier to look at A & C and consider them essentially similar to their book selves if a little out of sync.

In S1, Crowley gives the whole “don’t test them to destruction” speech. He cares about humanity deeply, even if he won’t admit it. He will try to stop the Apocalypse.

And there is still a moment when he feels helpless. When he has no innate optimism to carry him through, no deep belief in the universe looking after him or anyone. When his instincts tell him to run, and he tries to follow them. When he despairs. Aziraphale pulls him back out of that despair; they make a stand together. As we know, it works.

But the thing is, the thing is. I find tv!Crowley’s lack of optimism so very relatable.

I find despair so very relatable, too.

We live in an age of deep anxiety. (Climate change, anyone? Just for starters! The promise and wonder of the Moon landing and the end of the Cold War are far in the past; day to day, we deal with the effects of capitalism, of reactionism, of continued exclusionism. It’s far too easy to feel helpless.)

So in S2, Crowley is very much the same character as he was in S1, except we see it even clearer.

He is not an optimist. He wants to run; he wants to escape when faced with Gabriel’s arrival; he wants to protect Aziraphale and himself, and believes that the best—perhaps only—way to do that is by them retreating as far away from the problem as they can.

In Heaven, Crowley finds out about The Second Coming. His need to escape and to keep his angel safe become overwhelming. But he doesn’t tell Aziraphale about the Second Coming, does he? And his repeated offer to run away together doesn't even make sense to Aziraphale. (Not that Aziraphale would want to run if he knew. Quite the opposite, in fact, which Crowley must know.)

Anyway, Crowley already knows that the clock is ticking. Aziraphale is about to find it out. (Do you notice how often, in the last fifteen minutes of S2, we hear nothing in the background but the ticking of a clock?)

And just—the despair, the desire to retreat and escape when you are faced with overwhelming odds, with a fundamentally broken system, are so relatable.

And yet escape has never been the answer.

I hope, of course, that this is what we’ll see in S3 if there is a S3. Crowley deciding, emphatically, that running away is not the answer.

We didn't get there yet. We were dropped out of the story at the darkest point.

But I think being at this point is precisely what makes Crowley’s confession at the end of S2 transcendent.

Because it’s the same conflict, isn’t it, except on a personal scale. Despair in the face of overwhelming odds, followed by the decision to not give up.

Crowley, who’d been ready to confess, sees what is likely to happen. He sees the way the deck is stacked against him, sees that he is unlikely to get through. He feels the coming loss.

And then he does it anyway.

He confesses anyway. He says what he has set out to say, gasping and clawing for every word. He does it at the point when everything appears lost.

And no, we don’t see the effects of it, not yet. We don’t see what he has launched, the hook that sank into Aziraphale, the change it has wrought in Crowley himself.

But his bravery won’t be lost.

We live in a dark timeline. I maintain that this is precisely what makes this story so compelling.

Be brave. Do the difficult thing anyway. Do it anyway. Do it anyway.

Even in the face of overwhelming odds. Especially in the face of overwhelming odds. While not being an optimist in the slightest.

This is what hope is.

This is what we have to do.

(And to all of us who’d lost a comfort story: I’m so sorry. I, too, am still grieving for it. I know, I know.

Emphatically: all is not lost.)

#good omens #good omens season 2

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 months

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Binary Star

Part I

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

____________

He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.

If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.

Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.

"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.

What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?

It got him so fired up he actually started studying.

"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."

"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"

"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."

To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.

Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.

But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.

The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!

When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.

If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.

It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.

But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.

Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?

He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?

How could she just... vanish?

He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.

Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?

In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.

"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."

Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?

"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."

Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.

__________

He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.

Part II

Tags: @minshookie29

#yandere #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk satoru

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mxtxfanatic · 27 days

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Just saw someone make a post about how Hanguang-jun was “beefing” with a child (Jin Ling), and while the response I saw to it was fantastic—pointing out how Jin Ling was a spoiled brat who was constantly, knowingly putting others in danger and Lan Wangji served as one of the first adults in his life (the other being Wei Wuxian) who actually disciplined him for his unruly actions in order to teach him to be a better person—it made me think of something I never really took notice of: Jin Ling is afraid of other adults.

Now, obviously Jin Ling isn’t afraid of all adults. He’s unhesitant about bossing around the adult Jiang disciples when his uncle isn’t around. He treats “Mo Xuanyu” very disrespectfully until Wei Wuxian puts him in his place. He’s fine with yelling back at the adult rogue cultivators whose lives he’s endangered. But he reacts to Hanguang-jun as if Lan Wangji is going to kill him (or Fairy) for stepping out of line. Why? There are two reasons for this: 1) Jin Ling is afraid of adults that his uncles will not protect him from and 2) because he has not had any positive examples of care or discipline in his life, discipline, in his mind, carries an inherent threat of violence.

Let’s discuss point one. Outside of Lan Wangji, every adult listed above has been successfully suppressed by either Jiang Cheng or Jin Guangyao, Jin Ling’s uncles. The Jiang disciples are under Jiang Cheng’s control. The rogue cultivators are cowed by the threat of Jiang Cheng’s Zidian. Mo Xuanyu has been expelled by Jin Guangyao with the full weight of the Jin Clan behind him. So Jin Ling, the nephew who they allow to run wild, has nothing to fear by disrespecting them. However, Lan Wangji does not fall into this category. Lan Wangji is the younger brother of Jin Guangyao’s sworn brother, and as the uncle who does not step in to protect Jin Ling from violence, Jin Ling is well aware that Jin Guangyao would likely not side with him if he crossed Lan Wangji. At most, he would play peacemaker, as he does to discourage Jiang Cheng from reprimanding Jin Ling in his presence. This only works for individuals who care about reputation, though, and Lan Wangji is no such individual. That leaves Jiang Cheng as the only one who could potentially suppress Lan Wangji, but immediately upon confrontation, Jiang Cheng backs down from conflict and instead chooses to throw Jin Ling under the bus, probably for the first time in the child’s life. Neither of his powerful uncles will defend him against this adult, and this adult, himself, is unafraid to run afoul of Jin Ling. This, then, leads to the second point.

Jin Ling has only known violence as a form of discipline. It is notable that neither of Jin Ling’s uncles discipline him when he is in the wrong for his actions: Jin Guangyao coaxes Jin Ling while deflecting criticism while Jiang Cheng encourages Jin Ling’s bad behavior…except when directed at himself. Thus, let’s remove Jin Guangyao from this “discipline” conversation. What does Jin Ling know of Jiang Cheng’s discipline methods? Well, he whips first and asks questions later. He belittles Jin Ling with verbal abuse and resorts to physical violence against his nephew when under stress. He runs his sect with such an iron fist that his disciples are afraid to tell him things he does not like. Jin Ling has never known him to be anything but cruel and cold. And if we take into account how both the Jin and Jiang clans treat outsiders, we see that most situations of disagreement or discontent end in violence, with the Jiang and Jin as the ultimate victors. Therefore, with these stunning examples of “discipline” from his childhood guardians and their clans, it is no wonder that Jin Ling fears what being “disciplined” entails from the hands of an adult that neither of his uncles will fight for him against.

It is perfectly reasonable—in the most tragic of ways—that Hanguang-jun terrifies him at the beginning if the story. This is why the introduction of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian into his life was imperative: Jin Ling got to learn that discipline—be it criticisms or reprimands—is not inherently violent and thus was made safe enough by his two unlikely mentors to listen to them in order to transform into the better person he is by the end of the novel.

#mdzs #human metas mxtx #it always struck me that jin ling’s immediate thought #to getting caught by hgj allowing fairy to run around biting people #was ‘he’s gonna kill my dog’#not ‘he’s gonna tell me off’ or ‘he’s gonna tell my uncle(s)’#but ‘he *is* gonna kill my dog’#with full confidence that this is just a thing that normal adults do to people who annoy them #absolute red flag for that kid’s entire childhood #example 18374728474 that jin ling’s childhood was abusive

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lafiametta · 29 days

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should i watch shogun

Short answer: yes.

Long answer: Shōgun is simply great television. As a historical drama (especially one focusing on an incredibly eventful and complicated era), it succeeds not only in telling a good story but staying true to the realities of the time period. The performances are fantastic: Cosmo Jarvis and Anna Sawai hold their own as a marooned English sailor and his stoic translator-turned-lover, and Hiroyuki Sanada is completely mesmerizing as the embattled warlord Yoshii Toranaga (inspired by the historical Tokugawa Ieyasu). (Seriously, he can speak volumes with just a tiny quirk of his mouth.) Plus, it's got something for everyone: intrigue, betrayal, power politics, a clash of cultures, earthquakes, Cosmo Jarvis getting naked almost every other episode, men being torn apart by cannons, and an exquisitely angsty romance. Last but not least, it's visually stunning, as evidenced by all the beautiful gifsets floating around after each episode. So, yes.

#shōgun #shogun 2024 #shogun #shogun fx #fx shogun #ask and answer #anon asks #seriously anon go and watch it #you won't be disappointed

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taylormarieee · 1 month

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Co-Stars turned Lovers A Callum Turner love story

Chapter 1: "Welcome to the Beginning"

Pairing: Callum Turner x Fem!Bestfriend!Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.k

Warnings: Kissing for like 2 secs, none really

You and Callum were the best of friends. Every Interview didn't feel the same without the other. You and him first starred together on Fantastic Beasts: Crimes Of Grindelwald and you bonded ever since.

You loved him so much and he loves you just the same. You were always spotted around LA together, always around in photos in Paris or New York to the point rumors went around that you guys were dating.

That wasn't the case at all. You were filming a new show and it took place in Paris and sometimes New York, so you constantly had to fly back and forth and you felt alone at times.

So you always invited Callum to which he happily obliged when he was free. You booked a hotel for however long you stayed in that place and always ordered a room with two beds.

One for you, and one for Callum. He was your favourite person in the whole world as you were his. He enjoyed your company and you felt as though you couldn't live without his company.

You had separation anxiety so you always felt sad when he wasn't around and would drive or fly as many hours as it took just to be with him. He was your Earth and you were his Moon. Without you he felt as though his world wouldn't spin anymore.

Without him you felt as though you had no purpose in life. Your sole purpose was to orbit around him, be around him as much as possible. You couldn't breathe without Callum.

But there were times where you had to just thug it out and do things on your own without him. He had a life too and you didn't want to seem like that annoying friend that seemed as though she didn't have a life and was just constantly around him.

There were times you will distance yourself from him if it meant you didn't seem or look annoying. But Callum of course, the sweet soul that he is never minded you clung to him 24/7. He enjoyed it actually, it made him feel appreciated and loved.

You gave him attention like crazy and he was a mama's boy. He loved feeling your validation and feeling as if he was wanted. He was drawn to you and you were drawn to him and this was the beginning of a love story you both never anticipated. The beginning of a story you both would soon realize was fate and destiny, the universe bringing you two together.

~ Welcome to the Beginning~

"Welcome to the late late show, I'm your host James Corden and I would like to welcome out our lovely guests."

Everyone in the crowd cheers and your giggling with Callum and Austin. You were so excited to be on the Late Late Show with THE James Corden. You loved James Corden.

"Gosh why am I so nervous!" You nervously giggle and look at Callum and Austin. "Maybe it's because you love James?" Austin says with a smirk on his face. It was more of a statement then a question.

"Y/n Y/l/n, Callum Turner, and Austin Butler!" He screams out and that's your cue for all three of you to walk out. You smile and wave at all the lovely people that have come out to see you guys.

Because your the first one out because the boys decided ladies first, Your the first to give James a hug. You laughed as he gave you a big loving hug. You sat down and waited for the boys to sit.

Austin sat closest to James and Callum sat on the opposite side next to you. So in shorter words, you sat in between the two.

"Welcome Welcome!" James says happily. "It's lovely to have you guys on the show." He says.

"Well were happy to be here!" You say with a dashing smile on your face.

"Alrighty let's get started shall we? Y/N! You are a beautiful amazing woman and an even more amazing actress! What was it like to first get into acting? Who were your role models and people you would have liked to tell that they inspired you to act?" He asks.

"oo that is a wonderful question. I found it quite easy and hard at the same time. I was a very dramatic kid, as my mother would say" You say with a chuckle, the audience chuckles as well.

"And it just made things easier. But at times I was very forgetful so it was hard to remember some of my lines, but being a kid actor who's just starting you realize that the adults working with you aren't going to be harsh because your a kid, you know? So that really helped because Adults have a big impact on kids cause your taller, seem more intimidating. But no yea, it was very easy. And my role model growing up I would have to say was either Leonardo Di Caprio or Will Smith. I really liked The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

Everyone claps at your answer and the queit down the moment James talks, "That's a wonderful answer. I love that! Now Callum and Austin, I heard you guys went to boot camp training for Masters of the Air. What was that like? Training to just be really hot and outlook people like me?" When James maks that comment you burst out laughing and the whole crowd laughs too.

James really had a way of making jokes and making people laugh. Austin and Callum laugh as well.

"That's what I've been saying James! There both incredibly attractive and I feel like that boot camp didn't give them any training except how to make other men feel bad!" You say through laughs.

James grabs your hand and laughs with you. "Right! At least I have someone to back me up and not call me insecure, Thank you!" He says.

You nod and smile at him before letting Austin and Callum answer. "Ugh well no it was a very fun time of training to outlook other men! No I'm kidding. It was very fun and felt so real, and when you really see the work we did on the big screen it's like, woah I didn't think it would come out that good. Cuz you know behind the scenes were goofing around and having little to know clue what's gonna happen next so yea it was a huge roller coaster." Austin explains.

You nod and give out a hum of approval and look at Callum, "Do you have anything to add on to that?" James asks.

"Nope, I mean I would have said it just like that. It was very fun and having y/n on set? Oh it was never a dull moment when it came to her. We all had a lot of fun." He says. You smile and look back at James.

"Alrighty, let's get to the juicy stuff!" James says smiling. You face fall and you mutter out an "Oh no." And the crowd starts laughing because you forgot that the mic's pick up everything.

"Why oh no y/n." Your face lights up with surprise and you cover your face in embarrassment.

"Because I know exactly what the juicy stuff is! So, to answer your question, no me and Callum are not dating Mr. Corden!" You say with a laugh at the end.

"Wow! Do a lot of Interviewers ask you that question?" He asks.

"yes, everyday!" You and Callum say at the same time. "I promise you were just really good friends who hang out alot because one of us has separation anxiety from their comfort person." Callum says motioning towards you.

You laugh and then hit his arm playfully. "I'm filming between Paris and New York so you'll spot me with Callum alot because sometimes I get lonely so of course I'm gonna bring my best friend!"

"Yea there was a few times she brought me but I guess paparazzi don't see us or they do and just don't ship me and her together." Austin defends.

"Ok ok, so well then that question is moved over, completely erased."

After that the interview, you, Callum and Austin decide to go out to eat. You chose the restaurant, you always did. You never wanted to because you were always indecisive but you eventually chose a place and you guys went to dine.

Sadly, Austin couldn't stay with you guys as his girlfriend called and needed him home for something urgent. Something about her cutting her hand. You both said your goodbyes and wished she was ok before sitting and ordering.

This was the night you realized your true feelings for Callum Turner...

This was the night you would never forget... The night it all happened and was brushed off as a mistake.

"Callum... today was so exhausting. I hate when people ship us, I mean I don't hate James, I'm just tired of getting asked that same question over and over again! Aren't you?" You ramble on about today's earlier events.

"I mean, if i'm being honest... I don't care. Me and you both know were best friends so why bother entertaining it." he says as he leans closer to you from across the table.

"Unless of course...You wanna deny the fact that you would ever date me? Do you not love me or something?" He teases with a smirk on his face.

That. That right there is what started it... What started your feelings and the electricity that shot down your spine.

"N-No that's... that's not what I'm saying or i-implying Callum!" You say nervously. You were never nervous around Callum.

"Mhmm yeah...sure." He says still leaning forward even closer to you know. 'Maybe he's intoxicated' you thought. He was never this straightforward with you or even this flirtatious with you.

You guys were drinking in the car but not heavily. His hand reaches your cheek and you giggle nervously. "C-Callum what are you doing?" You ask nervously.

"I'm feeling your face duh! What else would I possibly be doing..." He says. You notice he's not making eye contact with you but more so your lips. You lick them nervously and you see his eyebrow raise for a second.

He leans in just a little closer whispering a "God your so beautiful" before he kisses you. Your eyes are wide and you melt into it. He quickly breaks away and apologizes before you could even kiss him back.

"Oh my lord, I'm sorry... i don't know what came over me. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable that-that was a mistake." He says before rubbing his face with his hands.

"I-It's ok Callum. I'm not uncomfortable. Let's just eat ok?" You say with a sweet smile to hide the sadness in your face from him. He sweetly smiles back at you and you both indulge.

That night was a night you've never forgotten but what you were completely oblivious too was that that night was unforgettable to Callum too.

He thought about that night everyday he looked at you... everytime he touched you... everytime he sees lip gloss coat your full lips.

It plagued his mind like a virus corrupting a humans mind. He wanted you badly but he knew he couldn't have you. He couldn't ruin this relationship he had with you, this beautiful friendship, but goddamn were you addicting.

you and Callum were polar opposites yet destined to be together...If only you two could open your eyes and see what is right in front of you.

You and him were made for each other, you just needed to find each other. Like two lost souls searching for a purpose. Like the Earth and the Moon, they look platonic but one can't live without the other. Destined to fall in love either way.

Love, fate, and desire... Something you two need to give into in order to find yourselves.

Taglist: @dustbunniess @willyoubemycherryy and anyone else that wants to join!

#my man <3 #callum turner #Callum #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner major john bucky egan

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