#anyways i should come up with a tag for these

[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[mischievousmoony]

𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛

⟢ james potter x reader (who is skilled at gift wrapping) ⟢ you and james wrap christmas gifts for your kids last minute ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings? lmk if i missed anything

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The crisp rustle of wrapping paper tears through the air as you unravel a sheet long enough for a rather larger box. 

You and your husband, decked in matching holiday pajamas, are sitting on the dark hardwood floor of your bedroom. Surrounding you are various presents that you’re working tirelessly to wrap late this Christmas Eve. 

“Why do we do this every year? Scratch that— why do I let you convince me to do this every year?” you suddenly ask when you get a glimpse of the clock on your nightstand. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asks on an exhale of airy laughter. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum as you measure out how much paper you’ll need. “Just trying to figure out how I let myself marry a chronic procrastinator. And how I let him be such a bad influence on me.”

James falters, dropping the flaps of snowflake-decorated paper he was about to tape down. 

“A chronic procrastinator? A bad influence!?”

You press your lips together to hold back a smile. “Keep wrapping. It’s almost three in the morning,” you say as your scissors satisfyingly glide through the wrapping paper. 

“No,” James protests, pushing the gift away from him and crossing his arms petulantly. “Not until we address your little comment.”

“See, you’re procrastinating right now by trying to start a debate about whether or not you have a problem,” you tease, your lips involuntarily turning up at the corners.

“It sounds like you want to finish the wrapping by yourself,” he jokes, but you both know he’d never leave you hanging. 

“Oh, come on,” you laugh. “If we had it my way the presents would have been wrapped ages ago. They would’ve been wrapped the moment we brought them home.”

“Why would we wrap one present at a time when we could wait and wrap them all at once?” 

“Only a chronic procrastinator would ask why we should get ahead on our tasks.”

James knows you’ve got him there, so all he can do is huff. “Stop saying procrastinate it doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“Alright, slacker,” you say through a grin.

James rolls his eyes dramatically as he repositions himself from sitting up to lying on his side. “I’m not a slacker,” he says, propping his head up on his elbow, “I just want to be efficient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as James denies his tendency for putting off his tasks as he gets comfortable in front of a half-wrapped present. 

“Yeah, real efficient,” you say as you carefully fold the paper at the corners, creating perfect trapezoids on the sides of the box, which you tape down with a small square of sellotape. 

He takes notice of the look you gave him, and provides an excuse. “I’m just taking a break.” 

“This is the definition of slacking, by the way. C’mon we’re going to be dead tired tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine, it’s only 3 a.m.,” James says as if it’s barely midnight. Regardless, he pushes himself back into a seated position and finishes taping down the paper over the box that holds a new toy truck for you son.

“Last Christmas the kids were jumping in our beds by seven,” you say, very matter-of-factly. 

“If they’re awake that early I’ll corral them to the kitchen and make a big breakfast with them to give you an extra hour,” he promises as he reaches for a new roll of wrapping paper— a dark green one with cartoon reindeers printed all over.

“You need sleep too.”

James shrugs. “Well, it was my fault we procrastinated wrapping these anyway.”

“Oh? So you admit it now?”

“What can I say? Is it so bad that after we put the kids down and I was all alone with my beautiful wife I’d rather cuddle or catch up on our shows or… other things.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Other things?” you snort. 

“Yeah. Wanna do them right now?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“James!” you scold him as a blush heats your face. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll focus.” He reaches for the slowly dwindling pile of presents and picks one that looks easy to wrap. You both prefer to leave the more complicated ones to you, as you always seem to have some unique way to wrap the strangest shapes. 

“Not that one!” you stop him. “That one’s from Santa, you have to use the shiny red paper and the golden bows.” 

“What? I picked this one,” he says, turning over the box of a new doll for your daughter. “I don’t want to give Santa all the credit!” James pouts. 

“And you’ll get it. In about ten years, give or take, when we tell them it was all a lie in the name of Christmas spirit.” 

James laughs and takes a look at the clock that reads 3:16 a.m. Santa can have this one, James decides. Even if he did continue to protest, you would probably convince him in the end. 

For the next twenty minutes, you two get lost in the rhythm of wrapping. With James handling the simple boxes, and you expertly finishing the oddly shaped ones, folding the paper in ways that obscure the gift’s silhouette while adding an elegant touch. 

You know your kids won’t give the wrapping a second thought, and it will all end up torn into bits on the floor, but you just love the way they all look under the tree. So perfectly arranged and beautifully wrapped, it makes Christmas feel all the more special.

As you straighten out a bow made from hand curled ribbons on the top of a dollhouse, pre-assembled for play tomorrow morning, James hisses and drops the paper he’s working with. You look up at him as he brings his finger up to his lips.

“Ow, ow!” 

“Y’alright?” you ask. 

“I’ve been injured! Wounded! No one told me how hazardous gift wrapping would be!” he wails dramatically, cradling his right hand with his left. 

You laugh at the sight of him, gathering that he has probably gotten a paper cut. Shuffling over to him on your knees, you outstretch your hand. “Let me see.”

He puts his hand in yours and you turn it over to inspect his pointer finger. It takes you half a minute to find the small slice in the top layer of skin. It’s nearly impossible to see, and you’re sure the pain has subsided now. Still, you bring his hand to your lips and press a soft kiss over the small cut. 

“Better?” you mumble against his skin. 

“Almost. I think I have another injury right here.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes to find him tapping his lips, puckered and awaiting a kiss. 

You shake your head at his antics but oblige him anyway and connect your lips in a gentle kiss. James’ right hand snakes out of your grip so he can wrap it around your waist to hold you into the kiss for a little longer. 

“Come on,” you say as you begin to pull away, “we only have a few more presents between us and those fresh homemade cookies laying out for Santa.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[rubyin-wonderland]

Jealous Boy

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: When your drink is taking too long to make, a stranger makes his intentions known. Zoro isn't pleased.

WC: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: getting hit on, jealous Zoro

The bar has never been your scene. You aren't exactly fond of alcohol and while you can enjoy a lively locale, bars just don't do it for you. You'll put up with a few drinks for your crew, as long as everyone else is drinking as well, but that's it.

You know Zoro likes to drink. However, his social preference leans toward sitting alone nursing a bottle, instead of sipping from a glass surrounded by fellow drunks.

For the sake of the crew, the both of you go to bars whenever asked. The two of you rarely go out of your way to call attention to yourselves, but you have fun nonetheless.

You sit up at the bar, waiting for your drink. Everyone else is waiting at the table for you to rejoin them, but you've put in a complicated order apparently, so you must wait.

At first, Zoro had stayed with you, but when it was clear you would be staying there for a while, you urged him to go back with the others while you waited.

The wait has been long, and you wonder if the bartender is even trying to get something for you at all when you feel a presence at your side.

A stranger has sat down next to you. He's around your age and clearly local. You offer him a half hearted smile and turn away, trying not to engage.

You aren't exactly a big talker. At least not to drunken strangers at bars.

He orders his drink and it arrives almost immediately. You try not to look offended when his drink arrives and you begin to question if anyone is even working on your drink in the first place.

The man next to you taps the bar and a bartender arrives almost instantly, practically summoned to your neighbors call. "Get my friend here something too, okay?"

The bartender looks at you and you realize after one long second of blank staring that he's waiting for you to order. You repeat what you want and the bartender immediately gets to work, instead of ducking behind the counter and ignoring you like you hadn't even ordered.

"Thanks." You mumble to the stranger.

"No problem." He gives you a friendly smile and this time you feel as though you should put some actual effort into smiling back.

"So, what's someone like you doing in a place like this?" The line is overused, and less than enticing, but you entertain him anyways. "I'm trying to drink. The day is behind me, and so are my faults."

The stranger smiles as the bartender arrives with your drink, and you thank him.

You turn to leave, to go back to your friends, but the stranger speaks up again. "You're not from here." You turn to face him again. "Good catch." "How long are you staying?" His tone is getting more suggestive than you'd like.

"I'm staying for as long as my boat is docked." "Will it be docked," a suggestive grin appears on his face, "overnight?" He raises an eyebrow and you lean back, surprised and a little taken aback at his confidence. "What are you implying?" You ask, raising a brow.

"I think you know." He winks and you resist the urge to run away. "If you're up for it now, we can finish our drinks and leave before things get rowdy in here." You laugh at his advance, mostly out of shock. "Wow. You are something."

Zoro watches this whole interaction like a hawk. He has positioned himself at the table to assure the best view of you while you wait for your drink. Instead, he's forced to watch some idiot attempt to flirt with you. His eyes are laser focused on the stranger's head. He wants to put that man on his ass for even talking to you. For sidling up to you and convincing the bartender to fix your drink, unlike the one that ducked behind a curtain immediately after taking your order.

He watches the man's lips, deciphering the words as they come out. He sees the man call you "his friend" to get you your drink faster. He sees the cheesy pick up line and has to stop himself from grimacing at the rather pathetic attempts at wooing you. He sees the smile crossing the stranger's face and feels palpable disgust at the sight of it.

Worry sinks through his stomach and spreads through his veins as he tries to see any indication of reciprocity on your end. Your back is facing him. He's terrified that this man has managed to charm you, knowing full well he's not the most romantic of partners. He's no charmer, but you picked him, he picked you, and that is worth your loyalty.

Nami briefly snaps him out of his anger fueled trance. "Zoro. Did you hear a thing I just said?"

He frowns at her for breaking his concentration. "No. What?" "I wanted to know if our missing crewmate," she gestures at the empty spot in between him and Usopp in the booth, "has a drink yet. Since you insisted on facing the bar, I thought you'd know."

"Yeah, the drink's there. But some asshole is being chatty."

Nami raises an eyebrow and turns to look, seeing your conversation. "Jealous?" She tries to ask, just in time for Zoro to read the words "docked overnight" on the man's lips, a flirtatious eyebrow raise added to the words. What is he proposing? Zoro feels an extra bout of rage when he hears your surprised laugh. His vision is nearly red. In an act of necessity, he pushes out of the booth, trying to look as calm and collected as he can while he pushes through the bar, eventually ending up behind you.

"If you think I'm something now, just wait." The stranger gives you a sly grin that looks a little wrong, before it slides off his face completely. His eyes focus on something behind you. You turn to look, and a wave of relief hits you to see Zoro standing there.

You notice almost immediately that his hand is not at his side, or lazily hung over the hilt of his blade, but gripping it, as if ready to pull it out and demonstrate his swordsmanship in front of the entire bar.

"Hey Zoro, what's up?" You ask as kindly as you can, hoping he's there to bring you back to the table.

"We were wondering what was taking you so long." He says, his voice as level as he can keep it. "Oh, I just got caught up in conversation. No big deal." You give the stranger a false apologetic smile and reach down to pick up your drink.

"My offer stands for as long as I'm here." He slips a small piece of paper across the bar, his hand grazing yours as the paper slips under the pads of your fingers. Next to you, Zoro straightens up a little more, trying to look bigger, more intimidating. Like a threat. Because he is. The only physical thing keeping that man from a bunch of broken bones is you.

Your hand retreats, pulling the paper up with it, and carrying the drink closer to you, not even muttering a goodbye. Only turning back to give him a half smile just as Zoro shoots another death glare his way.

On the walk back to the table, you tap Zoro's hand with the death grip on his sword. "Relax." You order. He lets go, the tension still present in his hand. "Thanks for getting me." You smile, for real this time. "I was not having fun."

That lightens Zoro's mood. At least you didn't like the stranger too. It makes him feel a little proud for seeing it.

You slide into the booth without much fanfare, there's acknowledgement, but the conversations continue pretty quickly without you.

"You don't have to be such a jealous boy, Roronoa." You murmur under your breath, your hand gently patting his leg under the table. He's still tense, and his eyes keep shooting back to the bar, where the man frequently glances back at you. Zoro has shifted slightly closer to you about five separate times.

Zoro stiffens at your accusation. "Excuse you?" "Stop looking at that man at the bar. I'm not sitting with him anymore. I'm right here. Looking at you. Not him. You "

He grunts in return, slipping just a tiny bit closer to you, pushing the limits for his sheaths. They're starting to tug on the fabric of the booth, so he opts to tug you closer to him, an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You pull the paper out of your pocket and set it on the table. "Are you worried about this?" You unfold it, revealing an address. Likely to the man's house. "You don't have to worry, Zoro. That's one hell of a walk. I'd never go for it."

He rolls his eyes and you laugh at him. One loud, short noise. "I wasn't going to accept his offer, if you were afraid that was ever going to happen."

"I wasn't afraid of that." He scoffs, looking away from both you and the man at the bar. "Sure you weren't." Your arms are crossed as you sit back lazily in the seat.

"Don't say it like that. I knew you wouldn't." "Sure you did."

He rolls his eyes again, and you refrain from joking about how he could fix a wagon with the amount his eyes were rolling.

Instead, you decide to play a game. "Though, he did seem quite charming. Perhaps I'll go see if he can get me a second round?" You swirl your drink, which is still half full, but the ice rattles against the glass.

You move to stand but you're pulled down. Two hands, one on each side of your waist, settle you back into the seat, right next to Zoro, closer than before, if that was even possible.

"Not so fast." He says, pulling you even closer, so that your leg presses against his. He speaks as if he has just volunteered to save you from an active volcano. "I can get your drinks."

"And leave me alone at the table? What if a handsome young man approaches me? You won't be here to fend him off." You tease, resting your chin on his shoulder, a wicked grin on your face.

"You're impossible." "Come on, Zoro." You loop your arm through his, running your hand lightly along his forearms. "You like the challenge. It makes you feel stronger when you win."

You press a feather light kiss to his cheek. "And you did, by the way." He furrows his brow in confusion. "You won. I don't even remember what that guy at the bar looks like."

A proud smile makes its way to his face. "You're right. I do feel stronger." He puffs his chest up a bit and you suppress a giggle at the action.

"Don't worry about losing." You now snake your arm around him, pressing ever closer, until there's no space left in between your bodies. You even cross your ankle with his, touching all the way from your shoulders to your heels "I don't think you can."

He smiles at you as you take a sip of the drink, crumpling up the piece of paper slipped to you at the bar, discarding it on the floor, to be trampled on by a million feet. "You have my heart Zoro. Only you."

[ellouchi]

Jimmy dating headcannons (sfw/gn reader)

Disclaimer: this work contains unhealthy interpersonal practices and elements of abuse.

Side note: this was going to be LONGER and include nsfw but I've decided it's better to divide everything into parts. Finally getting this out because there is a critical shortage of Jimmy x reader works (cries and picks up a pen). Let me know if I missed something or made a mistake.

Enjoy!

— ok starting with the fluff: Jimmy feels too embarrassed to properly hold your hand, like some small shy boy. He will make it seem like you've the one who acts childish of course, holds your hand if you plead enough and only for a minute in public, for a bit more when in private. You can be lucky enough to tag after him holding his sleeve if he feels like it. Jimmy secretly loves to hold your wrist, especially in a tight grip, feeling your pulse beating under your skin (he is like a handcuff).

— Jimmy doesn't say "I love you", not in a usual sense. Instead it's always alternatives like common "You make me feel all warm and stupid inside" and the most rare "You mean a lot to me" spoken in a quiet sincere tone. Unfortunately "I love you"s are reserved for manipulation. He knows it gets people very compliant or/and defenseless. It doesn't do any harm anyway because he's merely speaking the truth. It's actually a litmus test if you love him or not, so be very careful with your words during those moments.

— primarily uses your name or alias you go with instead of pet names. Sometimes, Jimmy would use baby, babe, sweet cheeks (bear with me); dear, darling and love when he's pissed off or he tries to be condescending.

— Jimmy has a preconceived notion that your parents/family wouldn't like him, he has enough self awareness for that. Because of this, he'll try to make it seem like he's better than he is, so you better play along. If your family hates his guts, Jim doubles down, resulting in both parties wagging a war. Doesn't give a fuck about them at all after that disastrous first meeting. However, if somehow you family did take a liking to Jimmy, he's glad....but also puzzled. I think Jim has had shitty childhood, so when he is treated like a proper family member, he's lost. He doesn't want to see your family often because of his complicated feelings, but makes exceptions for the special occasions.

— Jimmy knows and remembers things about you to the points it's both scary and impressive: likes and dislikes, fears, dreams, ambitions etc. On the more positive side, this includes songs, books, movies, comics and anything like that — even if he doesn't like it, he has an understanding of what it is. If you call him out, Jimmy either says he doesn't care (he does, so much actually) or says "Of course I do, you can't shut up about [thing]" (lies).

— Jimmy doesn't have a lot of free time on his hands. If both of you are free, that means you are spending this time with him. No, your plans won't matter if they exclude Jim out of the picture. This involves discouraging you or outright sabotaging you. As per usual, he wouldn't find anything wrong with this kind of behaviour. You should just stop being unreasonable and spend some time with your lover. Look, he even went out of his way to find a movie you two would enjoy watching.

— birthdays with Jimmy are weird (if you could tell from the game). If you look forward to them, so does he; if you don't, well he congratulates you when the day comes and that's about it. It's much worse when the gifts are involved, because Jimmy will actually try to get what you want, and the more expensive it is, the more positive reaction he expects from you. He saved up throughout the year, denied himself pleasures and worked his ass off — if you don't shower him with appreciation and gratitude, he will make a scene about how selfish you are. On your own birthday.

— Jimmy keeps your gifts and trinkets in his drawer (if they small enough). He has some photos of you together, small souvenirs from trips, cute notes you left him — you name it. This habit will get creepy: the things having a lot of sentimental value to you, your trash like discarded perfume bottle and cream tubs, even your underwear. He wouldn't care if you made fun of him, but god forbid you misplace or throw away anything from that drawer.

— Jimmy loves when you rely on him. However, to a degree because this man quickly gets tired of running errands. If he offers to do something it's safe to agree, asking too much will get him worked up so don't overdo. With that said, Jimmy always does small things, like making your preferred beverage during the day, calling to remind you something, doing small chores unprompted, basically covering your bases. It's hard to feel unloved when you are remembered and cared for in that way. Also gives him an ammo for fights in case you forget how much Jimmy does for you.

— Jimmy insists on driving you everywhere (so people would know that you belong to him). Also it means Jim has lots of good punishments at his disposal when you two fight: lock the car from the inside? Leave you somewhere you don't know? Or just not pick you up altogether? Better leave all the arguments for later or don't bring them up at all...

— you are one of few people to see Jimmy's playful side: he just loves to joke around you. He wouldn't like it, but your sense of humour would rub off him greatly. If that wasn't enough this man loves to prank you in small ways: it's childish stuff most of times, like hiding or misplacing an item in your house and playing innocent. Other than that, Jimmy will whistle and catcall you when he sees you and will slap your ass in public when you leave. You are encouraged to prank him in return too, but you will be pranked harder next time. Grins, snickers and snorts a lot but laughs very, very rarely. However, it's one of the most healing things you could experience. Literally restores years to your lifespan.

— Jimmy doesn't like seeing you upset actually. He's not super soft or doting, he will pry the reason for your distress out of you whether you like it or not. If he deems it's unimportant, will tell you to suck it up, maybe even make a sarcastic remark. If it's serious business, he involves himself. Of course half the time it makes your situation worse and him angrier at himself which translates to Jim being angry at you.

— when Jimmy is upset, it's best to wait it out. I headcannon Jimmy used to have terrible anger issues but with years managed to control them to a degree. It doesn't mean he wouldn't lash out on you, his partner, it does get ugly. Him hugging you for comfort is actually more frequent than you would expect. As long as you don't address his tears or say much, Jimmy would calm down with little to no issue. Don't bring it up later too, he won't respond and will pretend it never happened.

— finishing with the reminder that you will be carrying Jimmy's emotional baggage as well as your own if you have any. I hope you have strong and healthy arms and back for that. If you're not careful enough or *cough cough* stay ignorant of Jim's bad influence on you, he will bring you to his level and mold you into who he wants you to be. But it doesn't work one way: in theory, you could "fix" some of his unsavoury outlooks but don't expect too much. After years of blood, sweat and tears it's possible to finally convince him to go to therapist. Praying he would continue on his own wouldn't be enough and you would need to actively encourage Jim to not give up on his mental health treatment. Way to go!

[paratielisdum]

Lmao just now realising i completely missed the part where you just said "ideas" and i HAD to draw the spino guy myself so here he is

Sort of a do it in your own style/headcanons thing

Should i still tag? I probably should. I will anyway.

Of course, credits to @verrixstudios for coming up with this great idea/design

I might make him into a character, who knows (the name spinosaurus aegyptiacus is gonna go SO hard)

[ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous]

Thankful for these bitches in particular:

👑👑Twin Bitches who have their feet on my NECK (if yall would’ve not listened to fucking Macrinus & just been like damn maybe we should let Lucilla & Acasius restore Rome maybe YOU TWO WOULD STILL BE ALIVE. I love you stupid lambs forever)

💰The rich bitch who fucks up his own life (Arthur ya could’ve had it all you dumb shit did it hurt when you finally figured it out & Amelia told you to get fucked so you {speculatively} jumped off the damn roof?)

🥺 The saddest bitch who needs to get on some meds (and finally does at the end of his season, he’s seen some shit I’m not gonna be mean to Billy he’s been through enough in his life. Poor fucking kid.)

🦇🎸 The head bitch in charge Eddie is the OG (Steve told you not be the fuckin hero YOU EVEN SAID IT & yet ya went & had to try to be a goddamn hero now look at you, DEAD in the upside down. Good going.)

🍝The bro-est bitch (Tom is just such an idiot bro don’t come at me I love him ya deserved better than Ruth & I hope you got it)

🇷🇺The judgiest bitch (the sassiest judgiest bitch this side of Saint Petersburg insane mommy issues but you know she was a dick to him anyway… also an idiot)

🇫🇷The frenchest bitch (will forever be affectionately referred to as “this bitch” when tagged I also can NEVER spell his dumb fucking name.

🤫The saddest, scaredest, wettest bitch (Eric is baby boy & I refuse to be mean about him)

🐀The grossest bitch (LISTEN he ate cremated remains, spit candy & licked a burn wound y’all amongst other things, he’s gross)

🔥The hottest bitch (pun intendedoh Johnny Johnny Johnny, can’t wait to see what you’re going to be like you better flame on you dumb flammable bitch

I don’t know why I needed to add commentary to this but it’s just what I do 😵‍💫😂🫠🥴

[mzannthropy]

Long post or whatever, OP seems to be an inactive account so they won't mind.

Thanks 💌

If I say I'm afraid to post what I feel like and you ask me why, I wouldn't be actually able to answer (but it's like that with fear--what are you afraid of?) Like, nobody will die bc of what I posted. I can't keep it inside either so I put like million caveats so that no one gets offended... lol. (I have a bit of a baggage wrt to things I like, from my teenage years.)

When I became an active Sam Claflin fan, during the pandemic, I looked up his name on social media, and on here too, and saw how everyone only cared about Me Before You and Finnick. So I knew I would have to be on my own. Don't get me wrong, Finnick's cool, doesn't matter how I feel about Hunger Games--which I will always battle with--but surely there's more to Sam than that? For general public, okay, after all Sam keeps himself low-key, but when even his own fandom can't recognise how fantastic he is in everything else he does? Journey's End was one of the first films I watched after I started following him and was mindblown, like that's an Oscar winning performance--and yet not a peep from anyone. So I started posting about him myself, eventually @jesstasticvoyage found me, but last year, everything around DJATS made me retreat back into my shell and I even questioned whether I should continue. Heck, I questioned my own sanity, I thought I was having a psychosis or something... Soccer Aid was a life saver, then we heard about Monte Cristo and all was well again. Though the crisis comes back every now and then (and I don't mean the one I had over not being able to watch Bagman, bc I took that with humour and took a trip to Haworth to touch grass and came face to face with a road named Dimples Lane... clearly sign from the universe. And I got to see Bagman in the end anyway.)

But what I wanted to say, regarding your last tags: women definitely need to stop fucking apologising for everything AND women need to get some fucking audacity. Like you say, men always confidently proclaim what they think. It's not a skill you just wake up with one day, so it needs work. I've been thinking about how to make myself less sensitive, actually I'm contemplating posting on twitter again, but this time not about politics (that's how I used it before) but about things I like, like Sam and films and books and cats and quotes etc. I'll see.

Oh and what are the Spanish and French words used instead of "chemistry"? Both are such pretty languages! One user here suggested "alchemy" which sounds good. I know "chemistry" is a real term in acting (also in music, apparently) but it's not used the way shippers think it is. Actors need to have chemistry with everyone, not just the ones that play romantic interests. It's a disservice to both of them to reduce their performance to just "chemistry". Sam learned to play a whole fucking instrument, lost a lot of weight, learned a new accent... and yet all these clowns have to say is kemmystreeee. And that's if they're not ageist about him. Someone reblogged one of my Sam Monte Cristo posts with "thank god he is looking hot again" in the tags... just. Headdesk.

Sam Claflin and Holliday Grainger in ‘Any Human Heart’ (2010)  

[fruvittea]

between the lines

💌﹒→﹒ joshua x reader (college au) ﹒ ﹒ ♪

— genre: romance, slice of life, friends to lovers

— word count: 1.2k

— warnings? none

Joshua Hong had always been the epitome of calm. Even amid the chaos of college, he carried himself like a walking sonnet, effortlessly poetic and endlessly kind. He was the kind of guy professors remembered by name and group project partners fought over because they knew he would carry the team without complaint.

And for some inexplicable reason, he had chosen you as his best friend.

“Let me guess,” he said, sliding into the library seat across from you. His voice was soft and teasing, the kind of tone that made people lean in just to hear him better. “You haven’t started the paper yet.”

You shot him a mock glare, spinning your pen between your fingers. “I don’t need your judgment right now, Hong. I need inspiration.”

His smile grew, dimple flashing as he opened his laptop. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today.”

This was how most of your study sessions went—Joshua helping you focus while you tried (and usually failed) to ignore the way his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms or how his glasses made him look even more unfairly attractive. He had been your friend since freshman year, when a misplaced coffee cup and a chance meeting in a lecture hall had spiraled into late-night conversations, shared playlists, and countless study sessions.

“You’re staring.”

You blinked, cheeks heating. “What? No, I wasn’t.”

Joshua smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You scoffed and flipped a page in your notebook to look busy. It wasn’t your fault that he had that annoying habit of running a hand through his hair every time he thought too hard about something. Or that he smiled like he was sharing some secret joke with you, even when he wasn’t saying a word.

“Anyway,” you said, desperate to change the subject. “What’s this ‘generous’ inspiration you’re offering?”

“Depends,” he said, propping his chin on his hand and tilting his head, eyes sparkling in that maddening way of his. “What’s it worth to you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not much, considering you’re supposed to be my friend. Generosity isn’t supposed to come with a price tag.”

Joshua laughed, a quiet, warm sound that you felt somewhere in your chest. “Fine, fine. How about this? If I help you finish your outline, you buy me coffee after. Deal?”

It was a simple enough offer, but the way his gaze lingered on you, half-hopeful, half-playful, made your stomach flip. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing like usual or if there was something more in the way his smile softened when you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you said, shaking off the strange warmth spreading through you. He was just Joshua. Your best friend. That was all.

The outline took another two hours, mostly because Joshua kept finding ways to distract you.

“You know, you really should stop biting your pen like that,” he said at one point, his tone oddly low.

You looked up, startled. “Why?”

“Just… you’ll ruin your teeth,” he said after a pause, glancing back at his screen. But his ears had turned pink, and you didn’t miss the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his notebook.

Later, when you grumbled about a particularly annoying paragraph, he leaned over, closer than necessary, his shoulder brushing yours as he pointed at your laptop.

“Try rephrasing it like this,” he murmured, his voice soft in your ear.

You froze, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. His cologne—subtle and warm—was suddenly all you could focus on, and you had to force yourself to nod like a normal person.

“Right. Yeah. Good idea,” you mumbled, hastily typing.

By the time you finished, your brain felt like it had run a marathon. But Joshua seemed completely unfazed, closing his laptop with a satisfied smile.

“Coffee time,” he said, standing and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.

You looked away so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The coffee shop was crowded, a low hum of conversation filling the air as you and Joshua slid into a booth. You sipped your latte, trying not to think too hard about the fact that this felt suspiciously like a date.

“You’ve been quiet,” Joshua said, watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Just tired,” you lied, avoiding his gaze.

“Hm.” He didn’t look convinced.

The silence stretched, not uncomfortable but charged in a way you couldn’t quite place. You fiddled with your sleeve, trying to push down the fluttering in your chest.

“You’re terrible at hiding things,” he said suddenly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Joshua leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It means I can tell when something’s on your mind. And lately, you’ve been acting… different.”

Your heart skipped. “Different how?”

“Like…” He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. “Like you’re trying to keep your distance from me.”

The words hit harder than they should have. “I’m not,” you said quickly, too quickly.

“Really?” His voice softened, and for a moment, his usual teasing tone was gone. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the way he was looking at you—gentle, patient, like he was waiting for something—made the words catch in your throat.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you said finally, your voice quieter. “I just… I don’t know. You’ve been acting weird, too.”

“Weird how?”

“Like…” You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “Like you’re flirting with me or something.”

Joshua blinked, then laughed, a soft, breathless sound that made your stomach flip. “Maybe I am.”

Your head shot up, eyes wide. “What?”

“Maybe I’ve been flirting with you,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze steady. “And maybe I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”

The air between you felt electric, every sound in the coffee shop fading into the background. You searched his face for any sign that he was joking, but there was nothing but quiet sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re kidding,” you said weakly, though your heart was pounding.

“I’m not,” he said, leaning back with a soft smile. “But I get it if you don’t feel the same way.”

Your mind raced, torn between disbelief and the overwhelming urge to say something—anything—that would make him understand just how much you did feel the same way.

“Joshua, I…” You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I thought you were just being nice. I didn’t think you…”

“Liked you?” he finished, his smile growing.

You nodded, your hands gripping your cup tightly.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward again, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Now you know.”

And as his smile turned just a little shy, just a little hopeful, you felt something inside you shift, the weight of your doubt lifting like a curtain. Maybe he really had been flirting all along.

And maybe—just maybe—you’d been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

[erathene]

There is something I would like to share with my friends, followers and the general population of Tumblr.

This is a very personal post coming up. I've been trying to phrase it in the right way for a long time, writing it and re-writing it, starting over again, leaving it saved in my drafts and then coming back to it. But now it's time to share it.

This post contains the following trigger warnings: conceiving, pregnancy, loss, pain, medical treatment, mental health.

If this is triggering for you, please block the tags used below, or pm me and I will add a tag to this post that you already block.

Over the summer I had a miscarriage.

I had what I thought was a very normal pregnancy; in May I had a very clear 2-line pregnancy test, throughout most of June I was struck down with morning sickness, I had food cravings and I was bloated/gained a dress size etc. Everything seemed normal.

In July, at 3 months pregnant, I went for my first scan, only to find there was no baby there whatsoever. It turned out that I'd had something called an anembryonic pregnancy, which is where a placenta and gestational sac develop normally but a baby does not.

In the 2-3 days following the scan, my body proceeded to - quite literally - evacuate the system. I ended up bleeding a lot, having to call 999 myself due to dizziness & hyperventilation & tingling at my extremities, ending up in A&E in so much pain, and topped it all off by passing out in the waiting room from blood loss. Not my finest moment.

Despite all that, my uterus was like Hold My Beer because she wasn't done yet.

At a follow-up scan it was identified that I had managed to hold on to the gestational sac. I opted for a minor surgery to remove it, which - thanks to the Tory government running the NHS into the ground for 14 years - was scheduled for August, and I had to Make Do with feeling like a walking talking zombie and days of high temperatures as my body fought off the early signs of infection. The surgery ended up being fine, and I was sent off on my merry way with a 7 day course of antibiotics.

Anyway. Why am I telling you, a stranger on the internet, all of this?

Doing any form of writing whilst all of this was happening was pretty much impossible. However, now that I am back to full health and starting to put pen to paper on a few projects, it's made me realise how valuable my silly little hobby has become. I was feeling a bit worried last month because after everything that happened over the summer, some of my WIPs have really taken a face-first deep dive into the Hurt/Comfort space, with some scenes that I've written becoming way more hurt than comfort.

It's been so hard to try and figure out whether I'm "over" losing my baby or not. Sometimes I think to myself, it's fine - I didn't lose anything because there was nothing there in the first place. But then something else inside me thinks, fuck - there should have been something there. It's such a weird space to be in. I guess overall, I still feel trolled - I went through so much and had so many 'normal' pregnancy symptoms only to not then have anything to show for it.

But I'm still here, and still alive, and I've slowly managed to pick myself up and start over again. Work has been the hardest, and only in the past week or so have I felt that I'm finally back to my old self.

Has writing helped me cope with everything that happened? Absolutely. Should I be embarrassed by that? Absolutely not. Has it helped me pick myself back up again after a pretty traumatic experience? Fuck yeah.

Cringe is dead. Long live fanfiction ✌️

[lord-of-tomatoes]

She doesn't like talking about her downfall she only tells him stories of her glory days

Prev | Next

[wasyago]

the brainrot won

[knockknockitsnickels]

I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[winkleclit]

a visionary, vision is scary

[nebuladreamz]

[kindahoping4forever]

Luke for British GQ