#you can see the weight of the world on his face

[ghouljams]

Genuinely cant stop thinking about Viking!Ghost... like you know he's pining after you, you can see the softness in his eyes when he looks at you, the way his gaze follows after you. He left you his cloak, sewed the fang you gave him into his leather, and went out of his way to see you before he left for the last excursion. You tend to keep to yourself, never really thought of family or husbands until he started coming around. Now all the excitement with your friend having her baby left you wanting, left you thinking of the giant Viking that's so often darkened your doorstep. He'd make pretty babies. You don't need to see his face to know it.

But he dances around you, he steps back when you try to step forward. He leaves when you threaten to get too close. And you- you find yourself shying away from the gentleness in his voice. Find your cheeks warm and your voice unsure when he reaches a hand to brush dirt off your cheek, when he adjusts his oversized cloak around your shoulders. His eyes always hold a warmth you've never found in another person, he's careful with you despite his size and it sends your head spinning. You've never been shy a day in your life, but for him... You see the wolf's fang on his leather and look away to cover your smile. He caries you around the world, but he hardly speaks a word to you. It makes your heart flutter.

You thought it would be harder to convince him to come in, to stay for dinner. He casts an unsure glance over his shoulder, watches the setting sun before nodding. You find yourself stalling when he pulls his mask off. Blond hair and honey colored eyes, your hands slip on the edge of the table when you lean to get a closer look. No one has ever called you proper, but it makes the lines around his eyes crease. Ghost pulls you onto his lap so eagerly, doesn't shy away from the fingers that trace over his cheeks, that sweep over the scars and his carefully closed eyes. You study him with such rapt fascination, and he leans into your touch.

You've never seen such a clean shaven Viking. It cuts his features so much more clearly, the lines of his mouth the hollow of his cheeks. He needs someone to feed him properly, you think. A good reason for you to keep him as your own. You mouth along his jaw, dragging your tongue over the shadow of a beard he keeps so neatly trimmed. Ghost's fingers tighten on your hips, dragging you against his swiftly hardening cock. He tips his head back following the dominion of your shadow as you straighten your back and lean against his broad chest. There's just a ring of gold when he opens his eyes, his iris eaten away by his pupils at the barest of your attentions.

He looks at you like you've seen the Völva look at the stars, with some understanding you'd never hope to gain. Eyes that have seen the gods. His lips part and you kiss him to hide the tremor in your resolve.

You don't feel quite so much like you're taking advantage of the man's kindness when your face is buried in the blankets, moans ripped from your throat as he pins you down and fucks you. Each hard thrust of his fat cock punching a new sound from your chest, lost in the mattress and furs until his hand wraps around your throat to pull you up. His lips find your temple, the shell of your ear, his breath panting against your cheek as he fucks his come into you. He pulls you up, lifts you to sit on his thick thighs as he pushes his cock into your sensitive cunt. The hand not holding your throat, keeping your head against his shoulder, spreads wide over your stomach. He rubs his thumb over the soft skin, squeezes you like a promise. Like he could keep you wrapped up with him for the rest of your life.

You blink tears away, each thrust using your own weight against you, forcing you to take him deeper until your legs shake from the tight heat of it. His tongue drags along the fresh bite on your shoulder, the edges of it red and throbbing, perfect impressions of his teeth. You flinch at the wet slip of blood, at the groan that seems to wreck itself on Ghost's vocal cords.

"Ride my cock love," his bloodies lips mumble against your ear, "show me how bad you want it and I'll keep you nice and full."

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost x you #f!reader #oc: goose #viking au #viking!ghost

[kaiser1ns]

𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: hope still exists even if it makes you forget for your problems just for a while.

╹content :: BLLK MANGA SPOILERS FOR KAISER BACKSTORY!

╹notes :: something quick i wrote but fell asleep before i posted it, will probably be edited tmrw morning! i love kaiser sm he deserves the world !!

There he was again at the children's playground alone sitting on the ground, playing with the ball as he threw it at the graffiti wall making it bounce back. It was the same old story to be outside, away from his father and the smell of alcohol, even for a few hours — he just wanted the freedom and peace that every child deserved.

It was very hard, to be constantly accused and beaten for the smallest thing, because his mother that he resembles so much is no longer with his father, but instead now is a famous actress who lives in luxury and glory, and his father has become an alcoholic, an abuser — a monster.

Sighing, the boy threw the ball harder, and it went behind him, his gaze still blank, despair overpowering hope in every part of his facial features: eyes, smile, voice. He is just a kid, just a mere kid who wanted nothing but to have a normal life and family, to have a loving and caring father and to have a mother who is present in his... But sometimes dreams don't come true and we have to get used to the fact that we won't have everything we want. Lost in thought, lost in his own world without a care in the world, he didn't feel someone tap him on the shoulder until it started annoying him.

It was pure reflex to turn around and cross his hands infront of his face. Reflex that did nothing but to save him from the upcoming question, "Hey, is that ball yours?"

Huh? The young boy turned his head up, his heart skipping a beat as he saw a girl around his age holding the soccer ball in her hands. A genuine smile adorned her childish face, and just as he was tense, he relaxed a bit, though his guard remained up. "Yeah, it's mine," he replied, his voice cautious yet not unfriendly.

"Can I play with you?" the girl asked eagerly, her c/e eyes sparkling with excitement. He hesitated for a moment, unused to such normal interaction . "Um, sure, I guess," he replied, still keeping his distance.

The girl bounded over and sat down beside him, bouncing the ball in her hands. "I'm Y/N, by the way. What's your name?"

"Michael," he answered quietly, glancing at her briefly before returning his gaze to the ground. Y/N didn't seem to mind his reserved demeanor. "Cool! Do you go to school, Michael?"

Michael tensed slightly at the question, his grip on the ball tightening involuntarily. "No, I don't," he murmured, feeling a pang of sadness at the reminder of his isolation, "So do you like football?"

"Yeah, I do... Kind of," she hummed at his answer, the ball Michael bounced lightly on the ground made a noise in the quiet area they were sitting in "Do you want to see who can make more kicks? The loser has to do everything the winner wants!"

Standing up as she gave him a hand so he could get up too. It was very strange to him that such a thing was happening, suddenly everything was just so calm and fun. It was fun having to play with someone, it was fun having someone to talk to, it was fun finally experiencing his childhood.

Michael hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. He wasn't used to playing with others, let alone making bets. But there was something about this mysterious girl and her energy that made him loosen up. "Okay, deal," he finally agreed, a smile appeared on Y/N's face.

As they played, Michael found himself becoming more relaxed, the weight of his worries lifted from his shoulders. Their match was 'intense', each of them showing off their best moves and tricks. But in the end, it was Michael who emerged victorious, narrowly beating Y/N by a single point.

She gasped in awe, her eyes wide with admiration as she looked at Michael. "You are so good at this! One day you will be a worldwide super star like Noel Noa or Ronaldo!" she exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. Michael shrugge trying to play off his accomplishment. "Eh, it wasn't that hard," he mumbled, but deep down, he couldn't help but feel a sense of validation at Y/N's praise.

As they sat together on the swings, catching their breath after the game, Michael found himself studying Y/N's face. There was something about her innocence, her pure-heartedness, that made him feel...calm. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could just be himself, without any pretense or fear.

Before long, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the playground. She checked her mobile phone and sighed. "I've gotta go home. But here," she said, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a small bag of candy, "your promised reward." He blinked in surprise as she handed him the candy, a warmth spreading through his chest and rosy blush appearing on his cheeks. Right, the reward he forgot about it, but either way he couldn't ask her to bail him out of troubles. "Thanks," he managed to say, watching as she waved goodbye and went on her way.

Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in this world was like his father and the drunken men around him — maybe there was hope after all and maybe angels did exists having themselves hidden among the many devils, coming to us when we least expect it.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

#✧* 🤍 blue lock #michael kaiser x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #x reader #blue lock x you #kaiser x reader #blue lock kaiser #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock manga #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (Modern Era): You'd Have to Stop the World Just to Stop the Feeling

a/n: when I said my brain couldn't stop thinking of AUs...I kind of like the idea that Cass/John's souls reincarnate across time because they are always meant to be together. This is one example of that. It's been rattling in my brain for a little while and I've gotten it on paper and hope you fall just as deeply in love with this version as you have the original. Let me know your thoughts on this era and anything specific you might wish to see. love you xoxo

She felt absolutely miserable. The satin of her champagne colored dress was itchy against her skin and the halter felt like it was choking her and if the Russian Ambassador looked at her bare back like it was a lost wonder of the world one more time she was going to have her forearm against his windpipe in an instant. There was also the absolutely offensive paper weight of a diamond ring on her left hand. She thinks if she threw it hard enough, it could break through the wall of the Embassy’s reception room like a bullet. 

“My, my, Miss Cooper. You are looking particularly diplomatic tonight.” 

“Dimitri. I asked the bartender to throw away all the vodka so you wouldn’t bother me over here.” She fully knew he was SVR and she assumed he was tracking her State Department cover as loosely intact. 

“Come now, my little eagle. I’ve spent all night waiting for you to come flirt with me like you always do. You’ve really kept me waiting.” 

“If that’s flirting, things must be very bleak in Russia.” Originally, she had thought she’d try her hand at developing him. He had tried to develop her right back. She dropped her official pursuit of him but the back and forth kept her busy at the stuffy cocktail hours she had to attend. Cass would have preferred to be out in the local villages and talking to the people and the families and the culture she was falling in love with. 

“Eh maybe our flirting isn’t great but that new American soldier is looking at you like he wants you in a way us Russian men are very familiar with.” She didn’t have to look to know it was John. His arrival a few days ago had rocked her to the very core and she had done everything in her power to avoid him since. “He the one who put that ring on your finger?”

“If you were half as good as you want me to believe, Dimitri, you’d know. Enjoy your night.” Cass finished off her drink and turned to leave when his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. “Let go of me.”

“Miss Cooper, I’m not-”

“She asked you politely. I won’t offer the same courtesy.” A lump lodged in her throat as she felt John’s presence behind her. Her arm was dropped in an instant and she crossed it against her chest. 

“Good night, my little eagle.” Dimitir looked at her like he had gotten the exact answer he wanted. She itched to slap the victorious smirk off his face as he walked away. 

“You okay? He hurt you?” John touched her wrist tenderly, lovingly, all the things she hadn’t felt against her skin since she fled North Carolina a few months ago. 

“I was handling it. He did it on purpose to see how you’d react.” He dropped her arm as the glint of a diamond caught his eye. Took a step back to physically distance himself from the object.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He thought about tacking on an again but thought better of it. If she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him, maybe she never would be, then he wasn’t going to broach down the pathway.

“Not it’s…there’s no way you would have known.” She looked at him, for the first time since they said goodbye bathed in the moonlight on the beaches of Hatteras Island, and he felt his world shift back into place under her gaze. “Thank you.” 

“Can I at least get you a refill?” It felt like dipping her toes back in those North Carolina waters. A place she had told herself was too dangerous to go back to. He looked too good in his blues to turn down.

“Yes.” His hand on the small of her back guided her closer to the bar and it felt so warm she could lose herself in it.

“Two of whatever the lady was having.” 

“It’s just Coke in a rocks glass, Major.” She smiled as he took a long and satisfying sip either way. 

“Still delicious,” he laughed. “You been out here awhile?” Her eyes found the corner of her cocktail napkin much more interesting all of a sudden.

“Since…since around the last time I saw you.” He nodded around the last of his soda. Wished it was full of rum. 

“You could have just told me the truth. I would have understood.” Cass shook her head.

“No, you would have fought for me and told me we would find a way to make it work.” She distinctly remembered the look in his eyes on the beach that night. The frustration at her secrecy. The distress at her leaving when he had spent the whole summer learning how to love her. The anger that she acted like the truck bed nights and T6 flights and long weekends spent in bed could be tucked back into a box. He had wanted to scream that he was in love with her. Scream that he knew what was between them was meant to last a lifetime and he would fight for her until the ends of the earth. Scream that this war had already taken so much from so many and they shouldn’t let it take this from them. 

“Would it have worked? Clearly, you had something else lined up anyways.” Instead, John had felt defeated. Had heard the words that she was leaving and couldn’t tell him where or why and it was better to leave this summer exactly where they were standing. “My sister sent me the photos of you and him at some Newport mansion.” 

“It’s not real. You have to believe me.” Cass would have rather died than know John had seen the staged engagement photos. But the point of a PR campaign was for people to see the evidence. 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Cass.” He turned toward the calling of his name from his fellow pilots. They had been joined by a group of young women who all looked eager to head back to their housing units for the after party. 

“Looks like you have a fun night ahead of you.” Pilots were always a hot commodity no matter where they went. And John was tall and handsome and pilot and goofy and…there was nothing wrong with him that she could come up with besides his love for her. 

“Are you done for the night? I can walk you back.” She nodded, something about the gaggle of girls waiting for him making her chest ache. “I’ll get your coat.”

They walked in silence at a safe distance. Both of them were walking slower than usual. They didn’t want the fact that they were back in each other’s presence to end. Her housing complex came into view all too quickly. “Nice housing for an alleged entry level econ analyst.”

“Guess I’m just special,” she remarked. He looked at her with a smile while she glanced up at the moon. “He’s running for Congress. Landry. He offered to help my sister fix a problem if I agreed to pretend to be with him for the campaign.” 

“Why’re you telling me?” He took a tentative step closer to her. 

“Because you asked earlier if it would’ve worked. And it would have. I wanted to tell you the truth about Afghanistan and my job. But my sister made a mistake and there was a way for me to protect her from the consequences and I had to take it.” She fiddled with the buttons of his jacket as tears trickled down her cheeks. “It killed me to say those things to you. I didn’t mean any of it. Those few months we shared together were the best of my life and I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything and I’m sorry I got in the way of the things we dreamt about under the stars every night.” 

“Give me your hand, Cass.” With a furrowed brow, she offered him her left hand and he locked his eyes onto hers. He slid the ring off her finger and her breath caught in her throat as he held it up between them. “I’ll make sure this is hand delivered to Mr. Landry.” The ring dropped into his pocket.

“Will you kiss me now, John Egan?”

“Only because you asked so nicely, Cassandra Cooper.” It felt like coming home when his lips touched hers. It felt like the first warm day after a dull winter. Like seeing your favorite movie again. Like the first bite of the food you’ve been craving. 

He had thought about trying to track her down. Thought about paying off an intel officer or sweet talking the personnel lady on the fifth floor into looking her up but had always been struck by the look in her eyes when she had left him that night. Begging him to just let it be. Begging him to let her go. Begging him to spare her the pain of his words because the solemn emptiness of her soul was the only thing that would allow her to turn around and leave him behind. 

She hadn’t been able to think about him. Not if she wanted to survive. Not when she needed to shut down and smile and pretend to fall in love with the weasel of man that had cunningly offered to help her sister. Cass hadn’t been able to say no. Her only regret was that she hadn’t been able to tell him herself. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” But she would never be able to forgive herself for taking away all the time they could have had together. 

“Already forgiven, Cass, I promise.” It was easy to forgive the people you loved. Less so to forget. Less so to heal from the wounds they inflicted on you. She had hurt him so deeply. Eroded all the trust he had in her. Eroded the trust he had for his own gut instinct. Kissing it better was one thing. Picking where they had left off was something else entirely.

“I want to try, John. I want to start over and I want to do this the right way. Even if it’s hard.” 

“I’ll choose us every goddamn day, Cass.” She kept her hands on his cheeks as she dropped back down from her toes. “You look stunning tonight. I didn’t get the chance to tell you.” John began to lead her in a dance that could only be heard between the matching, racing beats of their hearts. 

“Thank you but anything is going to look more stunning than the camis you saw me in all summer.” He kissed her with a laugh. 

“You looked stunning in those too.” Lest she forget that was exactly how he had fallen in love with her in the first place. Low bun and camo pants and rolling her eyes every time a pilot tried to flirt with her. She had beaten a particularly persistent one in a pull up contest to prove her point. “Cass?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?” She looked around at the mountains and desert. At the bland buildings and miscellaneous pods of gym equipment. 

“I suppose.” Their original first date had been to a seafood shack where they broke down their own crabs and were covered in Old Bay and laughed as they walked along the pier and he had kissed her senseless while the sun set over the water. It was the most perfect memory. “Though I doubt you can top our first first date.” John smiled and traced the tip of his nose up and down the side of her cheek. 

“I just want to be with you, Cass. Make you feel special. Remind us both that there is still good in this world worth fighting for.” 

“I like the way that sounds,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You’ll find me when your day is over?” 

You’ll always find me?

I’ll always find you. In this life, or any other. 

When two souls are meant to tangle together across the universe there is no timeline that can halt them. There would be time apart and forces who tried to keep them that way but none would succeed. You cannot prevent the inevitable. 

Two stars colliding into a supernova with no limit in sight. There was no before. There was no after. Only them.

“Yes, Cass. I’ll find you.”

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #mota fanfic #john egan x oc #cass and bucky #john egan x reader

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.205 thoughts

[Despite Everything, It's Still You]

(Contents: Philosophy - Souls and identity, Character Development - Nico)

At the risk of overselling it, I think this might end up being in my top 10 favorite chapters by the end of the series. There are so many emotions wrapped up in this chapter that I can't help but feel the absolute weight of it all: the serenity in Nico's face and voice contrasting his haggard form, the triumph as we see the path to the endgame slowly coming into focus, and the relief of watching Fuuko's greatest fear gently lifted from her shoulders.

The image of Fuuko's tears alone is enough to make me want to cry. I always figured that Tozuka would reveal that souls are the same between incarnations, but the uncertainty of whether he would want to make the cast wrestle with the possibility of choosing between the present self and the past self always gave me the same kind of anxiety I imagine Fuuko was feeling. Fuuko's relief is not hers alone here, as I and I'm sure many others were right there with her the entire time, so I can empathize quite well with her feelings in this moment

Of course, Nico asking Language directly about the nature of souls gives us the answer that everyone is the same "them" that they always were pretty plainly and concisely, but from a philosophical standpoint, we can see this in Nico's characterization here as well. Because Nico has regained his memories of all previous Loops, for all intents and purposes he's acting as a preview of what will happen to the rest of the cast if they use Remember, though they likely won't suffer mental strain usually associated with Artifact memories if they do (hopefully)

The fear has always been that the use of Remember would "overwrite the save file" so to speak, that the soul of today would be replaced with the soul of yesterday as if the present self never existed. Julia unfortunately serves to reinforce that fear, as while she has a similar personality to Juiz, it's undeniable that she has her own identity, more analogous Andy and Victor than to say Gina 100 and Gina 101. How Julia would be impacted by Remember is honestly still up in the air, but now we at least know what to expect from everyone else

As Nico regained his memories, he neither overwrote his current self nor felt disconnected from his previous self - instead, the ideal scenario seems to have come about, and the two have become one. Nico knows who he once was, what he once did, but also knows who he is and who he wants to be. The goals he has now have not been replaced by the goals he once had, but rather have been reevaluated and informed by information new and old. By reconciling who he was and what he wanted back then with who he is and what he wants now, Nico is able to create an image of his ideal self and the path for how to get there

Past and Present have met to become Future

When I was in college, I once got into a debate with a professor about the nature of "choice." He argued that human beings don't truly make decisions, that their own nature, experiences, preferences and biases aggregate into consistent patterns of action that we call "personality." Provided the same information and the same set of circumstances, our personality dictates the "choices" we make, meaning that at our core, our "choices" are predetermined, and therefore not choices at all

I didn't quite understand what he was getting at back then, I thought he was just being pedantic and invalidating the idea of autonomy for the sake of sounding smart, but now I think I have a better idea of what he meant

Nico 101 wouldn't sell out his comrades the way that Nico 100 did, but this isn't because he's a fundamentally different person than Nico 100; it's because he isn't in the same scenario as Nico 100. Nico 100 had been under the effects of Unforgettable for decades, the memories of Ichico were fading, and the world was falling further and further apart by the second. His death, and the deaths of everyone he knew, were unavoidable; in his final moments, of course he would want to be with the person he loved most, the person whose memory he could only cling to and who had been his driving force for the majority of his natural born life

And Nico 101, upon seeing all of the circumstances that led to that choice, undoubtedly understood. He didn't say "I can't believe I did that." Though not in so many words, what he said was "I'm sorry for how I acted. I'm going to make it right." Nico 101 identifies with the actions of Nico 100, and rather than separating himself from those actions by claiming to be a different man, he takes responsibility for them by ensuring that the circumstances that brought them about can never happen again

Because while Nico 101 may not be a different man, he is a changed man. Through Fuuko's influence, through her choice to let Nico 101 live as himself for as long as possible, the nature of his soul changed in a way that Nico 100 likely couldn't have. Nico 101 learned to cherish other people, to make room in his heart for them, rather than to cling to the one shape it had taken from Ichico's influence alone. But more importantly, Nico 101 learned to value himself in a way that Nico 100 never did

"If I could atone for what I did by dying, I would."

A very Loop 100 sentiment; everyone in L100 craved death, to escape the survivor's guilt that their abilities had saddled them with.

"But even more than that, I want to repay your kindness...I'm going to achieve the most happiness I have in any Loop so far!!"

A sentiment unique to Loop 101; where everyone L100 craved death, everyone in L101 craves life. The fight against God is no longer a fight for revenge or atonement, a fight to destroy the past, but a fight to create the future, where everyone can be happy without the fear that a detached deity will try to steal that happiness on a whim

This change in Nico, visible in other members of the cast already, may have suggested to some readers that the souls of L100 and L101 were fundamentally different, but remember, in every previous world, everyone ended up the same every time because no one made an active effort to prevent their tragedies

Nico became Unforgettable in multiple Loops. Juiz knew how he manifested his Rule, but as far as we can tell, she never tried to save Ichico, and in fact may have even deliberately introduced Ichico to Nico as an investment towards attaining Unforgettable. That's a bit of a cruel interpretation of Juiz's actions, I admit, but I do think it speaks to her approach in defeating God - Juiz likely believed that everyone's tragedies were either unavoidable at best and that she was powerless to stop them, or necessary at worst and that she had to ensure they came to pass to create the strongest possible allies

In other words, Nico 100 was not "the default" Nico, he was the product of all of the choices and circumstances that led to his existence, just as Nico 101 is now. Unforgettable Nico 101, in turn, is not simply the product of the events of L101, but the aggregate of all 100 prior Nico's; their choices, their tragedies, their deaths, and of course, their experiences, their relationships, and their happiness. Nico 101 is the completed form of every Nico that came before him, and the meeting of all of their joys and sorrows created hope, a vision for the future and the confidence to achieve it

While we can't know how anyone else will react to Remember until they use it, the one thing we can be sure of is that they'll still be themselves. Rip will still love Latla and Leila, the question is whether he'll be more inclined to feelings of guilt or gratitude. What kind of man he is will determine which way the coin falls, but the fundamental truth that Rip cherishes those two above all else will not change

Like I said, Julia is the real mystery here, since Juiz's reincarnation has created a new person with new circumstances, but her morals and convictions are still intact. I think for all intents and purposes, Julia is Juiz's blank slate, a reset to the default she essentially was in L001, but that's so far removed from the Juiz that we knew or any experience that we in reality have had that it's hard to conceptualize just how large of a gulf that creates. We'll have to wait and see, I suppose

As usual, this chapter has just continued to build up hype for what's to come, and I simply can't wait to see what happens next. I'm sad that we'll have to wait another two weeks to see the finale of this fight, but with how phenomenal this series has been across the board, Tozuka definitely deserves to rest

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews #this is one of my favorite reviews so far I think

[ciematis]

one flew over starring mitsuya takashi

content warning(s) domineering and controlling behavior. inappropriate behavior towards strangers/non-consensual touching. sexual discussions. mentions of human trafficking. stalking (minor). mitsuya is a bird hybrid. gn!reader

He notices you at the mall.

Harpy's eyes see all, and you’re too busy looking nervous, showing your less interesting friends how cute your ass looks, that you don't perceive him at all.

Ones who are as doe-eyed, pathetic, and as precious as you.

Mitsuya reckons it's jealousy. It’s not like humans are all bad.

He can concede that your people are weaker than him - hell, he could probably tear your pillowy flesh to ribbons with a flex of his talons, flap a wing and send you colliding to the ground with the force of the gale, but you humans have your own uses, individual purposes.

He's worked with humans as a fashion designer. Mostly assistants; coffee picker-uppers and donut deliverers and chauffeurs. Models of your kind aren't common.

But it's not impossible- sometimes a flower blooms from the concrete, and he's seen beautiful humans before. He's seen them naked, clothed, bouncing on his cock, but none of them were worth stopping and staring at.

None of them were worth more than a polite nod or a 'Thank you, sweetheart,' - perhaps a 'good pet' if they squeeze down on him just right.

The thought of them didn't roost, slinking out of the grooves of his mind. He normally wouldn't be caught dead yearning for some human.

Good thing nobody's minding him now, then.

After seeing you, the thought of keeping you feels a little more romantic. Pleasant to the ear. A gift to the self - wholly indulgent in every sense of the world because

You, against the backdrop of the world, are a sky full of shimmering gold - the muse that’s eluded him all his natural life. Remarkable figure, this natural charm about your aura. You're demure, sweet even, fussing about your friend's outfits even if you've tragically outshined them.

You have star potential. He can imagine you in his latest sets, a permanent fixture in his private studio - even outfitted with your own little stage.

He quickly makes up his mind about it, and steps into your bubble. He’s as quiet as a wink ‘cause you don’t notice him until you mind his shadow eclipsing you, stepping back in abject horror as you turn to behold him. Terrifyingly beautiful.

Buying humans is usually easy - when they have handlers.

You’re stood; stuck and stupid and gaping and gawking and he thinks it's something he should charge your owner more for, before he notices the lack of identification tag on you. Your friends fade into background and shadow as he makes you do a few turns.

You’re clumsy! Adorable, but inexperienced. Can’t even look at him without sweating - pupils dilating, desperate for something to land on that isn’t his face. He cups your chin as delicately; a collector examining fine china.  Feathers cling to his elbows and arms; frame an alien face.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, human?” He chats too casually. Your lips quiver in place, his eyes narrowing derisively. “Speak when you’re spoken to, yeah? It’ll be good for you to learn to respect your betters.” He touches the top of your head, extremely comfortable for a man you’ve met less than a minute ago.

Forgive you for being a little stunned, you suppose. “O-okay,” The way he smiles down at you makes you feel even more uncertain. You’re a quick learner, that’s great. He straightens up, applies light pressure to your head. “And?”

You nearly draw your eyes down in confusion but try to remain neutral faced as you ponder what he could possibly want. The pressure grows as you take your time, your legs trembling ever so slightly under the weight of his claw. You’re teary by the time you’re pushing out a petrified, “...thank you?” and he laughs genuinely, bending down to your height. It dawns on you in this very moment how tall he is. His smile twists his face, would look more at home on a cat.

“Are you asking me? Or ya telling me?”

“T-telling, sir.” He coos affectionately at the honorific, talons skimming along the fat of your cheek. Something damp trickles down your face. 

“Good.” 

He’ll work on fixing your stutter later.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀TOKREV/BANNER ART by @/KenWakui

all content written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

#tokyo revengers #mitsuya takashi x reader #tokyo rev #tokrev #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya takashi x you #hybrid #bird!hybrid #tokyo revengers imagines #tr fanfic #tokrev fanfic #mitsuya imagines #mitsuya x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #🪻┆all eyes on me.

[your-eternal-lies]

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter ten)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — Mild angst.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER TEN GOODBYE, NEIGHBOUR

Sharon Carter, a nurse who lives in the building, lowers herself onto the floor to see into the tiny gap near the top of the elevator doors, her scrubs whispering against the dusty carpet. 

“You two okay in there?” Her voice is tinged with a genuine mixture of concern and curiosity. Her eyes are sharp and assessing, the calm authority of her profession evident even in this unexpected situation. 

You offer her a grateful smile. “We’re fine, thanks. Just stuck.” 

“Alright, hang tight. I’m gonna call for help,” she replies before disappearing from view. She stands up and steps away, her voice growing distant as she makes good on her promise, her conversation a bit muted. 

“Thank god,” you venture after a moment, nudging the conversation into motion like one might cautiously poke at a resting bear. “Sharon seems nice.” 

“Yep,” is all Steves says, his reply terse, his eyes not meeting yours. 

“Must be handy having a nurse in the building,” you prod further, trying to stir the waters that had suddenly grown stagnant between them. Did you imagine the part where he almost kissed you? 

“Handy,” he echoes, almost mechanically, and nothing more. There’s an odd tension in his posture now, a rigidity that belies discomfort or perhaps something deeper than you can’t quite pinpoint. 

You watch him closely, noting the subtle change. The way he avoids eye contact and gives monosyllabic responses are worlds away from the laughter and stories you’d shared earlier. The relationship that had blossomed in the dim light of the elevator seems to wilt under the weight of whatever unspoken thoughts occupy Steve’s mind. 

…Or the arrival of a certain blonde-haired nurse. 

You want to delve deeper, to understand the sudden shift, but the sound of Sharon’s voice cuts through the silence once again. 

“Help’s on the way,” she calls out, her tone friendly yet professional. You can hear the faint murmur of her talking to someone outside, some more shoes shuffling past the visible gap—likely the super, and maybe a few repairmen. 

“Everything okay, Steve?” You ask, addressing him directly for the first time since Sharon’s interruption. His head jerks up, those piercing blue eyes momentarily clouded with something you can’t quite place. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” he stumbles over the words as if they’re cracks in the sidewalk. You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. Sure, the moment had been awkward, but there’s something about his reaction that rubs you the wrong way. 

“Come on, spill it,” you prod, your voice tinged with humour to try and lighten up the mood. “You’ve been acting weird since Sharon got here. What’s up?” 

“Sharon?” Steve echoes, his voice climbing an octave higher than usual. He clears his throat and tries again, this time his tone landing somewhere between casual and completely unconvincing. “No, nothing like that.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod slowly, not buying it for a second. You cross your arms and regard him with a playful tilt of your head. “You need to work on your poker face, Cap.” 

“Look, it’s just—complicated,” he says, but then he presses his lips together, looking like he wishes he could snatch his words right out of the air and stuff them right back into his mouth. 

You blink at him, all the warmth from his jacket draped over your form seeming to evaporate into thin air. Complicated. You don’t have to be a linguist nor a genius to know what that means. 

But before the awkward pause can stretch into eternity, the distant rumble of an approaching toolbox cuts through the tension. The super, a burly man with a semi-permanent frown, interrupts, “Sorry for the trouble, folks. This old lift has been giving us grief for weeks.” 

One of the repairmen kneels by the control panel, his tools clinking as he works. With a few swift movements, he pries it open and begins fiddling with the wires inside. After another tense couple of minutes, there is a soft click followed by the familiar whirring of machinery. 

The elevator doors close before it jolts slightly, then smoothly resumes its descent, the floor indicator lights coming to life one by one. It chimes its arrival on the ground floor and the doors finally glide open again with indifference. 

You step out first, your movements hesitant as you balance your laundry basket against your hip, as if you’re reluctant to leave behind the strange intimacy the confined space had fostered. Your glance back at Steve, his posture rigid, each step carrying the weight of things left unsaid. 

“Thank you,” you say, and it’s unclear whether you’re talking to Steve or another repairman who’s tipped his hat at your arrival. Your voice is a murmur that barely reaches across the distance now wedged between you—the air is thick with things left unsaid, emotions masked by the bright lights of the hallway. 

Sharon comes out of the stairwell, and all you can hear is: Complicated. Complicated. Complicated. 

“Take care, Steve,” you say, mustering a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and the falter in your voice betrays the hurt you try to hide so well. You hold his gaze for a fleeting moment before turning away, the finality in your gesture unmistakeable. 

“Wait, please—” he takes a step, intending to follow you, to clear up an obvious misunderstanding. It’s then that his phone vibrates sharply in his pocket. Pulling it out, he sees Natasha’s name flash across the screen. 

Natasha: Mission alert. Extraction imminent. Meet at the curb. :) 

A sigh escapes his lips, a silent acknowledgement of the impossible timing. His sense of duty clashes with the personal regret gnawing at him, his heart sinking as he watches your retreating back. 

The distance between you and him grows, and Steve feels the keen sting of more missed opportunities, the dull ache of what might have been. There are no do-overs in matters of the heart, and yet duty calls. 

Again, unforgiving in its urgency. 

« Chapter 9 || Chapter 11 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 8: Recollections

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Raph sits down on his bed, grabbing a stuffed bear and rubbing his thumb over its worn-down stomach.

The room is dim, but not dark. The main light is off, but the hanging lanterns he has strung along the wall give a warm red glow to the room.

Ever since his krangification, Raph's eye has been a bit sensitive. It waters easily, stings on occasion, and bright lights irritate him. He's started wearing sunglasses outside more often, even on cloudy days. Donnie offered to make an artificial eye to help, but Raph said no. He'd rather keep the eye, even with its attitude and quirks.

"I'm not ready to be a cyborg just yet," he'd joked.

He thought that much of a change would be too big for him, after all the changes he and his family have already gone through.

Now a mechanical eye doesn't sound so crazy or scary.

Raph hugs his teddy bear. It squeaks in his arms. He thinks of how similar it felt to holding Mikey before he got mutated...

He grimaces, scrunching his face up tight and pressing his hands against his head, trying to force the thoughts away.

Mikey is still Mikey! Just with a few new... he won't call them upgrades. Changes. Nothing that can't be reversed, of course.

But... what if they can't be?

Raph presses his hands even tighter against his head.

Stop it. Shut up. Shut up!!

He doesn't want to think about this. He doesn't want to think about Mikey. Not in this way.

He feels like he's betraying him somehow, thinking of him as a monster or a wild animal rather than a brother. But then, he feels like he won't be able to help him if he keeps thinking of Mikey as he was before, and not accepting that he is changed now. But then, he won't stay changed. But then...

"SHUT UP!" Raph yells to himself, slamming his fists against the bed frame.

His ninpo activates, giant red fists breaking the bed slightly and causing the edge of it to slip under his weight and crash against the floor. Raph yipes in alarm, looking down at the mess he's made.

"...Nice going, Raph," he grumbles, grabbing some boxes of dumbells from the corner of his room to prop up the extension on his bed.

He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the mattress again, head in his hands.

He tries to stay strong. He tries not to break down. His family doesn’t need that right now, they don't need a basket case or a worry-wart or whatever else they might call him. They need Raph, strong and brave and ready to take on the world.

But he needs Mikey... he needs his baby brother back, safe, sound, whole. Not broken, not bloody, not feral and confused. He wants Mikey home again. Home in his own body.

Raph starts crying. Although he's disappointed in himself for it, he is glad that he can finally get the tears out. He presses his face into his stuffed animals, trying to get it all out all at once.

Raph hates himself so much right now...

Because...

Because it is all his fault...

.

.

.

"...But I don't see WHY we have to wait!" Raph gripes, Mikey sitting beside him, drawing random doodles on his arm wraps while he listens to the rant. "If we know that the place is doing villain stuff, shouldn't we go in to stop em?"

"I mean, Leo's decision does make a little sense," Mikey counters, taking a big yellow marker out and drawing a smiling sun on Raph's arm. "It's a pretty big building, dude."

"I'm not saying we storm the castle," he responds, waving his arms in exasperation.

Mikey scolds him and brings his arm back down to continue his work.

"I'm just saying that we could scope out the place instead of ignoring it completely!"

"We're not ignoring it," Mikey corrects. "Donnie is gonna run surveillance on it. Leo's gonna have Cass and the girl scouts check it out. Besides, when did you become the go-getter? I thought you and your Raph-chasm would have preferred taking it slow and safe!"

"Raph-chasm?!" he sputters. "Is Leo spreading that slander around?"

Mikey giggles.

"You do know we've been calling it that for years, right?"

Raph growls angrily.

"Dang it, Leo..."

Mikey giggles again.

"But for real, Raph... why are you so antsy?"

"I don't know... just a gut feeling. There's been reports of all kinds of crazy stuff since the invasion, and most of it has something to do with that new organization Donnie and April told us about..."

"What did they call it again? ESP?"

"EPF," Raphael corrects. "Earth Protection Force, or some junk."

"Doesn't sound so bad," Mikey hums, taking out a blue marker and drawing a mini version of Leo on Raph.

"Maybe, but it bothers me that they're everywhere." Raph shudders. "It's unsettling. What if they find us?"

"Find us...?" Mikey turns his head up. "What do you think they'd do?"

"I don't know. But I don't trust em. Something about it all just... bugs me."

Mikey is quiet for a second. He places the cap on his marker. He's managed to draw everyone in the family but himself.

"Well, if it bugs you, then... let's go check em out!"

"Wait, huh?"

"You're gut says they're untrustworthy? Then that's enough for me!" he says, jumping up from his spot. "Let's go see how bad they are."

"But... Leo said..."

"Weren't you the one just complaining about how you didn't think we should stand still and do nothing?" Mikey challenges.

"I know. But Leo is the leader, and I want to show him that I trust him."

"We do!" Mikey exclaims. "We're not storming a castle, we're checking out the scene. Leo wants to wait until we can get some actual intel? Then let's help him along! Let's grab a few listening devices or something and place them along the windows."

"Well... that would help... but we leave at the first sign of trouble, okay?"

"Absolutely!" Mikey salutes. "Now, am I breaking into Donnie's labs to get the spy stuff or are you?"

Raph chuckles as he stands, cracking his knuckles.

"You get the spy equipment, I'll get the weapons. Meet you at the tank."

The two give quick nods before heading off in separate directions.

Raph rushes to the training room and grabs the weapons. It is only then that he sees Mikey's doodles.

Oh, he should change his wraps. He doesn't have time to clean them off, and besides, he knows Mikey prefers to take pictures of all his doodles before getting rid of them.

Raph quickly grabs his sai and Mikey's nunchucks before heading to his room, grabbing a spare roll of black bandages, and carefully but speedily removing the one on his right arm. He just needs to replace the one arm, Mikey hasn't gotten to decorating the left yet. Maybe when they get back he can finish it...

He races back to the tunnel, seeing Mikey leaning against the ginormous tire of the turtle tank as he waits.

"There you are! Ready to go?"

"Sure thing. Do you wanna try driving tonight?"

"Can I?" Mikey asks with excitement.

"Sure, why not? You need the practice."

Mikey squeals with delight as he climbs in, Raph following suit.

The two drive away, making plans while Raph gives Mikey impromptu driving lessons. They joke, they laugh, Raph clings to his seat when Mikey's turns come in too sharply.

"Park over there," Raph says, pointing to an alley closeby to the targeted building.

Mikey nods with an "aye-aye, cap'n!" as he makes another sharp turn and hides the tank in the alley, activating a cloaking device Donnie came up with recently.

"Okay, got the listening doohickeys?"

"Right here!" Mikey says, reaching out and producing several small, round baubles with purple centers.

"Alright, so all we're gonna do is ninja up there, ninja a few of these around the perimeter, and then ninja out."

"That sounds just like the time future Leo saved a war camp!" Mikey giggles. "Or whatever Casey Jr. said."

"Uh, okay?" Raph offers. "I'll pretend like I understood that."

The two exit the vehicle and slink around the block, coming up on the building.

It looks like a normal building. No more than 13 stories, small windows with frosted glass, a rotating door that leads to a small lobby, a few security guards and an intern behind a desk. There's graffiti on the side of the wall, with what looks like an artist's rendition of the 'New York Heroes'. Mikey takes a quick selfie with it before getting back to the unsanctioned mission.

"You take the left side, I'll take the right," Raph whispers. "We don't have a lot of listening gadgets, so use 'em sparingly. Got it?"

"Got it!" Mikey whispers back.

He takes his chucks out and swings them up. A long glowing chain activates, and Mikey starts to scale the wall, swinging to the opposite side.

Raph starts pressing the small devices to the wall, doing two for each floor. Once the gadgets stick to the bricks, the purple centers start to blink.

After about five minutes, Raph's phone buzzes. He pulls it out to see that he's getting a call from Donnie.

Uh-oh.

He declines the call.

He presses two more devices to the wall before Donnie calls him again. Raph groans and pulls the phone out, answering it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Raphala, where are you?" Donnie asks. His tone sounds cheerful and fake. He can tell he's seething.

"Um, nowhere..."

"Nowhere? Really? Then, would you care to explain to me why I am getting bombarded with notifications about my spy tech being activated? And why when I checked the garage, the tank was gone? And why I cannot find you, nor Mikey, nor your gear anywhere within the lair??"

"Um... bad connection?" Raph tries.

"What are you doing."

"Nuthin'," Raph says, his voice squeaking. He clears his throat and tries again. "Just, y'know... ninja stuff."

"I can clearly see your location, Raph."

"Shoot, I forgot about that," he hisses. "I mean, uh..."

"Is that Raph?" Leo's voice comes into the call.

"Oh no," he groans.

"Let me talk to him."

"You had your chance," Donnie speaks into the phone, before handing it over to Leo.

"Raph. Where are you. What are you and Mikey doing with the listening devices."

"Okay, well, we were thinking," he starts, moving away from the alley for a moment as he talks with Leo on the phone. "We were thinking that maaayyybeee it would be a good idea to get some surveillance on the EPF place before our next big mission, and so --"

"And so you ignore the fact that I said to wait?!" Leo yells angrily. "Raph, we TALKED about this! I thought you said you were gonna let me be leader without pulling these kinds of stunts behind my back!"

"I'm not pulling any stunt! All we're doing is setting up the devices, then leaving! We just wanted to try and see if we could get any intel on them to help! We're not stupid enough to just go in and mess around, ya know!"

"Where's Mikey?" Leo asks exasperatedly. "He isn't answering his phone."

Raph turned back to look at the building he's walked away from. He looks up, and can see Mikey standing on the roof, looking around.

"He's on the roof," Raph sighs. "I'll go and get him."

Raph puts Leo on hold as he runs back to the building. Once in the alley, he starts jumping between walls, doing impressive parkour as he bounces back and forth and flips off of fire escapes until he's at the roof.

But Mikey isn't there.

Raph walks to the other side of the roof and looks over the edge.

Mikey isn't on the ground.

He notices a vent panel has been jimmied open.

"Oh no."

Raph grabs his phone.

"Um, Leo? I think he went in..."

"WHAT?!" Leo screams at him, causing Raph to pull his phone away from his ear.

"Why would he go in?!"

"I don't know!" Raph whimpers. "I told him we were only doing the exterior--"

"You shouldn't be there at all!"

"Should I go in after him?"

"No, don't -- wait for a minute, call him, maybe he'll answer you."

"Okay, yeah, I'll do that," he says, trying not to panic. "Call you back soon."

Raph hangs up and quickly dials Mikey.

It rings once before he answers.

"Shello?" he whispers.

"Mikey? Where are ya?!" Raph hisses at him. "I thought we said no inside stuff!"

"I saw a weird van pull up," he explains. "They took a krangified person in through the back."

"They what?"

"Yeah, I know. I wanted to see what they were gonna do with him."

"Mikey, I think you should get outta there," Raph whimpers.

"I will in just a sec, I think I found the room where... huh..."

Mikey's voice trails off.

"Mikey? Mikey, what is it?"

"I'm not sure... hold on a sec, 'kay?" Mikey whispers, his voice soft and secretive.

"Mikey, get out of there, now!" Raph scolds.

Mikey doesn’t respond.

Raph waits for him to say something. Anything. He hears Mikey gasp quietly.

"Ohmigosh," he whimpers. His voice is weak and his breathing fast. "Okay, that's enough for me, I'm coming out now!"

"Mikey?! What did you see, what's going on?"

He hears a clattering sound, a stifled gasp, muffled shouting.

"I dropped my phone," Mikey whimpers in fear. "I think they heard me."

"GET OUT NOW!" Raph yells. He dials Leo, adding him to the call.

"Raph? What's going --"

"Mikey's been made," Raph says in a panic.

"Get ouy of there, now!"

"Leo?" Mikey whispers nervously. "Is that you?"

"Mikey, we're on our way now, just get out as fast as you can! Don't worry about whether or not you're seen, just get out!"

"I'm trying!" Mikey cries nervously. "I'm stuck in the vents!!"

Raph hears a loud clang, followed by Mikey's screams and a thud.

"There he is!"

"Get him!"

"Come'ere, kid!"

Mikey yells in protest, terrified screams as he shouts at them to 'let me go, stop, leave me alone!'

Raph yells out into the phone. He's not sure what he yells, only that he wants Mikey back. He hears Leo yelling, too.

"Raph! Leo!" Mikey screams.

"MIKEY!!" the two yell back in unison.

The line goes dead.

A blue light ignites besides Raph, and Leo jumps through immediately, gasping for air as he stares down at Raph, who is on his hands and knees, holding the phone like it was Mikey's only lifeline.

"Where is he?" Leo pants. "Where is Mikey?"

Raph can't do anything but shake.

Mikey got captured... Because of him...

.

.

.

Raph lifts his face from the army of plushies he has been confiding in.

He takes in a deep breath.

He stands, going to a drawer and pulling out the wraps from that day. Almost a week ago.

The drawings are still there. The sketches and doodles are all intact. The image of a family is there, with each member colour-coded. Red, Blue, Purple... but it's missing their Orange brother. He never did get to finish that portrait.

Raphael leaves his train car and walks over to Mikey's. The door is wide open.

Inside, he sees Leo, slumped over on a beanbag chair and snoring softly, his mouth fallen open.

He hadn't said anything about sleeping in here.

He must've wanted to check on Mikey, too...

Raph grabs of one the extra blankets and pillows and adjusts his brother so that he can sleep more comfortably.

He takes residence in another beanbag chair opposite him.

Once settled, Raphael watches Mikey, who is sleeping peacefully and undisturbed, his tail swinging from side to side and his claws twitching on occasion.

Raph sighs.

Tears silently streak down his face as he cries himself to sleep.

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#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #double mutated mikey #double mutation mikey #mutated #mutation #mutant #epf #earth protection force #rottmnt fanfiction #fanfic update #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #rottmnt fanfic #short stories #short story #long short story #ficlet

[mems-sama]

Show, Don't Tell: The Art of Bringing Your Writing to Life!

Alright, fellow wordsmiths, let's talk about a common trap many writers fall into: telling instead of showing. 🚫📝

Picture this: You're reading a story, and instead of feeling like you're right there in the moment, you're being told what's happening. It's like watching a movie with the narrator constantly interrupting to explain everything. Not cool, right?

So, what's the deal with showing vs. telling? It's all about painting a vivid picture with your words. Instead of saying, "She was sad," you'd describe how her eyes welled up with tears, her shoulders slumped, and her voice trembled. That way, the reader feels her sadness, rather than just being told about it.

So, how do we show instead of tell? Easy! Take a moment to observe the world around you. Notice the little details—the way sunlight filters through leaves, the sound of rain tapping against the window, the smell of freshly baked bread. Then, describe those details in your writing to create a rich, immersive experience for your readers. Trust me, they'll thank you for it! 😉📚

But wait! We're not done yet! Bet you thought we were, except no. Anyhoo, let's continue.

All right, let's break this down! We've got two groups in the mix:

Group 1, aka the yellow team, deals with all the stuff we can see, hear, smell, touch, and taste—basically, anything we can sense with our five senses.

Then we've got Group 2, repping the red and green. This crew is all about the things that are a bit more personal and inside our heads—like our feelings (that's the red zone) and our thoughts (yep, you guessed it, the green zone).

Now, when we're chatting with someone, we're usually hanging out in the yellow zone. We're picking up on all those sensory cues to understand what's going on. But when it comes to figuring out what someone else is thinking or feeling (you know, diving into the red and green), we've got to pay super close attention to their words, actions, and body language.

So, next time you're chatting with someone, keep your senses sharp and tune in to those verbal and nonverbal cues to really understand where they're coming from. It's all about staying connected and being mindful of those around you!

Now that we got that covered, let's give you some examples from actual writing by yours truly:

Okay, so check it: This sentence straight-up tells you how Salvatore feels, leaving absolutely no room for imagination. And guess what? That's the opposite of what we want to do as writers.

We want to paint a picture with our words, not just spell it out like a dictionary. So, how do we flip the script and show instead of tell, you ask?

Easy! Instead of saying, "Salvatore felt sad" you describe how he appears. Maybe you describe the drooping of his shoulders, the frown on his face, and even a tear slipping down his cheek.

This way, your reader feels his sadness, instead of just being told about it.

It's all about using those descriptive details to create a vibe, you know? 🌟

Alright, so now we've got this sentence that's like, "Salvatore is feeling sad because his uncle passed away." It's like a peek into Salvatore's heart, showing us the real deal: grief.

But here's the thing: we want to make sure our writing isn't just stating the obvious. We want our readers to feel what Salvatore's feeling, you know? So, instead of just saying, "He's sad," we want to paint a picture with our words that really hits home.

Imagine describing how Salvatore feels like there's a weight in his chest that is now an unbearable reminder of the loss he's faced with. I could have also gone further to describe how his shoulders slump under the weight of his grief, and how each breath feels like a struggle, but I didn't.

Anyway, this is the kind of stuff that makes the reader experience the emotion, not just read about it.

Here are some more examples:

Telling: She was nervous about the presentation.

Showing: Her hands trembled as she arranged her notes for the presentation. She took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.

and

Telling: He was just so in love with her.

Showing: Every time she entered the room, his face lit up, and he couldn't stop smiling. He found himself thinking about her constantly, and even the mention of her name made his heart skip a beat.

Last one

Telling: The room was messy.

Showing: Clothes were strewn across the floor, papers piled high on the desk, and books lay scattered around the room.

Remember, dive deep and really show the descriptions and emotions observed. Write what your character is feeling in that particular moment by describing both their physical and emotional state. 📝

But sometimes just describing what's happening isn't enough.

Like, when you want to show how your characters are feeling, but it's not as simple as saying, "They're stressed."

That's where figurative language comes in—think similes, analogies, and metaphors. They help you paint a picture and describe what's going on inside someone's head or heart.

Instead of just telling the reader, "Hey, this character is stressed," you can say something like, "They feel like they're juggling flaming swords while walking a tightrope."

It's like, bam! Now you've got this vivid image that lets the reader really feel the weight of the stress without you having to spell it out.

Figurative language is like adding a splash of colour to your writing—it makes it pop! It gives the reader room to interpret and feel things in their own way, which is what makes stories so powerful.

So remember: describe what you see, and when you need that extra oomph, then sprinkle in some figurative language.

You might ask why is telling bad writing and something we should stay away from 99% of the time?

First things first, it's all about keeping it real. As real as we can possibly make it feel. You feel me?

When we're out here in the world, we're not just taking things at face value. We're observing, we're inferring, we're picking up on all these vibes to understand what's really going on with people.

That's just how we humans roll, you know? We're not robots—we're all about those thoughts and feelings, right?

And that's how we connect with one another. It's also how we make sense of the world around us, like we said before. When you're trying to understand someone or write about the human experience, remember: it's all about those observations and inferences.

The second and absolute worst thing, is that you're basically taking away the reader's superpower: the ability to use their imagination and envision the story with you. And that's the beauty of writing, you know?

Writing is like setting the stage for a play, and the readers are the actors who bring it to life in their minds. When you describe a scene, you're like the director, giving them the setting, the characters, and the basic plot. But it's up to the readers to imagine the details, the emotions, and the thoughts of the characters.

It's this collaboration between the writer and the reader that makes storytelling so magical.

You're showing them what's going on, painting this vivid picture with your words, and then letting them do all the heavy lifting in their minds—imagining the thoughts and feelings, filling in all those juicy details.

That's where the real magic happens. 🌟

It's also how you get your readers totally hooked on your writing. But when you take that away with telling then you're doing your reader a grave travesty and this is why the second point is the absolute worst thing.

Another valid question, why do writers tend to fall to the telling instead of the showing?

Here's the thing, getting good at showing instead of telling takes time and lots of lots of lots of practice.

If you're not quite there yet, no worries—it's a skill that develops over years with a ton of practice and feedback too. You know you're telling instead of showing when an experienced writer is like, "Hey, you're still telling here!" This is why it's important to share your work even if it feels super scary and daunting to do.

Another thing is, sometimes we writers get a bit anxious that our readers won't get what we're trying to say, so we just spell it out for them.

It's like, "My writing might not be clear enough, so let me just tell them exactly what I mean." But hey, we've all been there! It's all part of the learning process. And the best way to get better at something is to keep doing it over and over and over again until we get the hang of it and it gets easier.

Build that writing muscle and keep writing. Hope this helped. Thank you for reading and check you on the next one!

#about writing #writing advice #writing #creative writing #on writing #writing stuff #writing tips #writing help #wrtieblr #creative wrting #wrtiting #writeblr #writingblr #writers on tumblr #writers #advice to self #note to self #how to write #writing resources #writerscommunity #tumblr writers #young writer #show and tell

[richeeduvie]

just having obligatory daily roman tummy thoughts and had an idea <3 roman putting on a little bit of weight after baby jr is born cos they’re just focused on looking after her (read: tummy, hips, thighs, ass) and baby is understandably horny for him but it takes her loving on him for him to feel okay about it

You can't tell Roman that you've noticed his weight - that you love the softness of him now. It's slight, but it's perfect. You remember the dinners where he would order the fattiest thing just to pick at it, the grumble of his stomach when you held him later in the night.

You'll just have to enjoy it until he notices.

Roman takes an obnoxious bite of his candy bar before crumpling the wrapper. Your daughter squirms in his arms.

"Throw this away."

"Do it yourself."

Roman's brows raise as he stands. "Lazy Mommy."

You watch his ass as he takes his way to the garbage can. You watch Roman take your little, little, scrunchy baby's head to his nose as he breathes in.

There's more of him, a softer him. You'll love Roman's body whatever way it comes, but seeing the difference in weight in something new and beautiful.

A softness to grope at.

"...What?"

"Nothing."

"Slutty Mommy. You made me a Daddy and now she's a horndog. I'll see it in the eyes of every sad-sap woman who's probably not being sexually satisfied by their husbands. That sort of flirtatious leer."

I'll. Not I - Roman's not planning on leaving the place anytime soon, as much as you've been trying to convince him that his baby will be just fine in open air.

"But no one, penis possessor or member of the vagina flock, is as much of a whore as your mommy is."

Roman closes his eyes in pressing his nose a bit harder in her soft, small tuft of hair.

"That'll be the last candy bar, I've gotten unfocused and incredibly pudgy."

And it makes him feel like the ugliest fuck in the world. He feels sick, uncontrolled. It's only worth it because it's because of her. A perfect thing he can't stop fucking watching. Amazement, yeah, but also to make sure she's breathing because he'll rip his skin off if she stops breathing. She won't stop breathing.

His weight gains makes you feel incredibly lucky...and horny. You should thank your baby girl. For that - and also for being so perfect.

But he's noticed and the casual insult towards his own body hits a nerve in you. You tilt your head.

"You're focused on our daughter. And you're incredibly hot."

"Shut the fuck - what?"

Roman walks to the couch and puts her in the living room crib. Softly and slowly, you don't think he can ever let her go so casually. But he's making a face when he sits down.

"I didn't know I have a methhead for a wife. I'll call Shiv for the discovery."

"I think the weight looks beautiful on you?"

Roman looks like he's going to say something before his head tilts sharply, eyes down.

"You've noticed. Fuck - I don't-" His head tilts to the side further, the uncomfortable look coming along the whole tilt of his body. You swallow.

You want him to be obnoxious in his beauty.

"She was born two months ago and I've already let my body rot. And you've noticed, am I really that fat?"

It's humorous in pitch, but genuine.

"Roman."

"I've just blown up my fucking glands. I'm a cow in nature. That's not me. You know that's not, like, like me. Right?"

You can't say anything like denial of his weight gain. You can't tell him it's okay that he's gained weight in becoming a father and focusing on his premature daughter. That'll make it worse, it'll be thrown on you.

You sigh, sitting down with him. You take your hand to run through his hair.

What you can do is love. Drown him in it - and it'll be easy because you have it, you want to do it because it sits in your lower stomach and at your heart, not just to make Roman feel better.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Don't fucking bully me. This specific situation doesn't call for arousal. I can't be tickled by this. And I'm not into feederism, that's disgusti-"

"Three meals a day and snacks to enjoy isn't feederism. But what do you want for dinner?"

"Fuck you."

You let Roman ramble, just until he slaps your hand away when you try to touch his stomach.

"What the fuck?! You've noticed the fucking roll there? Why are you being mean about this? You know my worst fear is being- what the fuck?"

You've notice the more of him to love and the way it sits like fire on your muscles. You smile.

Don't pity, don't downplay Roman's issues with food. He never has with yours, just love. At least for now.

"I think you're quite beautiful like this right now. I would really like to touch you right now. Just a fat handful of ass."

Roman doesn't blink, you feel like your tension closes in on his face.

"I love you like this. I need you like this. So shut the fuck up with the crybaby antics over the fact you've gotten to be...like a Daddy."

Your hand comes through his hair, you watch him in his silence.

You smile, nose close on his cheek.

"What? Are you gonna blame her?"

There's a coo, like your baby is denying the thought. The slight lines of Roman's face come up, then down.

"...No."

Roman says it weakly. You wonder if he takes in the smile on his skin. The soft sigh.

You've got him. He doesn't slap when your hand comes on his belly again.

"Then, what do you want for dinner?"

Roman watches your hand on him, the thumb running over. His eyes are finally casual. He's given up the fight, but he has to know he'll never be able to beat out the way you want to consume his body. By now, at least. Even if it doesn't change his insecurities.

It doesn't have to when he gives in so needily.

"...Steak. With asparagus. But with butter."

It's almost mumbled. Still, you mwah his cheek.

"As you wish."

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction

[rebelwrites]

Twenty Five: The Weight Of The World

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

I’m sorry for this 😭😭😭

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

The past twenty four hours had been utter hell, not only was jet lag kicking my ass I also had the club asking me three million questions. I wanted to sleep but my body was refusing, every time I closed my eyes my mind would start racing again, nothing could quiet the voice inside my head.

The only positive thing was Jax woke up.

Slumping down on the outdoor sofa I pulled the blanket over my tired body, placing a cigarette between my lips. I unlocked my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found Charles' name. I needed him here with me but right now I would have to settle for his voice.

After a few rings he picked up.

“Hey Char,” I sighed, taking a long drag of the smoke.

“How you holding up Sunshine?”

“J'ai été meilleur, j'aimerais que tu sois là maintenant. I've been better, I wish you were here now,” I whispered, blinking back tears, “but at least Jax is awake.”

“You sound shattered, have you had any sleep since you got home?” he asked, I knew he would be worrying about me.

“Not really, I have tried but no matter how hard I try my body is fighting it,” I sighed, keeping my gaze focused on the sunrise. “I don’t think I will sleep properly until Jax gets out of hospital to be honest.”

Before Charles could respond the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, luckily I had the backdoor open meaning I heard it. “You have got to be kidding me, who the hell is at the front door at 5am.” I exclaimed, kicking the blanket off my body.

“Maybe it’s Chibs?” Charles questioned.

“Nah, he has a key he’d let himself in but he would let me know he was coming.” I started, tossing the cigarette butt into the metal bucket by the door. “Whoever it is better pray they haven’t just woken Elenor or Pops up otherwise there will be hell to play.” The sound of my boyfriend laughing down the phone caused me to raise an eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it. “What is so funny?” I asked, as I walked through the house without turning any of the lights on.

“You are just too cute, that's all,” he chuckled.

“Well, I won’t be cute when I brutally pull the limbs off the person who is at my door before the sun has fully risen.” I coldly said as I reached the front door.

It took me a few minutes to get all the chains and locks off the door, one of the many things we had to do to keep Pops safe when he started wandering around the house in the middle of the night.

The moment I forcefully yanked the front door open I felt my jaw hit the floor seeing Charles standing there, phone pressed to his ear and back pack thrown over his shoulder with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Do I get to keep my limbs?” he laughed, ending the call and tucking his phone back in his pocket.

“Vous êtes un trou du cul, Charles Leclerc. You're an asshole, Charles Leclerc.” I breathed, shaking my head at the dork who was currently occupying the front porch.

“Oui, mais tu m'aimes. Yes, but you love me,” he smirked, stepping forward to close the gap between us, pulling me into his arms. The sound of his steady heartbeat was what I needed to calm the voices in my mind.

“I can’t believe you are here,” I whispered, refusing to let go of him.

“I wasn’t going to abandon my girl when she needed me the most,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, before guiding me back into the house. “I can only stay for a couple of days though.”

“That’s better than you not being here at all I guess,” I breathed, nuzzling my face further into his hoodie, letting the smell of his aftershave wash over me.

For a few moments the world felt right again.

“Uncle Charlie?” Elenor whispered from the top of the stairs causing me to pull away from Charles.

“What are you doing awake, my little bear?” Charles asked, dropping his backpack by the shoe rack as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs.

“The doorbell woke me up, I thought it was daddy,” she admitted, causing my heart to ache.

“Oh baby,” I said softly, trying to hold back tears once again, “Daddy will have to stay with the Doctors for a little bit longer.” The hardest part of this situation was trying to explain it to Elenor in a way that didn’t traumatize her. “But I promise we can go and see him later.”

After a long week and a half, today was the day Jax was finally allowed home, my emotions were all over the place. I was so happy my brother was being released but also extremely stressed because of the care Jax would need during his recovery.

“Nova, you really need to sleep,” Pascale said, passing me a large cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes. She had been a life saver over the last few weeks, I honestly don’t think I would have coped without her. From the moment we got back to my family home her motherly instincts kicked in, although I don’t think this woman would ever lose them, it was just in her nature, she made sure we ate, had freshly washed clothes and the house was clean.

Elenor loved her and was constantly asking her questions about her son which she found highly amusing and I couldn’t complain, I loved hearing about Charles.

However I think the saving grace with Pascale living with us was how she was with Pops, they got on like a house on fire which made things a lot easier. Especially since Pops’ health had taken a turn for the worse, he was starting to wander the house more during the middle of the night, he was getting angry at every little thing and he was forgetting things we told him pretty much instantly.

“Maman, thank you,” I whispered, flashing her a weak smile, “for everything.”

“Sweetie, you do not need to thank me,” she hummed.

“But you have done so much for my family and you hardly know us.”

“You mean a lot to my son, I have never seen him this happy and I know if he could he would be here, so it is the least I can do.”

Glancing over her shoulder I realized I was late leaving. “Shit, I should have left ten minutes ago,” I sighed, downing the mug of coffee not caring if it burned me. “I will eat these later, I need to get to the hospital.”

The drive back from the hospital was only short but in the space of the last ten minutes Jax had gotten on every one of my last nerves. I was moments away from kicking him outta the car letting him hobble on his crutches the rest of the way home.

“I swear to god, did the nurses give you extra medication to make you ten times more frustrating than normal?” I huffed, turning onto our street.

“What happened to the sweet loving sister, did you leave her back in the hospital?” He shot back, placing a cigarette between his lips.

“I killed her,” I shrugged, clenching my teeth. I knew the recovery period was going to be a tough one and I had a feeling he was going to try and milk the situation, everyone waiting on him hand and foot.

“Who shat on your bike this morning?”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I pulled my battered truck onto the drive next to the bright red Ferrari Purosangue Charles had left, the sight of it made me miss him even more, my heart was calling out for him every day and if I was being honest I was struggling with the distance. The time difference was making things extremely difficult, meaning we were communicating through voicemails and texts.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, running my hands over my face before taking the half smoked cigarette from him, taking a long drag. “I feel like the weight of the world is crushing me into the ground.”

“Squirt, is the club not pulling their weight?” Jax asked, voice full of concern.

“Yeah they are,” I breathed, taking another pull on the smoke, “I dunno, I’m trying to keep everything together but the stress is killing me And to top it all off I miss Char so fucking much.” I could feel the tears starting to burn my eyes, I promised myself I wasn’t going to break down today, everyone was so excited Jax was coming home, especially Elenor.

Jax reached over, taking my hand in his, the look of guilt was written all over his face and I hated it. I still didn’t know the reason why he rode his bike completely wasted, every time I tried to bring it up Jax completely shut down.

The next couple of hours everything was crazy, Elenor hadn’t left her father’s side which made things slightly awkward getting Jax settled back in. Chibs and Nero had done an amazing job in turning Elenor’s play room into a makeshift bedroom for Jax, I knew everyone would want to come and see Jax but I had put my foot down, for the first night I just wanted it to be, me, Jax, Elenor, Pops and Pascale.

Feeling my phone buzz in my back pocket, I flashed Jax a weak smile leaving him cuddled on the sofa with his little girl before making my way outside.

My heart fluttered seeing Charles’ name pop up on my screen, my fingers darted across the screen instantly accepting the call.

“Est-ce que c'est le bon moment, bébé ? Is this a good time, baby?” he asked, his voice was raspy like he had just woken up, but he more than likely had with it being around 6am in Singapore.

“Oui, mon Dieu, ta voix m'a manqué. Yes, my God, I missed your voice,” I breathed, trying to hold back the tears. I had never felt this much emotion hearing someone’s voice before. “I wish you were here with me?”

“Oh Sunshine, I would do anything to be able to hold you in my arms right now, we only have a couple more weeks to get through before I can come to Cali, spending some much needed time with my girls before COTA,” he sighed, pausing a second before speaking again. “Swap onto facetime, I need to see your beautiful face.” A small smile graced my face as I followed his instructions, the moment his face popped up on the screen I couldn’t hold the tears back. “Please don’t cry, I hate seeing you like this.”

Leaning against the back of the sofa, I ran a hand over my cheeks, “Maman has been a life saver,” I whispered, changing the subject.

“I’m glad she is there for you,” he smiled, adjusting his position in bed, giving me more of a view of his bare torso that was only covered by a thin sheet. “How’s Jax doing?”

“More annoying than normal,” I half laughed, my face instantly dropping the moment I heard my name being shouted from inside the house. “God, can’t I just have half an hour to myself,” I growled in frustration. “Baby, I hate to cut this so short, but I’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.”

“Bébé, tu n'as aucune raison de t'excuser, va t'occuper de ta famille et appelle-moi quand tu pourras. Baby, you have nothing to apologize for, go take care of your family and call me when you can.” he whispered, blowing me a kiss.

The last five days had been utter chaos, ever since Jax had come home from the hospital the front door had basically turned into a revolving door, there was always a member or two of the club hanging about.

All the boys wanted to check in on their president and brother.

The house had basically become the new club house, meaning Jax could still take control of everything from his bed, no matter what time of the day it was I could always guarantee there would be at least four Harleys parked on the driveway.

Pops was really struggling with the dramatic change to his environment, the hustle and bustle caused him to lock himself in his bedroom most days making things a lot harder on me, especially since the front door was never locked, I was constantly worried something was going to happen to him when he started wandering about in the middle of the night.

My body was screaming at me to get a good night's rest but with keeping on top of Jax’s medication schedule and making sure Pops was safe, it was proving difficult to get more than a couple of hours. I found myself setting up camp on the living room sofa so I was in between Jax and Pops. The sofa was playing havoc with my back and to top everything off me and Charles hadn’t spoken properly for a couple of days.

As Pascale walked into the living room a heavy sigh left her lips, she could see how hard everything was for Nova, no matter how much help she tried to provide to the young girl it didn’t seem to be doing much to lighten the load. JT’s health was getting worse, over the last week he had at least two outbursts every day.

Armed with a fresh pot of coffee she made her way over to Nova only to find the poor girl passed out on the sofa, her phone still unlocked in her hand. Pascale wasn’t one for prying but she couldn’t help but get a glimpse of the conversation Nova had been having with her son.

Char I am fucking struggling

I feel like I am slipping further into the darkness

I just wish you were here with me, the voices are getting loud in my head again

GOD WHY IS THIS SO FUCKING HARD

Her heart broke for Nova, this wasn’t the same girl she met back in Monza. Placing the phone and mug on the small side table she grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa, slowly covering Nova up before placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

She knew this wasn’t her house but she wasn’t going to let Nova be the next one in hospital, for the first time since Jax had come home there were no members of the club hanging around and Pascale knew this was her only shot, taking a deep breathe she quickly went to check on Jax, who was sound asleep with his daughter snuggled in his arms.

A small smile tugged at her lips seeing the pair of them together, it was clear Jax loved his daughter to bits and she looked up to her father, and she found her mind drifting to thoughts of how Charles would be with a daughter of his own.

Pushing the thoughts aside she exited the room, softly closing the door behind her before making her way to the main entrance of the house, she didn’t know what repercussions her next action would have but right now she didn’t care, all she was focused on was the girl that had stole her son’s heart. Pascale had made a promise to Charles to make sure Nova got enough sleep and she ate and so far she was failing at both things.

Taking a deep breath she locked the front door, making sure the chains were on as she knew some of the members had keys. Once she was satisfied she made her way to the back door doing the same thing.

The sudden sound of movement coming from upstairs quickly peaked her attention, within a matter of minutes she was now on the landing trying to figure out where JT had gone. Over the last day she had noticed how weak he was getting, so she was doing everything she could to get JT back to full health but it was a battle she realized she was quickly losing.

He looked like he was giving up, his body was losing all of its fight and it was only a matter of time before he slipped away peacefully, she hated how there was nothing she could do to fix this situation for Nova and Jax.

“John?” Pascale softly called out.

She was met with silence which caused her to panic.

Slowly she pushed open the door to JT’s room, her heart shattering in the process, the man lying in the bed wasn’t the same person who welcomed her into his home with open arms, instead laid a frail old man who looked like he was on his deathbed.

“Pascale,” he whispered, “I’m afraid I don’t have much time left.”

“JT, don’t say things like that,” she said softly, moving across the room to perch on the edge of the bed, taking his hand in hers. “You have a lot of years left in you, you gotta keep fighting, you need to stick around to see your baby girl get married and have a family of her own.” She could feel herself welling up as she spoke.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I do, my body is giving up on me,” he sighed, “I got to see my sweet angel truly happy, which is all thanks to your son and that is enough for me, I know she is safe in his arms, he will cherish her and treat her like a queen.”

The smile on his face told Pascale he was hiding something.

“What do you know?” she questioned raising her brow at him.

“You can’t tell Nova, but I had a call with Charles today during free practice,” he beamed, as if he was reliving the day. “In all the time I have known that boy I have never known him so nervous.”

“We can’t be talking about the same boy here John,” she chuckled softly, before pausing as the realization hit her, there would be only one reason her son would call JT and be so nervous about it. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried to blink back tears. “Did he?”

“Ask for my blessing to marry my daughter?” he grinned, pausing for a brief moment as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “He sure did, and my only question was why had he waited this long to ask, those two are destined to be together. I knew that the moment they laid eyes on each other.”

Pascale couldn’t believe the words she was hearing, this was the best frame of mind JT had been in all week and judging by the size of the grin on his face he wasn’t getting confused on what was reality or not.

“See, you have to stick around to walk her down the aisle.”

“I have made my peace with this Pascale,” he whispered, squeezing her hand softly. “Thank you for being here for my family, I honestly don’t know if they would have gotten through this without you. Now can you do me a favor and bring my children and granddaughter up here,” he paused, his voice cracking on him as he spoke the next five words.

“It’s time to say goodbye.”

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @burningcupcakefire @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader

[saintsenara]

Not unhinged (by my standards at least) but thoughts on Snape/Harry/Voldemort (or, as I would call it, snarrymort)?

thank you very much for the asks, anons!

and yes, i back this entirely. after all, it's canon...

He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home... But he was home. Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here...

the narrative similarities between these three are so explicit and so deliberate in the text that they make the abandoned boys triad an undeniably hot - and easy-to-justify canon-coherently - ship.

albeit one in which harry - obscenely - is the most emotionally stable...

obviously, you have the shared weight of neglect and grief [even if voldemort won't admit to being scarred by these things], and the attendant longing to be seen and known and comforted [even if none of them will admit to this] among all three.

and they also have a shared hair-trigger temper, love of a good burn, and complicated feelings about james potter.

but there are also various nuances within each individual member of the trio's relationship to the other two which end up weaving a thread binding them together which is genuinely good for everyone's character development.

snape and voldemort are more intellectually compatible than voldemort and harry, but voldemort and harry nonetheless share a fondness for action which snape doesn't have - meaning that voldemort can become a conduit through which snape can come to understand and contextualise what he canonically sees as harry's recklessness.

harry and voldemort have the shared experience of orphanhood, but snape and voldemort have the shared experience of entering the wizarding world as poor nobodies, and facing the prospect of going nowhere because they bear their muggle fathers' names and faces - meaning that, through voldemort, harry can begin to understand and forgive the deeper jealousies which drive snape's belief that he is an arrogant and fame-hungry rich kid.

harry admits in canon - begrudgingly, but he admits it nonetheless - to admiring voldemort [especially when he's hot young] on several occasions. through this, i think he would come to understand what it was about voldemort that enthralled the young snape, and end up being able to approach his decision to become a death eater with nuance. similarly, since voldemort clearly admires [even if this is expressed in canon through a combination of fear and rage] harry, he would be able to come to understand why snape betrayed him out of loyalty to lily through the relationship.

plus, they've got the ideal configuration for a triad in that one prefers to almost exclusively top, one to almost exclusively bottom, and one to do literally anything they're told.

guess who's who.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #snarrymort #harry potter #severus snape #tom riddle #lord voldemort

[bultaoreunheyyy]

The Voice of a Leader (3/3)

Title: The Voice of a Leader 

Word Count: 2015

Summary: Namjoon works through feeling like shit until he can’t any more.

Sickie: Namjoon

Caretakers: OT7

A/N: Written for this request 

This part has a lot of nausea but no actual vomiting and may or may not have a fuck ton of typos

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Namjoon wakes up to Jungkook sprawled out on his bed, one arm and leg on top of him pinning him down as he snores away without a care in the world.

He’s immediately hit with a strange sensation in the back of his throat, one that coupled with the churning in his stomach signals that he might be about to puke.

Namjoon is determined not to let that happen. He swallows repeatedly, jaw clenched as he fights the awful sensation. He feels shivery all over his body, skin prickling with goosebumps even though his face feels like he’s been in the sun too long. He shudders violently and then squeezes his eyes shut until the feeling of nausea passes. 

Eventually, it does, and Namjoon begins to work on freeing himself from the tangle of limbs. When he manages to ease himself out from underneath Jungkook’s weight, he sits up, and the shift of congestion in his head makes his nose prickle uncomfortably. With Jungkook blocking the way, he can’t exactly reach the tissues, so he pulls the blanket up over his face instead and hopes for the best.

The three resulting sneezes come out hoarse and scratch roughly at his throat, bringing tears to his eyes. As he winces and brings a hand up to massage the base of his throat, he hears a soft sniff and looks over to see Jungkook blinking sleepily up at him, rubbing at his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Oh no, hyung,” he murmurs. “Those sounded bad.” He yawns and pulls his arms against his chest, rolling onto his side and curling up so small in contrast to how he was spread out before. “Are you okay?”

“I’m–” The word comes out as a croak and Namjoon stops abruptly when he realizes he still can’t really talk. He clears his throat, frustrated at not being able to use his voice, and more tears well up in his eyes when Jungkook yawns and grabs his phone off the nightstand for him.

Namjoon swipes the back of his hand roughly over his eyes, hoping Jungkook didn’t catch a glimpse of his tears, and looks down at his phone. He types something out and tilts the screen so Jungkook can see.

I’m okay

how did you sleep?

Jungkook yawns, and then smiles tiredly up at him. “How did you sleep? You were snoring so loud the whole night, hyung.”

Guilt courses through Namjoon like a jolt of electricity. His hand clenches around his phone as he tries to type out an apology, but Jungkook seems to know without even seeing his phone screen what he’s doing.

“Don’t feel bad about it, hyung.” 

He says it so simply that Namjoon relaxes a little, his shoulders slumping. He drags a hand down his face. His body is heavy, and the pain in his throat is amplifying with each waking moment. He watches Jungkook yawn again, and feels sad knowing Jungkook will probably catch this from him and have to go through this misery next.  

As if sensing his distress, Jungkook reaches over to squeeze Namjoon’s hand, and then he sits up and stretches his arms above his head. He scoots over so he’s sitting next to Namjoon, resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulders and wrapping his arms around his waist. Jungkook yawns so loudly that Namjoon can hear his jaw pop, and then he moves his hand to his stomach and begins to rub soft, soothing circles, almost absentmindedly, the touch making Namjoon relax even further.  

“I let Seokjin hyung know we’re awake,” Jungkook says around another yawn. “He’s gonna bring you some medicine and breakfast.” 

As if on cue, the door opens, and Seokjin comes in holding a tray. He has water, a bowl of dakjuk and a bottle of medicine, but Namjoon is mainly interested in the water. He gratefully accepts the glass and gulps it down, the cool water soothing his sore throat. 

It’s touch-and-go with his stomach the entire time he’s eating, his discomfort alternating between faint nausea and his burning throat. While Namjoon eats, Jungkook leans against him with his head on his shoulder, quiet as he scrolls through his phone.

As Namjoon finishes the last bite of food he can manage without making himself sick, he glances over at Seokjin and sees that his eyes are glued on Jungkook’s face, smiling fondly at the younger man. Namjoon moves his gaze down and sees that Jungkook has fallen asleep, his head resting on his shoulder and his lips parted just slightly. He hands his bowl over to Seokjin, trying not to jostle Jungkook, smiling as he reaches up to cup the side of Jungkook’s head to hold him steady. 

“Are you up for a bath?” Seokjin whispers. “Or a shower? It might help with the congestion a little.” 

Namjoon grabs his phone, still holding Jungkook against him.

idk if I can stand in the shower but goddamn I want a really hot shower so bad right now

Seokjin bites his lip. “I don’t know about a hot shower,” he says. He presses the palm of his hand to Namjoon’s forehead, then slides it down to his cheek. “You’re already so warm.” 

Namjoon frowns.

plzzzz

a hot hot hot bath?

Seokjin frowns right back.

Namjoon glares down at his phone and opens the group chat.

Yoongi hyung, would you mind if I borrow one of your bath bombs for a HOT bath?

Yoongi texts back immediately, responding that he’ll start the water right away, and Namjoon smirks triumphantly as he types out one last message: extra hot pretty please since I’m sick :( 

“You’re impossible,” Seokjin whispers as he watches the message come through, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes again, and the sound wakes Jungkook up with a start.

“Huh?” He smacks his lips together and looks blearily back and forth between Namjoon and Seokjin. “What?”

Namjoon chuckles, which comes out as more of a squeak, and shakes his head, mouthing an apology to Jungkook. 

Seokjin reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. “I’m gonna borrow Namjoonie for a bath,” he tells Jungkook. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry.” 

When Namjoon gets out of bed, he feels heavy and has to blink against a wave of dizziness before he can begin to walk. Seokjin sticks close to his side as he guides him into the bathroom, where Yoongi is already waiting. They both help him out of his clothes, and he doesn’t miss the way they frown at each other when he shivers violently at the loss of warmth.

“Want me to get in with you?” Yoongi asks, his hand resting on the small of Namjoon’s back.

Namjoon nods, knowing he’s probably too weak to do everything by himself, and Yoongi quickly strips down to his boxers and climbs into the tub with him. 

The hot water feels incredible, warming him instantly and helping to soothe the aches in his muscles. “Fuck,” Namjoon croaks blissfully, barely making a sound. He clears his throat and winces at the pain, but he still attempts to speak because he needs Yoongi to know how grateful he is. “Thank you for actually making it hot,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Stop talking,” Yoongi scolds, “You’re going to make it worse.”

Namjoon doesn’t know how it could get any worse, but he closes his mouth and presses his lips together. Yoongi’s expression softens, and he rubs Namjoon’s arm.

“Sorry,” he says with a sigh. “I know it must be frustrating.”

Namjoon lets his silence be his response. He closes his eyes, and Yoongi sighs again and begins to wash his hair for him, taking time to massage his scalp before moving down to his neck and shoulders. Namjoon falls asleep twice, drowsy from the hot water and the gentle, comforting ministrations, and when he’s woken by the sound of the water draining he groans in disappointment. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Yoongi murmurs apologetically. Somehow, he’s already out of the tub and changed back into his clothes. “I’ll let you get dried off and dressed,” he says, handing Namjoon a towel. He gestures at Namjoon’s phone on the counter. “Text us if you need anything.” He leaves, closing the door behind him, and Namjoon wraps the towel around his waist, shivering slightly now that he’s out of the warm water.

As he steps out of the bath, a wave of nausea washes over him, and he sits down heavily on the edge of the tub, wrapping one arm around his midsection. For nearly ten minutes he sits there, uncertain if he’ll actually get sick or not, but not wanting to leave the bathroom or even stand up just in case. He’s cold now, shivering and achy, and the longer he sits there the more tired he feels. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Namjoon blinks back tears he hadn’t realized were there. 

“Hey?” The door opens and Seokjin sticks his head into the bathroom. “Everything okay in here?” He eyes Namjoon, still sitting on the edge of the tub, and then the pajamas still folded in a neat stack on the counter. 

Without a word, he helps Namjoon get dressed, towel drying his short hair and helping him brush his teeth and freshen up afterwards. 

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Seokjin asks. “Or would you prefer to lie on the couch?”

Namjoon points to the living room.

“Good,” Seokjin chuckles. “Because Jungkook fell asleep in your bed again and he’s literally taking up the entire bed. He’s like a starfish.”

Namjoon chuckles soundlessly along at that, easily imagining Jungkook sprawled out on his bed like he had been earlier. 

After Seokjin helps him get settled on the couch, Namjoon finds himself drifting in and out of sleep, unable to do much except lie there. He feels it when his temperature climbs again, making the achiness in his body worsen and his chills increase until he’s shivering under his blanket, jaw clenched to fight against the chattering of his teeth.

That’s how Jimin and Taehyung find him when they return from their trip to the store, arms loaded with bags full of throat lozenges and ice pops and enough tissues to last the seven of them a couple of months at least– or a couple of weeks, if Jungkook gets his hands on them.

“Oh, hyung,” Jimin tuts, pressing the back of his hand to Namjoon’s overheated cheek. “You’re burning up.” He helps Namjoon sit up so he can drink some water with another dose of medicine.

Taehyung finishes unpacking the groceries in the kitchen and then returns with three ice pops, handing one to Namjoon and one to Jimn.

The ice pop feels soothing on Namjoon’s sore throat, and he closes his eyes and he sucks on it, half sitting and half lying against Jimin. 

“He’s falling asleep,” he hears Taehyung say, his voice sounding far away and distorted, and then he feels someone taking the half-eaten ice pop from his hands. 

Something cold touches his forehead, making him shiver, but then he’s wrapped up in a blanket as Jimin and Taehyung ease him back into a reclined position, warm hands soothing over his arms and carding through his hair until he falls asleep. 

Later, when he wakes up drenched in sweat, Hoseok is there with a fresh change of pajamas. Hoseok sits on the couch with him and puts on a documentary they’ve both been wanting to watch. He stays at the other end of the couch, mindful of germs, but he pulls Namjoon’s feet into his lap.

Even though Namjoon can feel himself dozing off again less than fifteen minutes in, he’s grateful for Hoseok’s presence, knowing that his friend will happily rewatch the documentary with him when he’s feeling better. The last thing he feels before he succumbs to sleep is Hoseok pulling the blanket over his feet, making sure he’s properly tucked in so every part of him stays warm and comfortable. 

#bts sickfic #sickfic #sick bts #fever #bts emeto #bts snz #sick namjoon #caretaker yoongi #caretaker taehyung #caretaker hoseok #caretaker seokjin #caretaker jungkook #caretaker jimin #bts hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

[stromer]

oh this is awful.

#emo ass post game. #i’m not feeling well #carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and you can see it all in that face. #nico hischier

[chaosandmarigolds]

Ya know how everyone is like Simon is black cat energy- well, I don't deny he can be like that what I would like to counter with is black lab energy around the person he's most comfortable with

Simon, who drags you on his morning runs because he will spend the entire time talking about trucks or something boyish

ie: "And so then you gotta- baby? Why'd ya stop?"

"We-just-" heave, "Ran a fort-four miniute-" heave, "mile."

"Yeah? Cmon, six miles today."

Simon, who will do push ups before bed if he has too much energy and knows he will just toss and turn

Simon, who loops a finger in your belt loop whenever you're shopping because lord knows that man has separation anxiety

Simon, who did once hide your shoes when he knew you had to leave super early in the morning so you would be forced to wake him up to ask him where he put them

"Simon."

Hes been awake, obviously, the phone praticallly thrown at the wall when you opened the door was an indicator, "Mm, noo. sleep."

"Simon O'Donnel Riley I swear to god if you don't give my shoes right now-!"

"...I require somethin' in return."

"You birts and your taxes, 'm going barefoot."

Simon who loves intimacy, yeah sex but he likes being close, like if he squeezed you any closer he may actually break your bones on accident

Simon, who doesn't tell you this but that one time when you got the flu? he had the time of his life, normally because you're the one cleaning him up after missions, tending to his needs, and he liked being able to do the same to you

Simon, who has the worst (best) puppy eyes you've ever seen

"one kiss."

"I have a face mask on, do you want to kiss me when I look like a taxidermy panda?" You reply with a frown, book in lap and craning your neck to see your boyfriend from how he leaned over the sofa.

He blinks at your reply and the next thing you are aware of he's laying atop of you on the sofa completely trapping you under his weight, "Jus take it off if it bugs ya tha' much."

You playfully pout your bottom lip out, "But it's supposed to be on for twenty minutes. It's been ten."

"But I wan a kiss."

"But I want to have a pretty face."

Then it was his turn to playfully pout, "You have the prettiest face."

(long story short you obvious gave in cause...I would so therefore so do you <3 )

Simon, who goes from loving and doting boyfriend to scary military man as soon as he gets out of the car

Simon, who is aware you have a video of him baby talking that you took when he wasn't aware that you were recording

(yes based off that one tiktok, I laugh every time I see it)

Simon, who hates pecks but loves giving them, like this man will just hold your face and shower you with kisses for minutes on end (its his hobby or something)

Annnnyway thats it! feedback and comments, an alllll that jazz mean the world to me! <333

#simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon fluff #cod soap #cod ghost #cod imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #simon ghost fluff #ghost #ghost imagine #dad!simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

[p3terparker]

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield fluff #andrew garfield smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #spiderman smut #peter parker blurbs #peter parker imagines #spiderman #andrew garfield #tom holland #marvel #peterparkerblurbs

[nanaslutt]

The JJK men’s fav cuddling postitions <3

incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuuji, Yuta

cont: fluff :3, suggestive on Toji’s

note: i think this is my first full fluff fic…lol

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

I know Gojo absolutely loves every position he can get you both into where you are physically as close as possible. Gojo's infinity is on automatically most of the time, the only touch he receives being from his students occasionally or from you. So when the time comes around for Gojo to be cuddled up with you, he needs to make sure every part of his body is touching some part of you.

I can see him being a fan of face-to-face cuddling, your limbs intertwined with one another, either his or your face pressed into the other's chest, your soft breathing tickling the skin of the other. Maybe something like the 'attack of the sloth' sleeping position. You on your back, Gojo's arms and legs wrapped around yours, leaving you completely enabled, his weight crushing you when you sleep; but you never complain.. well.. sometimes you do, Gojo's body is like a furnace.

Sometimes though, Gojo wants you to spoon him from behind. Of course, he loves it the other way around but theres just something so comforting about your small frame wrapped around his back. He feels so safe in your arms like this. He gets the same feeling one would when they were a kid, afraid of what was lurking in the dark, but the moment they pulled the blanket over their head, they were safe. Gojo felt untouchable, even more so than when he had his infinity on.

Geto:

A classic man, a simple man, a man of taste. I can see Geto loving the pretzel position. Him lying on his back, his toned arm above his head while his other wraps around your frame resting against him. His leg closest to you is bent, enabling you to interlace your leg with his, the appendage thrown over his thigh. He relishes in the feeling of your arm wrapped around his midsection, feeling safe and secure when you tuck you curl your fingers into his t-shirt on the side of his body.

He loves this position because he loves how close to you he feels, he also likes to see the size difference between the two of you when you're scooted down, your head on his chest. Another plus is he can scratch your back gently this way. His hands always find their way under your shirt, gently tickling and scratching the skin of your back, shoulders, and waist. He adores hearing you hum softly into his chest in approval at the relaxing caress.

You love this position for a variety of reasons as well. With your head on his chest, directly placed over his heart, you have free, unlimited access to the soothing rhythm of his softly beating heart, never failing to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You yourself were also guilty of slipping your hand under his shirt to feel up his abs. Running your fingers over the strong indents, counting them carefully in your head over and over, was the same to you as counting sheep. His skin was always so soft and warm, how could you resist?

Nanami:

Nanami's go-to is having you lay fully atop him, your head on the center of his chest, your bodies resting against one another while he strokes your hair. softly running his hands along your head, raking his fingers on the back of your neck, massaging your head, the whole nine yards. Nanami doesn't stop until he hears you lightly snoring on top of him.

Another thing about Nanami--if you drool or snore in your sleep, Nanami thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You're always so embarrassed when you wake up and see the wet patch on his shirt after you had a particularly deep sleep, but Nanami finds it endearing; it means you felt safe with him, your body fully relaxing and letting go in his presence.

Another favorite is good ol' spooning. Nanami loves to be the big spoon. With both of your jobs as Jujutsu sourcerers, comes harrowing losses and injuries one cannot prevent, no matter how hard they try. So when Nanami gets the opportunity to completely encase your body in his strong, protective arms, it eases his nerves. He is constantly worrying about you, but in this moment he knows, nothing will touch you, nothing will get past his loving embrace.

This position gives Nanami unlimited access to the back of your neck. His lips instantly connecting with the soft skin, pressing soft kisses to the skin there, peppering down your shoulders, his fingers moving your nightshirt out of the way to touch your skin directly--god he loved kissing you. Your skin was so sweet and warm, how was he not supposed to kiss it? It was right in front of him after all.

Choso:

I have said this about Choso countless times, but he is a titty man.. so of course he's going to lay his head on top of your chest. He loves to feel the softness of your breasts agaisnt his cheek--if you have bigger breasts, you better bet he will lay face down and squish your tits around his face, holding his breath while he presses the fat against him, relishing in the feeling of your soft tits on his face.

His hands are without a doubt, on your chest as well. His large, warm hands engulf your tits in his grip, unconsciously feeling you up in his slumber, making you smile and laugh to yourself. He also loves wrapping his arms fully around your body too. The curse nuzzles his head against your chest while he slides his hands under the small of your back, his hands tickling the sides of your waist and back softly with the little mobility he has like this.

He has never felt love like this before, so when he feels your hands wrap around his back like it's the most natural thing in the world, it has his face heating up, a deep crimson blush spreading across his face while you rub his back, your nails raking over his back, over or under the thin material of his shirt. No matter how often the two of you cuddle together like this, he never fails to mumble how much he loves you into your chest, occasionally raising his head to look at you with a pout, still embarrassed even after all the time you spend together.

When you lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, your fingers caressing his cheek before he drops his head back down to your chest to welcome the embrace of your arms around his body, he swears he's the luckiest man in the world.

Sukuna:

Your wrists and ankles are bound in chains while you sleep at the feet of his throne completely naked. <3

Toji:

I can see Toji being a fan of the 'pretzel' as well, same as Suguru. He gets a little more handsy most times, the hand he has wrapped around your back will creep down to the waistline of your night shorts. His thick fingers slip underneath the waistband, sliding under the band of your underwear as well as he grips as handful of your ass, massaging the fat in his hand, squeezing and rubbing it with his fingers.

At first, he did it as a way to tease you, and it worked, you always lifted your head to give him a stern look while he continued to massage the skin. Over time though, It became a comfort thing for the both of you. Whenever you're tired but Toji isn't, he'll turn down the volume of the TV in your shared bedroom and let you get comfortable on his chest, your ear resting where his arm and torso meet. He slides his arm around your frame, smiling to himself when you nuzzle and cozy up to him, his hand sliding down your back, rubbing up and down a couple times while you get situated.

When you get yourself to your desired position, throwing your leg over his hip; which meets his hand as he grabs it and pulls you over his pelvis more, caressing the side of your thigh soothingly; he slides his fingers into your underwear and stares groping you, his warm hands bringing you instant comfort, and familiarity. He'll continue to absentmindedly feel you up while he watches his show, his eyes occasionally darting down to look at you with softness in his eyes before he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, drifting off soon after, leaving the TV running all night, as usual.

Megumi:

I imagine Megumi being super touchy with his significant other in private once he gets comfortable with you, but I still see him being a little awkward and shy about cuddling with you. It's so intimate after all. The two of you probably started with you lying on his chest with your hand resting on his tummy, you would have to make the first move because Megumi would rather die than initiate something like that at first, no matter how badly his body was itching to feel your warmth against him.

His body would go completely rigid when you laid on him out of nowhere. Megumi would hold his breath, not daring to move even in inches in fear you would move off of him. The weight of your head and your hand that was softly rubbing his tummy felt so comforting, although it did make goosebumps rise all over his body in shock. You would have to tip your head down to avoid him seeing your smile from hearing his heartbeat race out of his chest, the organ taking a significant amount of time before he gets used to your embrace, the rhythm slowing.

After a while of being together and countless cuddling sessions, I can see Megumi being more confident in initiating cuddle sessions when the two of you are watching TV or getting ready to go to sleep. His favorite positions are all of you cuddling him. You spooning him, him lying on your chest while his legs intertwine with yours--any position where your hands are wrapped around him and constantly caressing him in some way he is a huge fan of.

He also loves listening to your heartbeat. He didnt understand how you were always so calm, the soft lulling rhythm never failing to take him away to dreamland. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time you even smiled at him, but that was one of the things he loved about you--someone had to initiate the intimacy in the relationship and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him. If you weren't so forward, it probably would've taken him a year to even hold your hand on his own, so he was grateful you were more forward and verbal with what you wanted, because internally, he wanted the same as you, it just took a little coaxing to get him there.

Yuuij:

Yuuji has no preference! He loves each and every position, he just loves to cuddle with you. If he could always be touching you in some way, he would, and he sure as hell tries. You want to lay on his chest while he rubs your back? done. You want to spoon his large frame and wrap your leg over his waist while his fingers tickle your calf? done. Yuuji is ready for each and every cuddle position you propose to him, and he is not afraid in the slightest to initiate the cuddle sessions either.

I think Yuuji would find great joy in lifting your shirt up and crawling inside as much as his body could fit. His head resting on the soft skin of your tummy while your shirt blocks out most of the light emanating from the TV. "It feels like I'm a baby again." He would say, holding your hips in his hands on the outside of your shirt, his fingers tickling unconsciously along your sides, making you giggle.

I think Yuuji would really like coming home exhausted from training to sit in your lap and lay his head on your shoulder, his back arching slightly from the height difference between the two of you. He would hum into the crook of your neck while you stroked his back, raking your nails along him. He would smile to himself and close his eyes when you lift his shirt, scratching his warm skin directly while he falls asleep on your lap for a midday nap.

He was quite heavy and you're unable to breathe very well while he sleeps, but luckily he never naps long, and you do admit his weight crushing you felt weirdly nice, along with the ticklish puffs of his breath against your neck--it makes you feel close to him.

Yuta:

Yuta is a big baby. He handles enough in the Jujutsu world, trying to keep up his tough, strong persona while fighting, all he really wants when he comes to you is to relax completely in your embrace. Another man who loves it when you cuddle him from behind. He loves feeling your leg wrap over his waist, he knows he's not small, but he loves to feel like it sometimes, it's comforting.

One of his favorite positions to cuddle with you during the day is his head on your tummy/pelvis, his hands stroking along the length of your waist while you tangle your hands in his hair, running your nails over his sensitive scalp, down the back of his neck, reaching as much of his back as you can. It lulls him right to sleep, and he loves it. I think Yuta would struggle with falling asleep/sleeping through the night from insomnia, but when you're touching him, your warm embrace engulfing his body, he almost forgets about all the sleepless nights he spent without you by his side.

I can also see him loving to cuddle while facing you. Your head in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, and you likewise. Your legs tangled together, your bodies pressed as close as possible. During the summertime, this position is not the most comfortable because of the heat and the somehow awful AC Jujutsu high has. So during the colder months, the two of you constantly find yourselves in this position. He keeps his hand pressed snugly to the back of your neck, making sure your forehead stays pressed to his neck at all times.

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