#besides the trigger tags obviously
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(Warning: long ask ahead, but I just have so many thoughts on something you mentioned).
I saw your reply from earlier where you gave your opinions on The Book of Bill. Just wanted to let you know you're 100% not alone on the Bill and Ford thoughts. It honestly kinda bothers me too that the fandom is latching onto the "lol uwu toxic old man yaoi" thing. Like there's so much more to the book and Bill and Ford as characters but it feels like a lot of folks read it and mentally threw out everything but shipping bait to obsess over.
It especially feels ick to me because Bill and Ford's relationship - whether people read it as platonic or not - is legit 100% abusive, and it tramples all over the growth Ford's had healing from that. I almost kind of wish the book hadn't made those jokes at all, because when a creator gives a fandom a shipping inch, fandoms take a whole mile with it. No hate to Hirsch for what the fandom is doing; it's not his fault. But it's honestly annoying, just like you said.
on the spectrum of long and short asks, this one barely reaches medium, anon (lighthearted)
but yeah. I really think the parts relating to their abusive dynamic were some of the most realistic portrayals of an abusive relationship we've seen, platonic or otherwise. and that is really special for something I wasn't expecting to go into this much depth with the cruelty and abusiveness of their relationship for. literally a lot of heart dropping moments with bill showing off just how sadistic and cruel he was to ford. emotionally, mentally, and physically.
the ex jokes dropped on bill were laughable and not something to be taken as hard canon proof that they were in a romantic relationship like the fandom is seriously rolling with. like, come on, this is bill's book we're talking about, he's trying to look good for the reader. and making himself seem sympathetic by using that moment in the bar is the way he decided to do that. maybe it really happened like that, and bill was sad about losing ford, but... they're kinda trusting bill's word over ford's here, aren't they?
It's really something that the fandom decided to play up the sad ex narrative to the umpteenth degree and i shouldn't be this surprised that my filters are working overtime right now, but man. I wish the abusive nature of bill wasn't just thrown under the rug in favor of stupid toxic yaoi jokes like you said. I wish ford's status as bill's victim wasn't downplayed over 'oh, he just wanted to fuck the triangle' jokes like no. just... no.
a microcosm of this is that drunk ford moment. a lot of the fandom is seeing it as this cute gay moment or what have you, when it's implied quite heavily that bill coerced/forced ford into getting intoxicated with the very phrase 'i am not much of a drinker' on the page before. and if you're taking that 'one thing led to another' phrase as something a bit more... risque... then, you're potentially looking at sexual assault. that is fucked up to hell and back and i only see a few people talk about it like that. (of course people are free to see this moment however the hell they like, i just... man. I don't know. I really don't know.)
anyway, fandom's gonna fandom. i just really wish it wasn't in my face all the time despite my best efforts to avoid that sort of thing with my filters.
#sa mention#tw abuse#not tagging this#besides the trigger tags obviously#tbob spoilers#askjacky#eyetrees don't look
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it's been long enough that i can say this again, i firmly believe there was NOTHING holding michael there when he got scooped
#discussion of suicide in tags //#no restraints. no force. nothing.#besides ennard outside who.. obviously wouldn't have let him escape had he TRIED to run#doesn't matter though bc he Did Not Move At All#i bring this up mostly bc the version in ruin DOES have that restraint but... no!#the end of sl was fully a suicide attempt on michael's part and it makes me so UPSET#first of all i think going back to his hometown and old place and the warehouse REALLY fucks with him .. it just unearths so much trauma#that he's been trying to shove away and triggers him into an even worse mindset than usual#that message from william .. hoooo boy it fucks with his head (and the fact that he FOLLOWS it is a whole other thing that makes me gnaw on#concrete but i digress)#yes he tried to get out yes he told himself he wanted to be done with all of it but he never TRULY unpacked anything#he's just been living with this huge weight that he never tries to heal from or shoulder with someone else bc he either never lets himself#try for the chance or sabotages everything before he can#an again it comes back to the sheer amount of GUILT he carries with him..#he knows what his father has done he knows liz or whatever is left of her is DOWN THERE he knows she wants to escape#and he thinks she truly deserves so much more of a chance at the life she was robbed of than he ever did...#he is just so exhausted and has struggled with suicidal ideation for A Long Time that he realizes what they are doing and just... resigns#himself to it... there is still that innate fear as it happens but he was Ready to die#aaand then he gets to live way longer with nothing left besides one goal that just will not rest... excruciating!#it's one thing to discuss his exhaustion with Living when he's. a literal corpse. but the fact that This is a thing makes it even more :((#suicide tw#suicidal ideation tw#suicide attempt tw
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Just one night of freedom: that's what compelled you to sneak out of your home, a night prior to your wedding. Obviously, being kidnapped on the highway wasn't on your list of liberation yet here you are now; bruised and chained in an abandoned warehouse of your captors with a gun pressed to your forehead.
And... why does it seem like he won't hesitate to pull the trigger if you dare to breath too loudly?
Genre: Dark Romance, Slow burn, Angst
Warnings: minor character death, profanity, violence, misogny, noncon drugging, modern AU, no mentions of y/n. (Y'all will hate reader in this)
A/N: Hello, thanks for bearing with me!! I am posting after like 2 months or so and this is just gonna be a short series to get me back to writing. Please mind, it will contain dark content, eventual smut, violence, major as well as minor character death(s) and angs, so heed the tags before proceeding. Hope you enjoy <3
Divider credits to @cafekitsune
0.0 - BLACK ROSES
23/03
Dear diary,
The last thing my fiancé told me before dying was to stay in the car.
I didn't.
"Why don't we elope?"
"Absolutely."
"I know right?" It's impossible to not let the smile curl on your lips after your fiancé affirmation; something which allows you to press on. "Let's just run away. Somewhere far, somewhere we don't know. We can be live there alone... together but alone."
The black sedan zooms past the bustling streets in Shibuya ward, neon lights from the skyscrapers gleams amidst the dark backdrop of night. A slight breeze tickles your skin from the window kept open due to your incessant requests wish. You catch the sight of the verdant Yoyogi park, sprawled in the open urban center. The lush leaves have transcended into vibrant hues of autumn, dried and crips under the seasonal changes. The glowing streetlights reflects on the windshield—blinding you momentarily before your gaze found your betrothed. Seated beside you on the driver seat, he was focused on the road, you can tell. One hand clasped on the steering wheel as he rotates it to a certain degree and gone are the overwhelming noise piercing your eardrums; enveloped in a tranquil silence of the gloomy forest.
"I have talked to nii-san as well but he thinks it's ridiculous," a frown etches on your brows while you recall the exact words of your brother. It's no big deal though. You don't blame him, he is already burdened with his nominal duties and you didn't wish to increase it any further. "At least you understand where I am coming from."
He doesn't reply to that. The silence stretches inside the vehicle for a second too long and an antsy urge tickles the back of your throat. You push it down.
"We can have our own home anywhere we want, the countryside, the beach or better yet— the mountains." You draw in a sharp breath, adjoining your hands over your lap. Briefly do you shut your eyelids and there it is- the scenery of your acclaimed abode painting itself on the other end of the empty void. On reopening them, "You can tend to sheep or cows all day and when you return, I will have warm dinner prepared for you. It will be so much—"
"Fun?" He finally speaks after all your rambling, "Is that what you want to say?"
A pair of amber irises grace you for a moment causing you to purse your lips. The attention halted on you presses you down in a shadowy impact and you lower your gaze, answering with a nod.
"Heh—" He huffs akin to a vociferous laugh before he is looking ahead again. A sudden speedbreaker jerks the car and a worn down milestone glides past your sight. "A hut in the countryside and tend to filthy cows? What more? You want me to go hunting, next?"
"Violence wasn't my intent—"
"Quiet."
So you do. Shoulders slumping down—here it comes.
"How many times do I have to remind you to not speak unless I allow you to?"
He yanks the console center a bit too forcefully, instincts compel you to flinch. Imperiousness had always reflected upon his words and this was no different. However, you were far more used to it to let it bother you. Caressing your forearm, you shift on your seat, contorting in a better position as you tear off your gaze from him. If you'd have to go through another lecture again then you'd rather do it without getting your back strained.
1... 2... 3... 4...
When he doesn't speak after too long, you dare to take a glimpse of him. Only the streaks of blond darkened under the light angles to seem black meets your vision and your courage dissipates. Instantly, you turn away.
Assuming that you're off the hook, your muscles relaxe.
"However," or not. "The thing about waiting for me with dinner... I don't see how that's any different than what you'll do by being here." He pauses and its like all the air is sucked out of the car. The firmness in his attitude starts to surface, one you clearly do not want to see right now. "Being the wife of Zenin Naoya, I expect duties to be followed precisely. Regardless of the place. Is that understood?"
No. You are inclined to say it. It's not the same. He's got a point, you know. No matter which route you choose, you can't evade your pre-written destiny. Yet, you don't want to upset him for an absurd reason. So you hold back your tongue.
"Yes, Naoya."
"But if you happen to chase after that dream so much then you can imagine..."
It's rude but you don't wish to hear anymore. Thus, you avert all of your focus on the road outside. Better than the pondering on the intermittent suffocation plaguing the car, you'd rather watch the streetlights pass by.
"Yes Naoya." You answer after he finishes. And once again, all you are left with is the silence.
It's precisely 9:45 PM; way too past your curfew but leaving that damn manor was the best idea, you believe. Honestly, you are exhausted. Too many days gone by embellishing yourself upto the standards of an upper echelon bride. Trying on countless gowns until you found the right one and while you loved grooming yourself, all of it was just too much.
You wanted to breath in peace.
Sneaking out wasn't an option when guards were stationed around each corner of your home and driving alone late at night would never be accepted by your father. But only one way to convince him arrived in the form of your Naoya. Of course, he'd do anything to appease his soon to be son-in-law. So all you needed was a little planning. A quick call. A lot of convincing and... here you are.
A long drive around the periphery of Tokyo. You couldn't ask for anything more.
The news played on the FM radio, occasionally you'd pay heed to it. Something about a few killers breaking out of prison and being on the run. You didn't bother with the details—names, appearance etc. didn't matter when you had the night for yourself.
"We are going back."
"What?" You crane your neck back to him in such a quick that it caught a sprain. "But we just started."
"And it's ending." From his tone, his seriousness was evident and the road he tilted the car to, you knew your cage only awaited fifteen minutes away.
"No, please, " Reaching out, you held his forearm, one he replied with a negative shrug. Desperation hung in your words as all the pleadings poured out of your mouth, "Just half an hour more, please, please."
"Not happening."
"Alright, 15 minutes."
"No."
"5 minutes."
"I am turning the car."
"2 minutes, only 2 minutes... ple— ahh!"
The sudden halting of the car pushes you forward, garnering a choked yelp from you. About to complain, you open your mouth only to stop when you see the scene beyond the windshield.
A fleet of police cars are lined way ahead the road, the lightbar flickers carmine and indigo hues all across. Muted noises reach your ears from the distance and as anyone might assume, all of its a case of road rage. From your peripheral you can see Naoya scowling for the path being blocked. As of now, he only had two options either make a U-turn or wait till the blockage gets removed. And as far as your know your fiancé, the first option is a direct no and the second is synonymous to tardiness; a factor he despises.
"For fuck's sake," He mutters the curse before loosening his seat belt and stepping out.
"Stay in the car."
He says that at least ten steps away from the car. For reasons unknown, something churns in your gut—inciting you to call out, to stop him, to ask him to stay.
You don't.
Flicking your eyes down to your lap, you straighten the fabric of your pants. Joining your palms, you've started to contemplate if— what was that?!
Glancing back at the scene in front, nothing has changed except, "Naoya?"
Your breath hitches and your body is set on auto-pilot, "Naoya?"
Calling again, the seat belt loosens and the door opens up all too easily. Why? Why does it? It- it didn't open few seconds ago, Why does it open now?
Click. Click. Click. Something clicks as you keep on walking– running, maybe or not. Who knows? Your gaze is stilled on only one particular body right ahead. There's someone lying down on the road. Are they an idiot? But why does that body seem so familiar? You crouch down and your fingers tremble- no they are shaking. You are shaking. What's happening? With all your strength you can muster at the moment, you turn the body around.
Naoya?
What is it? You can't speak however, how much you try. Your lips have locked shut. Your eyes are wide open and there's something running between your fingers. You blink. It's warm, its red, its blood. There's blood on your hands—your vision starts to blur, each and every crevice transcending into vines of black as they tangle and coil; obstructing the periphery of your vision when it falls on the body.
The face is unclear, only the chest you see where blood has accumulated and you are sitting amidst a pool of it.
It can't be.
No. It cannot be.
Naoya... he was just driving the car. Speaking with you. Said you to stay inside while he handles it then... what's happening? The body before you dons the very outfit, he had on. Wisps of his hair from the darker to lighter tone—it is the face. The face is the same. The eyes, they are the same but... why?
You believe you hear something else as well. Voices. Too many voices. Incoming, your way. You should stand, move, walk, run. You don't.
Too consumed by the equivalent visage of your fiancé and the corpse before you, the cogs don't run in your head. However, there's a deeper part of your mind which screams the inevitable to you—the inevitable you don't want to realize.
Coward.
You are such a fucking coward.
Bound under the spell of grief as moisture laden irises refuse to let go off the sight of your fiancé; the timer of your escape starts to diminish by each passing second. And there you are. You don't even care.
A coward.
By the time you do—it's too late.
Screams. All you here are screams and it splits your fucking head. Why does that bitch get to scream so loudly when it's your fiancé that lies lifeless before you? She must be having a good laugh cause you are miserable now. Back to square one. However as your throat begins itching, the agonizing twist of your arms behind your back and the press of cold metal on your head—the realization saunters in.
The screams are yours.
Hoards of officers have their guns pointed at you... or more precisely, the one holding you. The scenery before your gaze shifts from Naoya to the police shouting commands (which fall on deaf ears) and finally to a rusty pair of brown eyes flunk in paint to appear the perilous shade of carmine; what've you done?
He is barking orders of his own, that much is clear but on top of your own pathetic screams, you have no inclination to hear what he wants to say. Kicking your feet, hands or anything, leave me. Throwing your head back, it might have connect with something because the metal close to your ear is removed. Victory proven to be short-lived when something harder hits your head. More foreceful. More sharp. Yet, what seems to have set the fire alarm in your system is the same sound that you heard sitting in the car.
No. No. No. Please. Not again.
Ceaseless commands of keep the girl down and surrender yourself arrives from the peace protectors; none of them reaches your captor. Pulled and pushed back, the voices near yourself are unclear but before you know it, you are back in the same sedan you were in moments ago. The engine springs to life and discarded in the backseat like a broken toy, your captor is joined in by more people. Your fighting instincts are sky high when the car starts moving, screams are your entire language at this point and— and you may win. You just have to get yourself out of his grasp. Now just, if you—
"Here, just give the bitch a shot and she's done."
No. You don't have the time to question neither do you want to but your body is twisted around in such a way, that it might be humanely impossible. Cheek pressed on the cold glass, you are about to turn back but— a needle pierces your neck. The under preparation might've leaked blood from the puncture and this time when you scream it's not from protest, not defense, nor grief... it's pain.
Sheer agonizing pain that you don't welcome at all. The adrenaline still works and it will. Believe it. Don't fall asleep. Stay awake. Just pass the time doing anything but falling asleep. Please.
It won't work.
Obviously, it won't.
Yanked back by the man, your hair cards to the side of your face. A splitting headache pierces through the frontal lobes of your brain and for some unknown reason, your eyelids feel heavy.
Damn it, stay awake.
How does it happen that might remain a mystery for the next three months. All you receive in the last few seconds as your head tips under the effect of the sedative are the gentlest of hands pushing soothing the ache on your skin before they trail up to stroke circles on your cheek.
Then, everything fades into black.
Will be continued...
#magic!writes#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna angst#sukuna angst#sukuns ryomen angst#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#ryomen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x you#ryomen x you
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zutto — chapter six | wc: 2.7k | series masterpost | prev. chapter
Chapter summary: Lia and Noah go out for brunch and Noah tries to convince her to cancel the tour in Japan.
Tags and trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, noah and lia go shopping, noah and lia visit a sex shop, implied interest in bondage, mentions of previous sexual activity, mentions of lia being tied up, brief mention of parents' neglect and japanese folklore (noah being ill with a flower-coughing disease).
General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18
Author's note: This chapter was supposed to be around 10k words, but it felt too long so I split it. Chapter 7 will be up this weekend with the remaining 7k words 🤭
There is a quote in this chapter that belongs to the poetry book Questions for Ada written by Ijeoma Umebinyuo. It's marked with an *
Sunlight was streaming brightly through the curtains by the time Lia awoke, indicating that it must be late.
Getting used to the golden light that flooded the room, she brushed aside the long strands of hair that had fallen across her face. Noah’s shoulder and bicep were almost pressed against her, his head resting higher on the pillow and tilted toward her, as though he didn’t want to stop breathing on her. She couldn’t remember when she had fallen asleep—whether it had been on Noah’s chest or just clutching the pillow under her head after he’d given her another orgasm positioned behind her. She did remember him cleaning her up and her mind feeling all fuzzy and cotton-like.
She hadn’t slept this well in a long time.
Smiling at the sight of him, she decided to spend the rest of the time while Noah was still asleep just watching him. At least, that’s what she intended—until her fingers couldn’t resist wandering over to him.
Noah lips were half-open, revealing a tiny bit of those bunny teeth she adored so much. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was disheveled. Beneath the sheets, both of them were naked, their scents lingering in the fabric, though the heavy scent of sex was more prominent.
Lia brushed aside a lock of Noah’s hair that threatened to fall over his eyes, and a memory from her teenage years suddenly flooded back. It was one of those weekends when Cristina had abandoned her, leaving her alone. Hana had obviously let Lia stay over, but against her orders, Lia had sneaked into Noah’s room after midnight instead of sleeping in the guest room. Back then, Noah slept like a log. At seventeen, his passion for music already coursed through his veins relentlessly, and many nights were spent working, only remembering to sleep when he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. The nights he spent with Lia were no different—they would stay up watching movies or talking. That particular night, she had fallen asleep first, but woke up earlier, and took a quiet moment to brush his hair while he slept, softly snoring.
Now, eleven years later, the scene felt almost surreal, like a replay of the past. Lia was sure he had the same peaceful expression, the same boyish features. Even in sleep, he looked like a child, lost in his dreams. The urge to protect him was as strong as ever, just as he had done for her all these years. It felt like the least she could do—besides loving him.
Noah’s chest rose as Lia made a futile attempt to tuck the lock of hair behind his ear. He stirred, and two more strands slipped down to join the first, falling across his eyes and making him blink awake.
The moment he saw her wide eyes looking up at him, paired with that smile that always seemed to cure his every ill, he couldn’t help but smile back. He felt fucking happy to wake up next to the girl he loved—especially with her naked under the sheets.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
“Morning,” she replied, trying to ignore the tingling in her toes and the warmth spreading through her body at the sound of Noah’s deep, sleepy voice. His eyes, with their distinct Asian shape, looked even more beautiful in the morning—smaller, almost like thin slits.
“You look wide awake. How long have you been staring at me?” he asked, his playful arrogance showing the familiar self-assuredness that Lia was all too familiar with.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve got some nerve,” she shot back, equally accustomed to his confident, slightly egotistical humor.
With a burst of energy, he grabbed Lia by the waist and tried to tickle her. She squealed, rolling onto her side, giggling, until they lay chest to chest, both facing each other on the bed.
“No more than ten minutes,” Lia said, catching her breath as his warm brown eyes twinkled. “How did you sleep?”
“I had this dream...,” he started, “where I had sex with my favorite girl on the couch, and then in this very bed...”
Oh, he loved seeing her blush and smile like that at his words. He pulled her tighter against him, brushing the hollow between her neck and shoulder with his lips.
“I haven’t slept this well in a long time,” Noah added, “even though I was awake around seven.”
“Seven o’clock?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s routine. I went to the bathroom, grabbed some water, and then… well, I spent some time looking at you until I fell asleep again.”
“How long were you watching me?”
“Oh, you’ve got some nerve,” he echoed her earlier words with a grin, dropping onto his back and pulling Lia with him. She landed on top of him as he continued, his tone calm and tender. “I didn’t plan on going back to sleep, but you looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to leave or wake you, so I just watched for a while. Are you okay?”
Lia, now resting her chin in her hands on his chest, nodded.
“I’m a little sore, but it’ll pass.”
Noah sighed, content, engrossed in holding Lia like this, in his arms.
Lia reached up to his chin and gave him a ghost kiss where his stubble was starting to grow.
“I’m sorry I was in the way of us,” she whispered.
“You were scared, and you had every reason to be. But that’s all behind us now. We have our whole lives ahead of us, Lia. And believe me, I don’t plan on wasting a single second of it. I just need you to be honest with me. You know I’ll never hurt you. But if I have to get angry, I will. I’m not letting you walk away from me again.”
She climbed on top of him, pressing her chest and stomach to his, and touched his cheeks.
“I love you.”
“That sounds wonderful. Say it again.”
“I love you.”
Noah kissed her, long and hard.
After a while, when they bothered to look at their phones to check the time, they realized it was already past eleven.
“I guess we missed breakfast. How about I take you out for brunch?” Noah suggested, his hands resting on her hips, savoring the weight of her body against his.
“Sounds great.”
“And we can talk about Japan.”
Lia’s eyes widened instantly.
“Yes, please.”
“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay here, am I?”
“Nope. There’s nothing you can do,” she concluded.
“Nothing?” he insisted.
“Nothing. Don’t even try using sex as leverage. I want to go to Japan. I want to go back to work. I’m feeling fine. I’ll be with you and with the crew.”
“Stubborn since you were six...” he sighed. “All right. Let’s go take a shower and get some air. Looks like the storm has passed.”
After showering and getting dressed, Noah and Lia headed out to Santa Monica Place, looking for a restaurant that served a healthy and affordable brunch.
Once seated, they browsed the menu, deciding on an avocado bagel with poached eggs for Lia and a bacon-loaded toast with eggs for Noah. As they waited for their food, Noah’s phone buzzed with a call from Matt. It was well-timed, since if they decided the Japan tour was still on, Matt would need to come by that afternoon to catch Noah and Lia up on the logistics.
Ten minutes later, their food arrived, along with a strawberry smoothie for Lia and a green one for Noah.
“I know I just told Matt to meet us this afternoon to talk about the tour,” Noah began, cutting into his toast. “And I know you said there’s no convincing you, but I’m going to try anyway. I’d rather postpone it, stay home a little longer, and give you more time to recover. It feels rushed to put you on a plane and keep you away from home for a month and a half right now.”
“You’re being overprotective,” Lia replied with a smile, “and I love that, but I need to work. Staying home won’t help me. As lovely as the last few days have been, I’m sure you’re starting to get tired of being cooped up at home with me, too. We haven’t gone out except for groceries and therapy appointments. You haven’t been to the gym, or out for a run, and you’ve ignored most of your work calls.”
“I was focused on what matters to me,” Noah replied, his voice quiet but firm.
Lia reached out, taking his hand. “You’ve always been good at looking out for me while managing everything else.”
“That’s not true,” Noah said, his tone darkening. “If that were the case, Mitch wouldn’t have touched you.”
A heavy silence fell between them.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly added, regret filling his eyes. “You’re still not comfortable talking about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Maybe I never will be,” Lia said, her voice steady but raw. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him control my life. I’d rather not hear his name now, but one day, I won’t care.”
“I’m proud of you, Lia. For everything you’ve accomplished on your own. You built a life for yourself from nothing.”
“It wouldn’t have been so easy without a best friend who picked me up every time I fell.”
“I just offered my hand. It was always you who chose to take it.”
The weight of Noah’s words lingered in the air. Lia felt the echoes of her past ripple through her—the weight she had carried for so long, the trauma she had inherited from her mother, the silent strength she’d summoned to survive. She thought of all the daughters like her—those who had to raise themselves, who had learned to build their own light in the darkness.
Bless them; those girls who, despite the odds, managed to build themselves a future from the fragments of their past. Bless those daughters who sat carrying the trauma of mothers. Who sat asking for more love and not getting any, who carried themselves to light. Bless the daughters who raised themselves. *
Lia stroked the back of Noah’s hand with her thumb. With a sigh, she returned to her plate, taking a bite as they both sat in a shared, contemplative silence.
“As I was saying, we can’t keep this routine up much longer,” she said. “You’re going to start climbing the walls and...”
“No. I can go back to work but without having to travel. We cancel the tour and focus on the new album,” Noah countered.
Lia shot him a tired look.
“The only thing you’ll do if you cancel the tour is keep getting distracted—because of me.”
“What about your plants?” Noah shot back. “What if they don’t survive while we’re in Japan?”
“I’ll ask Emery to come water them every now and then,” Lia replied, unfazed.
“And what if you get overwhelmed with work?”
“Work has never overwhelmed me. In fact, if I don’t start sketching something soon, I’m going to go mad. Stop finding excuses, Noah. Canceling an entire overseas tour because of me would be worse. Imagine the guilt I’d be carrying around.”
Noah hesitated. She was right.
“Besides,” Lia added, “we haven’t seen Grandma in over a year.”
“Grandma said the other day that your health was more important. The trip could wait.”
“I’m well enough to travel, Noah. Or didn’t you notice that last night?”
Noah blinked. “Are you comparing sex to a trip to Japan?”
She shrugged casually. “You compared it to your performance on stage.”
For a second, Noah didn’t know whether to raise his eyebrows or burst out laughing. The girl was impossible.
“Is this how it’s going to be?” he asked, half amused. “You getting me to do whatever you want because you know I can’t say no to you?”
Lia smiled and gave a playful shrug. “Maybe you need to set some boundaries, then.”
Noah shook his head, defeated but grinning.
“Well, at least the trip will help Grandma clear up all those mysteries she’s been holding onto for months.”
“What mysteries? About your flower-coughing fits?” Lia asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly. Didn’t she talk cryptically the last few times you spoke to her? She had me in stitches.”
“About her theory that it had something to do with me?” Lia sighed. “No. I changed the subject every time she brought it up. I think she got the hint that I didn’t want to discuss it—and definitely didn’t like her linking me to you in that way.”
“That’s strange.”
“What is, exactly?”
“That out of everyone around us, Grandma was the only one who didn’t hammer us with comments about getting together. Together this way, I mean.”
“Whatever’s been going through her head all these years,” Lia said thoughtfully, “I plan to get it out of her the minute we step into her house at the end of the tour.”
The outing was intended as a distraction and a small boost for Lia’s mental health, with plans to do some light shopping after filling their stomachs.
They wandered through a few stores, starting with one that offered items they might need for their upcoming trip. Next, they visited a flower shop where Lia carefully selected seeds to plant at home, hoping they would blossom in her absence and greet her with vibrant blooms upon her return, and a special set of seeds to spill in Grandma’s little garden in her house in Japan. Their final stop was a stationery store, where Lia restocked her supplies. She grabbed some high-quality paper and a couple of her favorite mechanical pencils, a couple of sketchbooks of different size, a set of fine-tipped markers, and a travel-sized watercolor kit, knowing these would be perfect for capturing inspiration on the go.
As they left the stationery store, Lia glanced at their shopping bags, wondering if they had everything they needed. Her mind buzzed with ideas that she desperately needed to either voice or transfer to paper, but before she could share them with Noah, he casually mentioned, “We’re still missing condoms.”
Lia lifted her eyes to him only to find him motioning towards a sex shop located between a Zara and a Hollister Co. She followed him, feeling a strange comfort in the idea of buying condoms with him.
Inside, Noah’s initial confidence wavered as he looked around the adult store, but Lia seemed more at ease. She browsed through the various options with a calm curiosity, which made Noah’s unease more pronounced.
After a couple of minutes, he picked up a box of size L condoms to examine. With a bemused look, Lia took the box from his hand and replaced it with a medium size, her expression clearly saying, “seriously, Noah?”
Now holding two boxes of medium condoms, Noah continued to explore the options, engrossed in comparing brands and types. He studied the packaging and ingredients, curious for the first time, lost in thought, and didn’t immediately notice when Lia wandered off. When he finally did, he assumed she was simply exploring the store’s offerings. Raising his voice slightly, he called out, “Hey, I’m heading to the checkout!”
He paid for their items, swiping his card before glancing around for Lia to let her know it was time to leave. His eyes froze as he spotted her standing in front of a section dedicated to ropes, where various types hung from a bar, inviting examination. Lia’s hands delicately held a velvety red rope, her fingers gliding over its soft texture as if savoring the sensation.
Noah watched her; the way she studied the rope, her brows slightly furrowed in contemplation… The velvety material slipped smoothly through her fingers. And suddenly he was imagining her naked on his bed, wrapped in that soft rope.
Swallowing hard, he called out her name.
She turned around quickly, the rope slipping from her grasp and landing softly on the display. Noah gestured toward the exit with a slight nod. Lia, with a hint of color blooming on her cheeks, hurried after him.
As they walked out of the store and made their way back to Noah’s car, Lia glanced down at their intertwined fingers. Noah would occasionally tighten his grip around her, relishing in the sensation of how perfect her hand fit in his.
A smile tugged at Lia’s lips.
— prev. chapter | chapter seven
Taglist:
@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86
@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @xcllnt | @bluestdai | @lma1986
Let me know if you want to be tagged! 😊
#noah sebastian#lia x noah#noah x lia#the inevitability of love at second sight#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian x ofc#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian fic
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This beautiful old thing is Banana.
They arrived today after being ordered from eBay, the first three photos are the ones from the listing. Pictured next is them before and after being brushed out, meeting Neptune (and Melrose), and now comfy in bed with the pack and the Alien.
They were very obviously well loved. Owned by either an older child or an adult plush lover as besides their fur being ~crungled~ they didn't have any stains or patches of damage. They're very floppy and understuffed, have initials written on their tag, and smell like laundry. The bleeding on the tag initials and smell make me think they've had a bath before coming here.
As far as personality goes it usually takes me a few days of interaction to get a feel for it. Maybe they're just nervous about being in a new home but they seem a little skittish and low energy. I can't get a read on how old they are as of now, but they're definitely mature
I'm a big fan of how their ears turn downward instead of pull back. Their wing texture is notably rougher than Neptune's and Mel's which suggest they're an older version of the snow dragon. Their beans also feel potentially bigger, and are less tightly packed, which I'm a fan of as Neptune's tend to squeak rubbing together in the paws which triggers bad sensory for me
Overall 10/10 an absolute darling. Took a brush no issue, not fussy, very sweet
#posic#posic companion#jellycat#posic community#jellycat dragon#post#plushblr#delposic#delusion details#delusional companion syndrome#dcs#Ft Melrose#Ft Neptune#Ft Alien#Ft Banana#Ft Puppy#Ft Winrey#Ft Eli#the big wolf doesn't have a name he's just there#Background censored because I am Paranoid
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I'm down on my knees (I wanna take you there)
(steddie | explicit | 8.5k | part 2 of Emotional Motion Sickness | tags: soft dom Eddie, healing through kink, emotional hurt/comfort | AO3)
"I liked... how it felt when you held me by the throat. Just. Feeling your hands, knowing that I could let go and you'd got me. I felt, I dunno, safe? That's what I liked about it, I think."
The way Eddie beams at him makes Steve's heart beat faster and a kaleidoscope of butterflies take flight inside him. Eddie looks as if Steve has just given him the most precious gift he's ever received, and Steve thinks he'd do anything to make Eddie look at him like that. He kisses Steve like that too, gratitude and awe and something else, something that almost tastes like love in the way his tongue caresses Steve's.
"I... you're... fuck, I don't know what to say," Eddie pants against his mouth, their lips barely a breath apart.
"That's a first," Steve teases him back, giddy happiness chasing away the last vestiges of his nightly terrors. It's hard to be anything but happy in the face of a stunned Eddie looking up at him, eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.
"Brat," he answers, and it sounds like sweetheart and darling and baby to him.
Then something changes in Eddie's eyes. His hands slide from Steve's back to his shoulders and down his arms, intertwining their fingers.
"You want to try this now, Stevie?"
"Yes. Please."
"Always so polite, so sweet to me." Eddie brings first his left, then his right hand to his mouth and plants a soft kiss on the back of it. "I want you to be a good boy and relax. Let me take care of you, okay? Same rules as last time. You can tell me to slow down or stop at any time, and I will, no questions asked. I won't get mad. I want to make you feel good, so is there anything else you want besides my hands around your throat?"
Steve thinks about it, takes his time, because this is important. Eddie wants him to be good, to be honest and tell him what he wants, so Steve tries.
"Maybe you could..." he begins, slowly raising his eyes from their intertwined hands to Eddie's face. "I want you to take off your clothes, too. I want it to be just us, nothing between us. I want you to see all of me and I want to see all of you."
Almost playfully, Eddie kisses the tip of Steve's nose and grins at him. "Your wish is my command, love."
Love.
Before he can think any further about the new pet name, Eddie begins to undress, first taking off his sleep shirt before standing up and pulling down his pajama pants. Steve swallows hard as he takes him in.
He's seen Eddie naked before, explored his skin, tasted his cum. But it was all in the heat of the moment, no time to just... look. Admire the beautiful man before him, his pale skin and dark ink, the sparse chest hair, the jewelry around his neck and on his fingers glistening in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Eddie's body is slender, with long limps and a small waist. But there are muscles in his arms and the width of his shoulders. He's so undeniably masculine that it makes Steve's stomach do a little flip, and that's before he takes the time to take in Eddie's half-hard dick, nestled in a thick tuft of dark pubic hair.
"Like what you see?" the smug bastard asks, as if he couldn't tell by the way Steve hasn't even dared to take a breath since Eddie lost his pants.
"It's okay, I guess," Steve says, sounding too breathless to convince anyone.
Eddie laughs indulgently, spreads his arms wide and does a slow turn, showing Steve every glorious inch of his body. Even his flat ass does it for Steve and he wonders if Eddie has cast some kind of spell on him. Steve's heart may be trigger-happy, but the way he fell for Eddie, fast and hard, is unheard of, even for him.
"Now you," Eddie winks at him before rubbing his hands like a greedy goblin, making Steve snort an unsexy laugh. Eddie just grins back at him, obviously happy to have made Steve laugh.
Then the grin slowly fades from his face as he lets his eyes roam over Steve, and as he saunters over to him, hunger replaces the playfulness in his eyes. When he reaches Steve, Eddie doesn't hesitate before pulling him into a deep, dirty kiss. It feels like Eddie wants to crawl inside Steve through his mouth, and by God, Steve would let him.
Steve pulls away from Eddie's eager lips and places a finger over them, effectively stopping Eddie from chasing his mouth.
"Now me," Steve says, standing up from the bed, Eddie's hands not letting go of him until he is completely out of their grasp.
Read the whole story on AO3
Happy Birthday, my dear friend @firefly-party - it's late, but it comes with a lot of love💜 Thank you for always inspiring me, be it by reccing me great fic, gush about our blorbos or, like with this piece, with your talent. I love everything you draw and I'm so happy I was able to write something for it.
This is inspired by Kei's gorgeous piece of art, held.
Also a special shout out and thank you to the best beta reader there is, @acasualcrossfade. Thank you my friend 💜
#steddie#steddie fanfic#soft dom eddie munson#dom eddie munson#sub steve harrington#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#nsft#my writing
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Thoughts on whereserpentswalk? I know they're controversial on jumblr and you seem trustworthy
Tagging them as whilst I will answer, I don't like talking behind peoples backs. I also did reach out to get the okay to post as it does deal with someone's identity. @whereserpentswalk
I'm not sure 100% why they're considered controversial as I have never heard of them before. I'm like 90% sure this is in reference to them being a pagan jew aka ethnically jewish and religiously pagan.
Because Judaism is an ethnoreligion, the topic of being ethnically jewish but not practicing judaism and instead another religion is a complicated and nuanced one. Each jew has their own opinion on this, two jews 3 opinions type deal.
Obviously, if you worship or idolize any deity or similar category, besides Hashem, you are not longer practicing judaism. They do not claim to be practicing judaism, so I and hopefully everyone else should have no issue with that specific bit.
In regards to whether or not they can still call themselves jewish.
Overall, I don't really care? Like there are so many other intracommunity topics which matter more than this in my own opinion.
The only thing which doesn't fall into this are messianic jews, because whilst a lot are lead to believe they are ethnically jewish, most aren't. And the religion wasn't started by jews. Like jews didn't start believing in Jesus and that's how it came about. It was started by non ethnically jewish Christians who decided they were the real jews, which is where the misleading of messianics as a whole being ethnically comes from. I'm sure there are messianics who have jewish blood as nothing is impossible when it comes to types of people believing in a certain religion, but the majority of messiancs do not have jewish blood.
But whereserpantswalk is pagan not messianic so like again, doesn't fall into that.
I'm going to be speaking very general here and not directed at whereserpantswalk.
Like besides messianic jews being the exception, I don't super care.
I myself dabbled in paganism when I was a teen and exploring religion. I don't really talk about it much not because I dislike paganism or think it's bad or anything. I just had religious psychosis surronding it as I am a diagnosed schizo so don't really like to talk about that point of my life online mainly for my safety as some people may use it to try to trigger an episode.
Drawing from my own experiences from that time which I am willing to share, my jewish culture was still important. I grew up orthodox and that doesn't all just go away. Same thing if you grow up reform.
I still participated in secular versions of the Jewish holidays. I still held Jewish values. I still did things certain ways because I was raised jewish, and that doesn't really just go away.
To give like a definitive answer, if someone born Jewish and converts out of Judaism, gets rid of all ties to Jewish culture, including secular Jewish culture. Because Judaism is an ethno religion, I personally don't see any point in continuing to refer to yourself as Jewish. It is a tribe. If you turn your back on the tribe completely and cut all ties, then you are no longer part of the tribe. If you still keep some connection then to me personally I do see a point in calling yourself ethnically jewish as you are still connected to the tribe.
Overall, I don't really care. Like I know I've said this a bazillion times already. The majority of jews are either religious or secular. I see no point in kicking up a fuss about a tiny group of jews.
I believe in inclusive judaism, where people with varying attachment to the tribe are welcome as long as they have some or want a connection to the tribe and convert properly.
This isn't like some hard, set in stone opinion I have. There are more important topics at hand right now like genuine jew fakers than someone with jewish blood who practices paganism.
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I don't understand tiktok/youtube "censorship"
Again probably not a proship topic, but I really wanna talk about it.
⚠️By the way, this post will obviously include mentions of sensitive topics and I will be making no attempts to censor any words. Be warned!!
I genuinely don't understant. If you cannot properly type out words such as "suicide", "self harm", "pedophilia", etc, then you're just... Not mature at all. There is a big difference between having a genuine trigger word relating to trauma and a word that simply makes you uncomfortable to mention. Besides, I don't understand why everyone is so insistent on keeping things so overly sanitized. As I said, a trigger and an icky word are two different things.
It's weird looking at "s3lf-h4rm", "su1c1d3", "p3d0", "k1ll", "murd3r", etc etc. I don't understand how and why people type it out like that? It's not that hard just to write a simple word, even if it's of a heavy topic. But if you do insist on censoring it for whatever reason, just do it simply by putting either asterisks or tags. E.g "s***ide", "self-h#rm" etc. No need to make all these complicated codes.
I would talk about people being disrespectful using non-serious terms for heavy topics (e.g. "cheese pizza", "sillyside". I hate that 😭), but I don't wanna make the post too long
Slightly on topic, so many people put numbers over "proshipper" like it's a slur. I don't understand how you can be "triggered" by that so much. I mean, I tend to have a bad reaction and flinch and shudder at mentions of injections/blood tests due to past medical experiences, but at least i can still write about it nornally?
If you're so easily freaked out by mere mentions, maybe step back from social media and get some fresh air. Maybe focus on education more while you're at it /lh
Thanks for reading!!
#antis dni#proship#proshipper safe#ranting#rant post#personal rant#rant#complaining#CW#op is a proshipper#proship safe
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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 30
Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader
A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.
Potential Trigger Warnings: none (in this chapter)
A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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It’s still dark outside when my alarm starts blaring through the room causing me to wake up with a shock. I quickly reach over to shut it off and then look to my side where Jensen is laying on his stomach fully dressed. He rubs his face and blinks up at me.
“Mornin’ beautiful.”
“Mornin’ sleepyhead. You can go back to sleep if you want, I’ll just take a few to get ready.”
He sits up and stretches out. “Nah, I’ll walk you to work then head back to the hotel for a shower and change. What time do you finish? We can grab a quick lunch before your matinee, then I’ll drive you to the theatre?”
“Jens…I don’t-”
“I can be inconspicuous. I wanna talk to your boss anyway, I got a message from the director of the set you’ve been catering anyway.”
“Good I hope.”
He leans over and kisses my cheek. “Of course, they have a great manager running the program. He’s very impressed and I’m very proud.” He crawls over me, out of the bed and then slips into the bathroom.
I call out, “You’d better be quick in there, I really do need to get ready!” I get up and gather my clothes so I’m ready to go shower as soon as he’s done.
After a few minutes the door opens and he comes back out. He quickly pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. “All yours, Darlin’.” All I can think is that I could get used to starting my day like this. As he starts to pull away he says, “I’ll see what I can whip us up for breakfast.”
I look up at him. “You used my mouth wash, that was the rush?” I shake my head. “You’re adorable.”
“I’m sorry, I should have asked.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for staying.”
“Go get ready before you’re late.” He kisses my head and pulls back before spinning me to face the bathroom. I shower, brush my hair and teeth and get dressed in almost record time not wanting to make him wait or waste any of our time together.
When I come out Jensen has two coffees and two plates with buttered toast on the island bench. He’s typing something on his phone when I sit down beside him. I don’t try to pry, I just sip the coffee. He puts his phone down, takes a bite of his toast and then looks over at me and asks, “So what time am I picking you up?”
“11:30, but only if you want to. I won’t have much time between my shift and the show.”
“I’ll bring lunch then, something quick, easy and light. Then a proper dinner between shows?”
“I won’t say no to that. But don’t go overboard of anything, you’ve already done so much. And I obviously haven’t got much to offer,” I say holding up my half eaten toast.
We both finish eating and then he kisses my cheek. “It’s alright. But uh…Do you know any decent cafes around here where I can get a little extra?”
“Maybe…” I glance at his lips which are close to mine before my phone sounds, alerting me that it’s time to go to my shift. I pull away and stand up. I dump our empty dishes in the sink, grab my bag and then hold my hand out to Jensen as he stands up.
“Are you sure? Us, going out there together, especially holding hands…There’s already rumors. People from the theatre must’ve been recording on their phones.”
“I don’t have time to worry about it right now, I’m gonna be late.”
“Alright, come on.” He takes my hand and we walk down to the Mamma Jo’s together. Before going inside he lets go of my hand. I unlock the door and let us inside. As if playing a part perfectly, he says loudly, “So, is your boss here? I got a message from Bob Singer.”
I hear Stewie’s office door creak open and I quickly turn to face him and control the situation, “Hey Stewie, sorry, I know we’re not meant to-”
Stewie cuts me off, “It’s okay, Kiddo, I got it. Just open as usual.” He then turns to face Jensen and holds out his hand to greet him, “I’m the owner, Stewie, let’s go talk in my office, it’s more private. This place’ll get full of uncaffinated people the second she flips that sign.” Jensen shakes his hand and then follows him into the office.
I distract myself by arranging the till, filling the displays and prepping the coffee machines. Then I finally flip the sign. After a few minutes Stewie and Jensen come out of the office. Stewie comes over to me just before the customers start to realise we’re open and says, “Hey, Y/N, can you box up some stuff for this nice man to enjoy?” He looks over at Jensen, “Just let her know what you like, it’s on the house as a thank you for well, everything.”
“I’d be happy to pay,” Jensen says while looking at me.
Stewie looks at me and holds his hands up before quietly saying, “If you insist, but just tips for my best waitress and manager, nothing for the food.”
Jensen looks between us and smiles. “Works for me.” Stewie goes back into his office and then Jensen wanders around to the front of the counter and checks out the display. He quickly glances back over at me. “What’s good?”
I go to answer, but then my colleague shows up, so I put on my best professional acting, “How about I get you a selection? Any allergies, Sir?” He swallows heavily, bites his lip and then shakes his head.
I quickly place a few different treats into a box and hand it over to him. He slides his hand into his back pocket and I’m concerned he’s actually going to tip, but then he stops, leans in and lowly says, “Dessert tonight?”
I nod, and as he pulls away –despte knowing I’m playing with fire and that I shouldn’t– I say, “Enjoy your day, Sir,” with a bright smile. He shakes his head as he turns and walks out. Once he’s out of sight I turn my full attention to the slowly growing line and helping me colleague.
As we cross paths she says in a hushed tone, “You know who that was, right?”
I shake my head. “Just a customer. He was talking to Stewie when I came in, he just said to box him up something to go. I didn’t ask. Why? You think he might be one of the actors or producers from the show we’ve been catering?” I say attempting to play dumb.
“That was Dean Friggen’ Winchester!” She whisper-shouts.
“Oh, really?” I say as I walk back to hand a coffee to a customer with a smile while she works on making the next order. The next time we’re close enough to talk I ask, “Dean Winchester…Sounds familiar. Does he kill vampires or something?”
“Monsters! All kinds of monsters with his tall and sexy brother. Sam’s so angsty and brooding and sexy.”
I shake my head as I take the next coffee and go about my shift. She makes multiple comments throughout the shift as we pass each other. After a while I feel a bad about leading her on, but I know I can’t afford to be honest. However I do regret not just keeping my mouth shut. Once a couple more of our juniors arrive I finally do a quick briefing and then hang up my apron and clock out. The second I spot the black Range Rover on the street I smile and the exhaustion and regret slips from my mind. I get into the passenger seat and look over at him. His hair’s slightly damp and he’s changed into a black sweater and off-white Chinos.
“I checked it out, there’s a secluded park behind the theatre. I was thinking lunch there?” Jensen says as he pulls out from the curb.
“How are you real and why are you so set on me?”
He places his hand on my knee. “I’m definitely real, but I’m just treating you like any decent guy should. Your second question though is harder to answer. You’re just different, special…And I enjoy talking to you and spending time with you. You make my days better, you give me something to plan for, look forward to. But I uh…I don’t wanna overwhelm you. I know you’ve been through more than most.” He pulls a park overlooking the quiet park and then reaches over to the backseat. He pulls two sandwiches out of a bag and holds one out to me. “I wasn’t exactly sure what you like, but I hope it’s okay.”
“Thanks. I really can’t afford to be picky, so it’ll be great.” I unwrap the sandwich and take a bite, it’s nothing fancy, but it’s perfect; not too heavy before the show, but filling enough to make up for the meagre breakfast. After I swallow I look over at Jensen and say, “I enjoy spending time with you too. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to make any jumps or official statements, but I’m working on it and I like where we’re at right now and the pace we’ve been moving at.”
“There’s no rush. I’m happy too.” He takes a big bite of his sandwich and after he swallows he says, “I uh…I didn’t get tickets to today’s shows but I want you to know that you’re gonna do great and that I’ll be waiting for you between them for dinner and then again after the one tonight.”
“That’s okay. It’s one thing to do the same show every night when you’re in it, but it would get boring if you see it too many times.”
“I’d never get bored of watching you, but Grease…maybe a little. But instead, I’m gonna find us something great for dinner. How against eating out together are you? If it’s a hard no ‘cause of the paps then I’ll figure out something else.”
“Yeah, not yet…But I know a place, it’s not far. If you organise the food, I’ll give you directions.”
“Perfect.”
We both finish eating while sharing small talk. He tells me some fun stories from set and I tell him about my shift after he left.
When I come out after the matinee show, having taken my rightful and comfortable role back in the back, I find Jensen’s hire car at the back of the lot and I get in. He looks me up and down taking in my hair and makeup that’s still done to save time for the next show. “Hey there Beautiful. How was it?”
“Honestly…a little strange being back in the shadows after being the lead. But it was also less stressful. So, uh, dinner?”
“I have no doubt you’ll get the lead one day. Just enjoy soaking up all the experiences along the way. And yeah, I got it covered. Directions?”
“Yeah.” I put my seatbelt on and then navigate Jensen to one of my favorite places in New York. It’s a playground that’s full of hippopotamus statues. I know it can be busy at times, so I’m just hoping mothers with young kids are not his normal demographic, but even more than that I’m hoping it’s not a place that paparazzi would go looking for celebrities.
When we get there he grabs a bag from the backseat and then follows me. I lead us down one of the back paths to a secluded, grassed area under a tree. I sit down on the lush grass and lean against the tree. Jensen passes me the food and then sits across from me.
“If I knew we were having a picnic I would’a grabbed a blanket.”
I look around and then it dawns on me that I’ve taken a rich TV Star to an old park to eat on the dirt. I instantly feel ashamed and embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve come up with something better. I can’t believe I…when it’s just us sometimes I forget the life you’re likely accustomed to…“
He reaches out and gently squeezes my outstretched leg. “Hey, I don’t mind. It's been a long time since I had a picnic but I enjoy the outdoors and it’s quiet. I’m not complaining. It’s actually nice that you just treat me like a normal guy, I love my job but it doesn’t change who I am. And the fact that you generally don’t treat me any differently is probably what draws me to you so much.”
“I swear one day we’ll go somewhere that’s up to your standards.”
He pats my leg. “Who says this isn’t up to my standards? Who wouldn’t want to eat dinner in a park full of hippos?” He says as he gestures over at the playground full of cement hippo statues. “Now, shall we eat before we run out of time?”
I shake my head and let out a breathy laugh as I open the paper bag. I pull out the cardboard boxes and Jensen describes everything he bought.
Once we finish eating, Jensen takes the rubbish to the bin and then comes back over and sits beside me. I scoot forward to let him lean against the tree and then he pulls me so my back is leaning against his chest while his legs are stretched out either side of me. His arms wrap around my shoulders holding me close. We both sit quietly together and watch the few children playing on the playground and riding fake hippos.
After a few minutes he breaks our quiet, “Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s pure curiosity nothing more…but would you ever want kids?”
Without needing to think too much I nod. “With the right guy, at the right time, yeah. When I can afford to give them the life they deserve. You?
“With the right girl, at the right time…my work keeps me so busy, I’d need someone that can understand that, but I also want to be in a position where I wouldn’t have to miss so much.”
I place my hand on his knee and twist slightly so I can look up at him. “Are you sure you’re happy to wait for me?”
He looks down and meets my eyes, “Absolutely. Look…I’d ask you out right now, but I know you’ve been through a lot and you’re just finally getting the help you need. So I’m happy to wait and just be here for you until you’re ready.”
“Thanks. I want to be with you…I just-“
“I know. No rush.”
Knowing our time is almost up by the setting sun, I try to lift the mood back up, “Oh, you know do you?” I say teasingly as I squeeze his knee.
He tilts his head down so his lips are near my ear. “As a matter of fact, I do. You wanna know why?” I nod and he continues, “Because you’re letting me hold you, you let me kiss you at times, and you continue to open up to me. But we’re doing this all at your pace.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,
@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl
@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala
@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed
#jensen ackles imagine#jensen ackles fic#jensen ackles x y/n#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles#supernatural imagine#supernatural fic
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Very kinky Angela x reader sex. I apologize in advance. So so so many trigger warnings, please read with caution. Read tags!
Thankfully, you were both into similar things. Kink-wise.
You and Angela have been together for six months and revealing your most shameful kinks to one another came pretty early on in the relationship. Everything from strap ons to sometimes calling her ‘mommy’.
Tonight, however, you were doing something new. Angela’s tied you up before but never with handcuffs. Real, metal handcuffs. They’re obviously different from the silk ties she’s used on you in the past, but they’re good. The metal scrapes against your wrists when you try to tug on them.
/“I want it to hurt,” you told her.
“Y/n, I don’t want to actually… hurt you,” she said like she was afraid to say it too loudly.
“That’s why we have a safe word,” you reassured her.
“I know, I know,” she said, twisting her mouth. She thought for a moment. “Ok, ok,” Angela sighed with a smile. “So I… pretend I don’t know you, right?”
“Pretend like it’s a one night stand. We’re strangers.”
“How bad do you want, you know, me to,” she struggled to even vaguely say what you were asking of her. You told her you wanted her to hit you, on your arms, legs, stomach, face. Spit on you and degrade you. It was sweet she couldn’t even say it. You knew it was a possibility she might be too sweet for this.
“As much as you want to,” you smiled. “I would love to see some scratch marks tomorrow morning, maybe a little bruising, but this is for you, too. I want it to be enjoyable for you, too.”
“Ok… I can do that.”/
Angela double checks the handcuffs to make sure they’re locked tight. There’s barely room for a finger in between the cuffs and your wrists. You tug on them again and they are definitely not going anyway from around the motel bed headboard. The metal around your wrists is tighter than you expected but you don’t say anything.
The bedroom lights are off aside from a table lamp in the corner of the room offering a soft yellow glow. The motel sign’s red light adds another light source creating the most perfect, sleazy ambiance you were looking for.
Angela is dressed in a black bra and matching underwear. Simple yet incredibly sexy. You’re in a gray tank top and pink boy shorts.
The cuffs dig into the bone at the end of your thumb when you try and pull. It doesn’t hurt but it would if you tugged harder.
The room is silent except for your breathing and Angela’s foot steps as she walks around the room.
Finally, she stops at the side of the bed. You can’t help but stare at her chest, how perfect her boobs look in the black push-up bra. The softness of her stomach, the curve of her hips down to the silk black underwear. What’s underneath is all that’s on your mind. You reach towards her, hoping to pull her underwear down, only to be stopped by the harsh metal against the jutting joints in your hand.
Angela laughs lowly. “Eager, hmm?” She runs two fingers along your leg, from the ankle to your thigh. Shivers make their way up your spine.
She looks down at you, staring for a moment, before slapping your thigh harshly. You grunt at the sharp pain.
“Oh come on, that wasn’t that bad,” she says ruthlessly. “You’re going to need more tolerance than that.”
She climbs onto the bed beside you, leaning in to kiss you roughly. She’s all tongue and teeth and you can’t get enough of it. You moan loudly into her mouth as she bites your bottom lip.
Suddenly, she slaps you. In the face. “Fuck!” you gasp. The force of it turns your head, cheek burying itself into the pillow as the opposite cheek burns.
A hand slips into your underwear, fingers exploring the skin beneath. Your hips involuntarily buck into her hand. You would be embarrassed if this was a true one night stand but it’s Angela. You know her too well to let shame be an issue. You know her too well to be afraid of what she may think. You know what she thinks. She’s yours and you’re hers.
The sting of the slap subsides a little but not enough to stop a tear from rolling down the side of your face.
“God, Ange,” you groan as she kisses down your neck. She sucks, teeth grazing your skin ever so lightly.
Her middle finger circles your clit in fast, tight circles. The pressure of her body on yours is everything you want and more. The skin of her legs on top of yours, her stomach on yours, her chest on yours. The way her chest looks squished against yours when she lifts her head up to look at you, shaking her hair out of her face, is unbelievable.
She forces her weight into you as she slows down her pace on your clit, letting you catch what breath you can, before picking up the brutal pace once more.
The handcuffs clank against the headboard’s poles as your hands try to come down and give you whatever relief from Angela’s rough movement. It feels too good. You want to curl into a ball to make it stop but at the same time you never want her to stop. Your body tingles from your toes to your ears. All you hear is her breathing in your ear and the squeaking of the bed. You know you’re groaning with every few circles but her pants and the springs of the bed are white noise. They’re the only noise you ever want to hear.
“Fuck- I’m- in-“ you try to say ‘inside’ but before you can your orgasm hits you hard. Your stomach tightens and the chain of the cuffs jingles against the bed frame as your arms shake. Angela’s knees hold your legs open. Your eyes shut tight feeling the explosion behind them. Her finger softens against you but doesn’t let up. She rides out your aftershocks, kissing your jaw gently.
“So good, baby,” she whispers.
“I-I don’t-“ you breathe out.
“Shh, I know,” she says. You realize the riding out of your aftershocks is not that at all. The pace on your clit has picked up again and it hurts. You’re too sensitive and she just keeps going.
“I-“ you’re interrupted by your own moan in pain. “Wait-“ you tug on the cuffs.
“Can’t take it, pretty girl?” she says, her movements not letting up. “Hmm?”
You try to bend one of your knees but she sits up as best she can to push your knee back down with her other hand.
“Agh,” your heads hits the pillow in defeat. “Ange, wait, I-I’m serious.”
She wouldn’t stop. Why wasn’t she stopping? You started to get pissed off. Your clit hurt, your wrists and shoulders hurt. Her weight on you now felt claustrophobic. You could barely move beneath her.
The bone of your thumb strains against the cuffs as you continue to pull on them in vain.
Suddenly you remembered you created a safe word. “Catfish cabin,” you wiggled against her. “Catfish cabin, Ange,” your voice strains.
“Mm-mm,” she hums against your neck. Her fingers still going fast against your clit.
“Angela!” you yell, surprisingly yourself with the volume and desperation you say her name with.
“Shut up!” she yells right back. She pushes her fingers sharply to your clit causing you to yell “ow!”
“Shut up,” she yells again, this time adding another slap to the same side of your face as before. The sound was deafening and so is the pain that follows. It feels like someone snapped a hundred rubber bands against your face.
“Angela, please,” your voice is softer and more of a desperate whine if anything. Your stomach flexes so much it’s painful. She’s never done anything like this. Angela is by far the sweetest person you’ve ever known. She didn’t even want to do this stupid game with you for she was too afraid of hurting you. Was that all a ruse?
You barely know the woman above you who won’t take no for an answer. Who is /hurting/ you.
The familiar feeling of the beginning of an orgasm wracks through your body. You whimper out of fear and pleasure. Pleasure you don’t want but feels so good.
More tears fall from your eyes. From pain, panic, and frustration. And shame as well. Shame that part of you is still enjoying this. Shame that your body is reacting exactly how she wants. Your hips move in turn with her finger’s circles.
You try one more time, using all the strength you have left, to wriggle out of her grasp. The cuffs clang loudly as you thrash your arms. You try to bend your knees again, try to get your feet against her to push her off but it’s to no avail. She’s so much stronger than you. Stronger than you ever realized.
The hand in your underwear leaves and you feel empty yet so relieved. The involuntary flexing in your stomach subsides and you can finally catch your breath. Though the euphoria that comes from it finally being over is quick to end when she hits you. This time, it’s a closed fist. You’ve never been punched and fuck does it hurt. She hit the side of your nose. She does it again, this time on your cheek bone.
You let out a sob, squeezing your eyes tight. You can’t look at her.
“Don’t fucking tell me to stop,” she says from above. Her right hand goes back into your underwear and three fingers push into you violently. It felt embarrassingly good for her to finally be inside you. The aching pain in your face mixed with her hitting your g-spot over and over again when that’s all you wanted all night sends you over the edge. Another sob escapes your lips. She kisses you and when she pulls back, there’s blood in her upper lip. Your blood. She hit you so hard your nose bled. You begin to full on cry when your orgasm calms down.
“Katchem,” you cry. “Katchem.”
Angela’s eyes go wide and soft. “Ok, ok,” she whispers and hurries off of you. She’s back in a second with the key to the cuffs and unlocks you. “Ok, take it easy,” she says back in her usual, caring voice while helping you lower your arms from their raised position. “Are you ok?” she asks, touching you as softly as she can. She lightly squeezes your arms down to your calves. One hand reaches back up to hold one of yours while the other strokes your hair. “Are you ok, Y/n? Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go overboard. Fuck fuck fuck, I am so fucking sorry,” her voice cracks, eyes watering.
You start laughing. You must look crazy. Tears and blood streaking your face. She looks a little crazy too, though. She’s got blood on her too. Her big brown eyes covered in a layer of tears.
“Oh my god, Angela,” you sigh. You take a second to catch your breath. “You are amazing, /that/ was amazing.”
“What? Really?” she asks, blinking that causes a tear to run down her cheek.
“Yes!” you practically yell, sitting up. “Ow,” your arms still hurt a bit. “Angela you are fucking incredible,” you kiss her.
You hug her tightly as she sits on the bed, definitely still confused.
“But, but you started crying and-“
“I told you I probably would,” you reassure her.
“And you used the safe word so I got scared-“
“That doesn’t mean anything was bad, I just knew a third orgasm would destroy me,” you laugh and she hugs you tighter.
She lets go to look at your face. “You fucking scared me!” she says, pushing your shoulders a little.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, baby,” you kiss her cheek.
“Oh my god, Y/n,” she exhales, putting her forehead on your shoulder. You rub her back. The skin of her back is hot and sweaty.
“I love you,” you say to her.
“I love you too,” she says back.
She leans forward, pushing you into the bed. Her face nuzzles into your neck and one leg wraps around your waist.
“Come on, we should go shower,” you say.
“Can we, lay here for a minute?” she asks so softly you might cry again.
“Of course,” you scratch her scalp lightly and kiss her forehead. The two of you end up falling asleep until the morning.
#tw: sa#tw: blood#tw: domestic violence#it’s not really sa or domestic violence but if you read it without the ending it is#and it still depicts it#you know what i mean#ok so I watched the movie strange darling and this came into my head#i was very close to not adding the true safe word fake out#but i felt like this was a lot#i actually really like how it turned out with the new ending of everyone was safe and happy the whole time#angela thoughts#angela giarratana#angela giarratana x reader
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See It In Your Eyes
Pairing: fem!reader x Derek Morgan
Description: Derek Morgan is a notorious playboy, not ever thinking of settling down. Until he met Y/N and started hooking up with her.
Content Warning: mention of parent death, mentions of an argument, other than that it’s Derek being cute and nervous, some good quality fluff <3
Word Count: 2.2K
Based on this ask
Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request
Tagging my bestie: @rainaaaskyy, who has been begging me for a Derek fic since she found out I’ve been writing. Hope you like it. 🫶🏻
Derek wasn’t a man for strings attached, exclusive relationships. He just wasn’t bred for that type of thing. He could barely hold a relationship for longer than 6 months, it just wasn’t something he wasn’t interested in. Getting married, having kids, doing the whole family bullshit.. It wasn’t appealing. He liked his freedom, never being tied to one person for the rest of his life.
His newest fling was Y/N, who worked a simple 9-5 in an office downtown, in the accounting department. She seemed to be into the same thing he was, just having someone around for casual sex as well as that small sliver of companionship before they ultimately ended up getting tired of one another.
The thing was, Derek enjoyed the time he spent with her. The sex was amazing, obviously. In addition to that though, she was truly a gem to be around. She had the best sense of humor, she was a damn good cook, and she just had a warmth to her. Regardless of how she wasn’t the type for relationships, being a bit of a playgirl herself, she did a good job of making a man feel special. Even if he’s just the man of the month.
There were times where he wanted to push her away, tell her to go on to the next man in line. However, part of Derek didn’t want that at all. No, he had dreams of them living in one of his restored houses, a couple of kids running around in the backyard, maybe even a couple dogs. It wasn’t something he was used to at all. Which he assumed was what triggered his flight response, wanting to run off before growing attached to the point that he was a lovesick puppy.
His career was hard on any potential relationships. After all, who wants to be with someone who can leave for days or even weeks at a time? Not really a relationship worth having.
He guessed he was more nervous of the outcome of a situation where he died in the field. He couldn’t imagine leaving behind a child after losing his life on a case. He knew first hand how it felt to lose your father at a young age, thankfully these hypothetical children wouldn’t have to see his demise though.
It was traumatizing to lose a parent at a young age, much less a parent that you loved dearly.
The more rational side of him was well aware that he wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon, so the fear was a bit outlandish. Besides, why did he care about kids when he wasn’t having any right now? Oh my god, Derek is thinking about having kids. He’s getting attached, attached to a woman who matched him in the commitment issues department.
This was a recipe for disaster.
Before the team left for a case across the state, Derek had pulled out an attitude out of nowhere. It was his way of starting to distance himself to escape the inevitable. It was enough to make Y/N show her more emotional side, the woman leaving upset with the slam of his apartment door after demanding him to call her back when he wasn’t acting like an overgrown child.
Derek must’ve been too lost in his thoughts again, his head resting back against the headrest of the jet seat that he’d gotten comfortable in for the ride back to Quantico. Wrapped up in the confusing fantasies of him being married with two children, he didn’t even realise whenever someone was sitting in front of him.
“Don’t tell me it’s S.D.U time already,” JJ commented, now sitting across from Derek who was looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. “S.D… Excuse me?” He asked, throughly confused on what the blonde was getting at. The abbreviation could’ve been too many things, his brain drawing up a blank. Asking Spencer would’ve probably short circuited his circuits, I mean, his brain.
“S.D.U. She doesn’t understand. Yo, she doesn’t understand our schedule. Yo, baby girl, she doesn’t know how hard our job is.” The blonde continued, putting on her best Derek impression while the male let his eyes roll, a chuckle leaving his lips. “I do not sound like that.”
“It’s where you break up with a girlfriend, or more likely, you get her to break up with you.” JJ finally answered his questions and suspicions while leaning back in her seat. “She isn’t even my girlfriend.” Derek pointed out, making her put her hands up in self defense. “Whenever you are with someone every day you are able to, I think it’s safe to say that you aren’t just being casual.” She commented. “I think you’re just too afraid to get attached.”
Profiler JJ held back no punches, damn.
“Are you profiling me?” Derek asked the obvious question while chuckling. “I think I liked you better as our communications liaison.” His tone was teasing as he brought his hands to rest in his lap.
“Hey, I learned from the best.” JJ matched his tone before sighing. “However, I feel like you just need to think this through before you end anything. I mean, the Derek Morgan I know doesn’t usually struggle with his thoughts this much. That’s gotta mean something, right?”
Leave it to JJ to be the voice of reason, the one to make Derek ponder even harder on what he wanted. If he ended it, the fantasy would stop. If he didn’t, the fantasy would persist and more than likely become his reality.
That was when the realization struck him. He loved Y/N. As much as he wouldn’t ever admit it, he did. He began to love her, even if he couldn’t articulate the way he had to admit it, he did feel that deep, unmistakable emotion that drew him to her within the past six months.
Love. Derek Morgan is fucking in love.
The word kept bouncing around his skull, almost like he didn’t know the meaning of it, having to learn what love was all over again in order for it to sink in.
Penelope was gonna lose her mind over this, going to love the very idea of Derek, her chocolate thunder, settling down and actually living a family life, being a husband and a father. The way he would slowly turn from a man who didn’t want children to a man who adored his own children, the stars in his sky.
Even after the jet was landed in Quantico and the team was filing off, there wasn’t a missed beat when David was looking around the group. “I say we go out for a drink tonight to celebrate a successful case with no casualties. I’m buying.” He proposed.
However, Derek was shaking his head as he held his go bag in his hand. “I can’t join tonight.” The words made everyone look over, some in a mixture of shock and others in concern. “Everything okay?” Aaron was asking, catching the tail end of the conversation to hear Derek turning down joining the rest of the team on a night out of celebration.
“I’ve just.. I’ve got things to do, that’s all.” He explained, the best of his ability. However, Penelope Garcia wasn’t gonna let anyone just run away without giving her an explanation. It didn’t surprise him at all when she was hot on his heels as soon as he exited the bullpen. “What’s going on? Derek, are you sick? You know that I can go back with you and make sure you’re okay. Or that if you need go talk that I’ll listen.”
The kindhearted woman wasn’t expecting the next words to come out of his mouth.
“I just need to talk to Y/N. She’s the girl that I’ve been seeing. I have some things to tell her.” His voice trailed off until he felt two hands on his shoulders, his attention down at the blonde who was already firing up. “Do you love her? Derek! You love her, don’t you?! Are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?? Oh, my god! I hope she doesn’t mind sharing you with me because I don’t think-“ Derek was chuckling as his hand was playfully being placed over her mouth.
“Baby girl, chill.” The nickname had the woman smiling as she licked his hand in order for him to move it. “Fine. But you owe me details, mister! I wanna hear all about it when you get back!” She demanded while walking him to the elevator, a wide smile on her face as she let her arms cross over her chest.
It wasn’t long until he’d made it to the familiar apartment complex, the male taking in a breath as he had to give himself a pep talk in the car. Derek Morgan being nervous, that was new. Something he’d never live down, but new. Instead of driving over here to fully put a stop to a fling, he was putting himself in the position of throwing himself into a relationship.
As Dr. Spencer Reid would say, “Men are 5% more certain that they are in love.”
Derek was much more than 5% certain.
As he was getting out of the car and hurrying up the steps of the complex, it wasn’t long until he was standing outside apartment 24, the numbers faded and dying to be replaced. His fist was coming out to knock against the door, a soft huff leaving his lips as he was glancing around the poorly lit hallway.
The sound of locks were clicking on the inside, the door open and a familiar face poking out. “Derek?” Y/N asked, her hand coming up to rub her eyes. She must’ve fallen asleep, it being 11 pm made it very obvious. “What are you doing here? No call, no text?” She asked, a yawn leaving her lips as she was opening the door more in order to let him step inside.
“I just got home from the case that I left for.” He clarified while his gaze was falling on the tired woman as he was closing the door behind him, his hand reaching behind him to lock up just so she didn’t have to.
“Derek, I’m way too tired for sex tonight. I’m sorry.” She began as the male let out a soft sigh. “No, no. That’s.. I’m not here for that.” He spoke while he was resting a hand on her lower back, leading the confused woman over to the couch while the two were sitting beside each other.
“Then why are you here?” There was confusion, Derek never really came over for much else. Sure, he’d stay afterwards but she was pretty used to them going to each other’s apartments for sex and then they stayed afterwards for whatever else they wanted to do.
“I just.. I’ve been thinking a lot. About you. About us.” He began, feeling a light layer of sweat covering his forehead from just how nervous he was. He could feel his heart beating, almost as if it were ready to bust out of his chest and take over the conversation for him. If only it was that easy.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that.. I know this was supposed to be casual but as the months have gone on, I’ve had these thoughts.. About us. A future that we could potentially have, something that could be ours. No more sleeping around, no more stressing over what could’ve been of yet another fling we called off..”
This was where he was bracing himself. Derek wasn’t used to rejection, not in the slightest. This was where he could break, where he could feel exactly how everyone else felt when he’d be calling off everything and run off to the next person. He had the possibly of feeling his heart being brutally ripped out of his chest, stomped on the ground in front of him.
Instead of getting stabbed in the heart, the woman beside him was offering a smile. “You’ve been thinking about a future with me?” The words had her looking down, shy as could be. Which was funny considering this man seen everything she had to offer, yet the thought of a relationship with him had her giddy like a child.
“I’m not used to this. Confessions.” She admitted. “Truthfully, most men come over and call things off so I was a bit worried when you told me you wanted to talk.” She laughed softly while slowly rubbing her hands over her thighs. “But.. I’ll admit that I’ve been having similar thoughts. About you, obviously.” She spoke.
Derek let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, a smile gracing his features. Thank god. He didn’t know how he’d react if she said anything other than that, who knows, it probably could’ve broke him completely and turned him from his playboy days and brought him into a life of heartache.
Dramatics aside, there was no denying the relief and happiness that was flooding the room.
However it wasn’t long until Y/N was playfully swatting Derek’s arm, the man bringing a hand up in mock offense as if that was the worst thing she’d ever done.
“What was that for?!”
“For waiting until I’m trying to be mad at you to tell me this!”
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fandom#derek morgan#derek morgan fic#criminal minds fluff#derek morgan fanfiction#derek morgan fanfic#penelope and derek being besties#derek morgan fluff
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«Blog Intro»
Hi there random on the internet, or maybe someone that I know that it's seeing my blog because for a strange fucking reason they like me??
I love to curse and as I say in my blog description I'm considered a hypocrite semi-problematic questionable alter and this is my semi-problematic hypocrite questionable blog... You wanna know more about me and the blog? Sure, let's dive into it
About the blog
Probably gonna do a tags masterlist for you to not what to filter tag, the reason? Well let me give you a little list of what kind of content I might post here
Dark humor, I FUCKING LOVE DARK HUMOR
Jokes about my trauma and problems
Mention or talking about serious and/or triggering topics
My opinions, might be problematic or seems as hypocrite
My thoughts, the same thing as above
Discourse posts but not being open to have a discourse chat about it (Only if I said so)
(If I do I'm gonna update this)
I don't filter myself most of the time when doing posts, but I do take accountability if I did wrong and hurt people
I'm 100% open minded so don't assume things about me and I'm conscious I can be wrong, just my actitud reads "I do not give a shit anymore" and that's right, I don't most of the time lol
I'm just a chaotic little persecutor who wants to have fun and has a very strange mind, deal with it or block me, I don't want fucking problems, and if you do tell me shit I'm gonna answer it laughing about it, no one can hate me more than I do LMAO
I fluent in spanish and english so expect some random posts to be in spanish (They're gonna be the minority, I don't like spanish at all but because it's my native language I have to stick with it ugh /neg)
Sometimes I'll post art that I did, drawings and narrative so beware
I might have some NSFW posts, but they're obviously gonna be tagged correspondingly, so please filter your tags when being in this blog, interact at your own responsibility, I do tag, I'm not responsible for you not filter tagging or ignoring the posts
About me
My name's Namelnom but you can call me Namel for short (NEVER EVER CALL ME NAME OK???) or you can give me a nickname. Some friends call me the fucking traumatized gay and tbh that's me fr, I do not mind that kind of names xD
Do not call me human, I'm aware the body's human but I'm not, I'm a non human alter who their identity also falls into the therian and otherkin ID, I'm so far away from being human that I'm a-ok with some dehumanizing jokes
Besides from host I'm also: Problematic alter, multolder, janusian, subsys-admin... And I won't be giving out more details lol
My basic list of pronouns from what I use/like most to the less used is: He/It/They/Xem/Persm/Coffeself/Purpleself/Robotself/Wolfself
But you can use any pronouns that's not feminine, feminine aligned or feminine related... And pink, this includes she/her and neo/xeno pronouns that fall into that category
My queer labels are plenty so...
Gender ID: Transmasc, GNC, Dya Man, Concefaun, Void Gender, Implagender
Orientations: Oriented AroAce, AegoAroAce, Apothiosexual, Cupioromantic, Devoromantic, Fidesqueerplatonic, Panqueerplatonic, Demi-Sensual, Omniaesthetic
Others: Polyqueerplatonic, Ambiamorous, Hyperased, T4T, ND4ND, AroAce4AroAce
Probably gonna make a more in depth post about this, if I do I'm gonna link it here for you to see easily
Because they're here and probably gonna be the only ones to see my blog /hj I'm giving a honor mention to my son and my platonic husband!! I love them so much 💜
My platonic husband: @dpdazai ✨✨✨
My awesome son: @jesuswasacreature ✨✨✨
Also some other misc info about me is:
As I previously said I'm otherkin, therian and otherlink, I have my suspicions about other things but, hey, I don't have the energy to read about them
I'm atheist satanist meaning I follow the satanist philosophy and commandments but I don't believe in satan nor worship him
I'm anti-genderist tho I might do some jokes about gender and that kind of shit lmao
Not in a religious way but I'm animistic (Hope I'm writing it correctly lol) meaning I have the strong and firm believe that everything is alive, have emotions and a soul, yes, objects and inanimate things too
Anarcho queer, deal with it or fuck it, I do not care anymore for activism nor I'm part of the LGBTQIA+ community
I have A LOT of shipping and shipper labels, I'm not gonna say a lot about this in this blog but have that in mind
I have ginofobia, no, I'm not sexis or misoginist, I'm just a traumatized fucker who developed a phobia because of trauma, deal with it or block me
I'm pro-abortion, you don't like that? Cry about it
Boundaries
I'm 100% ok with answering asks of almost all kind, just nothing that's too explicit because I don't want that in my blog, tho I normally can stand that lol
Go ahead and interact all you want, juts have in mind that if you want to have a talk or a debate or something similar around some topic I mentioned in some post or you want me to give out an opinion of something sure you can, just respect that sometimes I won't be entering and having those talks because I simply don't want to
Do not assume we're friends if I haven't tell you we are, I tend to act like I'm friends with everyone when that's not true at all
OTI (Ok to interact)
A-normative people (Neurodivergent, queer, POC, etc.)
People with CDD (I know they're a-normative but still lol)
Open minded people
People who are "cringe" and just have fun
Likes dark humor
Artists and writers
Thin Ice
Neurotypicals (Like, don't having any disorder or neurodivergence)
Straight & cis people
Anime fans, otakus or any kind of people who it's like asian multimedia obsessed (Trauma goes brr)
Women (Trauma goes brr x2)
Darkshippers who don't put TW and censor to access the content
DNI (Do not interact)
Basic DNI (homophobics, transphobics, racist, classist, ableists, etc.)
Pro-life people
TERFS & radqueers (Yeah I'm putting them together because for me they're like equal shit)... Also, any kind of extremists
Fakes mental disorders for x or y reason
Stigmatize disorders
People with a savior complex and/or who feel morally superior
Closed mind people
Darkshippers who romanticize that shit
Fugoshis and fundashis (Any kind of people who fetichies/sexualizes gay/lesbian relationships)
People who think because they're part of a minority they can't discriminate ("I'm trans I can't be homophobic" " I'm POC I can't be racist", etc.)
Anti-shippers, like in general
Anti therian, otherkin and alterhuman
Anti any kind of content that's sen "cringe"
Doesn't take accountability and/or makes up excuses
Userboxes
When I finish the rest I'm gonna add the rest of my userboxes, at least the rest that are important to have here
(I only like using my own made userboxes sorry not sorry ig?)
Probably I'm gonna make a post just to hoard all my userboxes lmao
#endos dni#alter blog#alter sideblog#cdd system#cdd alter#cdd community#osddid system#osddid#osddid community#did system#did alter#polyfrag did#did community#polyfragmented#complex dissociative disorder#polyfrag system#alters#dissociative identity disorder#therian#nonhuman#alterhuman#otherkin#queer#lgbtqia#bilingual blog#artist#shipper#userboxes#blog intro#intro post
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BACK TO YOU PART 13
Hellooooo! So apparently, I've been out for too long again XD
But here we are now with our Chapter 13. The end is almost near! Will make this a bit long so that you can enjoy... I hope!
So of course, tagging my precious readers~
Taglist: @unofficialmuilover @ahashiraswife @skeleton-the-gangser @crazycatlddy @obsessily-tm @sofilsword @virtualcolorland
𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚇𝙸𝙸𝙸
𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)
<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>
TRIGGER WARNING! BLOOD and Violence in this chapter.
Content Warnings: Curse words, Emotional Trauma, Panic, Violence
(Image isn’t mine. Credits to the rightful owner)
“I’ll talk to Hotaru. I believe I can convince him.”
“NO!”
Sanemi and Tomioka said it in unison, but that didn’t change your mind.
“I’m not pulling anyone of you into this mess. I’m going to fix this, and it’s final.”
"L/N-san... You must be kidding, right?"
"No, Iguro-san."
You stood in front of the three men, determined to end the conflict with Hotaru. But then, of course, two of those two men won't let this happen.
"But I think it's my fault, Y/N. I met with Hotaru before to tell him to leave you alone. Iguro-san saw us, and he also became involved because Sanemi is his friend. Perhaps this is why Hotaru is so pissed off."
You can't deny the shock on your face as Giyu confessed what happened a few nights ago. Sanemi held your hand, but with all your best, you avoided eye contact with him. On the other hand, Giyu tried to convince you once again, but that made you snap.
"All my life, you've been protecting me, Tomioka-san. Let me do something for myself this time. Let me fix this mess. I don't want you or Sanemi to get in trouble for my problem."
"But you're being irrational right now, Y/N!" Sanemi said in an annoyed tone as he held you by your shoulders. You could see the veins popping out of his forehead as he glared at you. Despite the knowledge that he is not angry with you, that caused your heart to race.
"But this is also a consequence of me punching him! And besides, this is not just your problem. I don't care if I lose my licence from this, but—"
"But I care, Sanemi... I care about you and Tomioka a lot. I don't want more bad things to happen. Let me fix this mess. Please trust me this time."
"I never expected you'd want to meet up with me—"
"What do you really want, Hotaru?"
You stood in front of the man you hated the most, unbothered by the smirk on his lips. Hotaru lifted his hand to touch your cheek, but you immediately swatted his hand. You know that you are in his territory, but that isn't an excuse to touch you.
After telling the three men that you'd talk to Hotaru, you found yourself paying a visit to his old flat. And yes, fortunately, he is there at the moment.
Sanemi, Giyu, and Obanai accompanied you, of course. As they waited anxiously outside the flat, Sanemi couldn't help but feel guilty. Obanai noticed it and spoke up nonchalantly.
"Can I just say that I'm not ready to see you in this state, Sanemi?"
"Just fucking shut up. This is all my fault, Obanai."
Sanemi wanted to just follow you inside, but Giyu did his best to remind him to trust you. The ravenette knows that even if the three of them try to stop you, they won't be able to do so. So all they can do right now is wait and be prepared to support you in case anything happens.
Back to you inside the flat, you glared at Hotaru, cursing him with every inch of your soul. If looks could kill, perhaps you would've murdered the man at this moment. But still, Hotaru seems to be unbothered.
The man, obviously larger than you, towered over you as he scooted close. "Don't you miss being with me, Y/N?" He asked in a sad tone that made you feel shivers run up your spine.
If there's anything that you were missing before, it's your innocence that he stole from you.
"I will never miss the way you abused me."
Those words caught Hotaru off-guard. He stopped on his tracks and looked up at the ceiling, as if waiting for something to just appear there.
You can clearly remember this gesture. The mere thought of your ex doing this when he was in a foul mood caused your knees to weaken. But you fought that anxiety and spoke up.
"Can we just settle all this once and for all? What do you want to happen? What do you want me to do just for you to leave us alone?"
"I'm dying, Y/N. Stage three cancer. I only have a month left."
His words left you flabbergasted. Yes, you wanted to get rid of Hotaru and even thought of violence, but you never meant all of that. You don't want him to be gone because of death. You're not that bad.
Gulping, you looked down and sighed deeply. Trying your best not to get vulnerable with him, you just repeated your question. "What do you want me to do just for you to leave us alone?"
"Be with me again."
"You know I won't do that. I love Sanemi."
"You're really heartless now, aren't you, Y/N?"
"It's you who are heartless, Hotaru. You dying isn't an excuse to ruin my life again. This is not an excuse to threaten the people I love."
Hotaru sighed and cupped your face. His motions made you uncomfortable, but you just froze there.
"I would have distributed that video if my intention was to completely destroy your boyfriend's life, correct? But I didn't. I just sent it to your friend."
"But why?"
"I think I don't really care that much about that white-haired idiot. I just want you. And look, I think that worked because you are here now."
His words send shivers down your body. His hold on your face suddenly tightened, making you tear up. You tried to hit him, but Hotaru just easily captured your hand and squeazed it too.
"They're outside..." You tried to threaten, but then Hotaru didn't care at all. He slammed you against the wall and started kissing you. You wanted to shout, but his hands are now covering your mouth, muffling your voice.
"I'm dying, Y/N. And if I can't have you in this life, I'll make sure no one will have you."
You tried to struggle, but Hotaru punched you in the stomach, which made you almost lose your senses. You fell down on the floor, almost breathless and feeling helpless. Hotaru crouched down and used his finger to trace a line on your jaw line.
"I've been watching you for weeks, Y/N. Everything resurfaced in my mind the moment I spotted you exiting that restaurant with that foul-mouthed, scarred boy the night before. You almost saw me back then, but you were so preoccupied looking at him. Do you remember?"
"What the fuck, Hotaru?"
You hugged yourself as you tried to stand up again, but then, with his words, a faint memory came back to you. So he was there? He was... that guy?
Flashback
You groaned loudly, making some people look at the both of you. Realising that you both were in public, Sanemi raised an eyebrow at some bystanders and spoke with a cold tone.
“What’s the matter with you? Enjoying the show? Go fuck off.”
No one would ever think that this foul-mouthed man is a teacher with how he acts sometimes. You shot him a glance, mortified at what he had done, but it didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest.
End of flashback
"Angel, believe me... I tried to forget you, but I can't. I am dying, but fate has brought you back to me. And thankfully, all my plans worked. Remember the time when you almost got hit by a car?"
You seethed with anger as you tried to throw a vase at Hotaru. And yet, like he always does, he catches it easily. He approached you and forcibly pulled you by the hair, causing you to sob in agony. "Don't be too feisty, angel... You haven't heard the whole story."
"Fuck you!"
"I definitely will. As soon as we get out of this place."
Disgusted, you just wished for Sanemi, Tomioka, or even Iguro to just pop out of nowhere to save you. But unfortunately, the three men were still oblivious to what was happening at the moment.
Hotaru pulled your hair harder and spoke up once again. "It's my colleague who almost hit you. Oh well, I actually planned it. I paid them to do that. And here we are now, my angel. I've missed you so much."
You're now sure that Hotaru isn't just dying. He's also out of his mind.
"Hotaru... you're insane."
"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean that I'm losing you over someone inferior to me."
"It's almost 30 minutes, Tomioka. I have a bad feeling." Sanemi told Giyu, who is now feeling more anxious than earlier. Obanai stopped playing games on his phone and looked at the two men, who seemed to have just encountered something traumatic.
"I think we should check on her. I think I heard a thud earlier. I'm worried." Giyu finally expressed his worry, causing Sanemi's eyes to light up.
"Check on her. I'll wait for the both of you here. I'll get ready in case you'll need me."
Sanemi patted Obanai's shoulder, and both he and Tomioka finally went out to the flat. Hearts racing, both the men you loved the most are now heading towards you.
"Please let go of me!"
You finally managed to get your strength back and push Hotaru. Fortunately, you got the chance to get one of the katanas that was hanging in his living room as a decoration. In a desperate move, you sheathed the sword and pointed it at him.
"Touch me again, and I'll fucking kill you, Hotaru!"
"Kill me? You can't even wield that sword we—"
Before he could even finish his words, you managed to slash his face. That made Hotaru shout and finally charge you with all his might.
Outside, the man's voice echoed, which made Sanemi's eyes widen. Before Tomioka could even react, the silver-haired man sprinted towards Hotaru's flat. Thankfully, you told them the details earlier, so he was able to locate it easily.
Without any thought, Sanemi kicked the door open, and there he saw you pinned to the wall, trying to snatch back the katana from Hotaru's bleeding hand.
Seeing your boyfriend, tears run down your face. You never wanted any of this to happen, but your problem seems to haunt you again, worse than ever. You just wanted to end this, but then you felt weak as Hotaru's hand tightened on your neck.
"Fucker! Let go of her!"
Sanemi charged towards Hotaru. He was able to dissuade the man from approaching you by tackling him, and he is undeniably considerably stronger than your ex. Sanemi's fist landed on Hotaru's face tonnes of times, but that didn't knock the man out of consciousness.
Tomioka managed to reach the room, and yet before he could throw a punch at Hotaru as well, he managed to see you crouching at the corner, in pain, as you helplessly watched your boyfriend beat up your psycho ex.
"Call the cops." You told Tomioka as he helped you stand up.
"I will call them after I stop Shinazugawa-san from killing Hotaru!" Tomioka rushed in to see the seething man, pulling him away from the older man, who was bleeding everywhere.
"Shinazugawa-san! That's enough!"
"FUCK YOU, OLD MAN!" Before Giyu could finally pull the math teacher away, Sanemi still managed to land one final punch on Hotaru's face.
Panting, Sanemi ran towards you and embraced you tightly. He felt like the world stopped, in a bad way, as he saw how hurt you were. "I'm sorry, baby... I shouldn't have let you go here alone." He said this, cupping your cheek as tears streamed down his face.
You kissed Sanemi slowly, embracing him back and wishing he would calm down. You never intended to worry him this much; much more, let him dirty his hands for you. "I love you..." You whispered as you buried your face on his chest.
With a faint relief painted on his face, Giyu looked at both of you as you finally had the chance to look up. But then, just as you thought the chaos had finally ended, you saw a glimpse of Hotaru standing just behind Tomioka with a knife in his hand.
With that, adrenaline filled you, and there, you pushed Sanemi out of the way. That is also just in time to save the life of the man whom you treated as your real brother and best friend.
A tinge of pain crept into your senses as you were now eye-to-eye with Tomioka, whose eyes widened in shock. Slowly, you held on to his shoulders as your knees weakened and the pain in your back became worse.
"Y/N! No! I never meant to..."
Hotaru's voice echoed in the background, but that isn't important anymore. "Tomioka-san... Thank you for trusting me this time. I love you. Tell Sanemi, I... love... him... too... so much..."
And after telling him those words, the world darkened.
It seems like his life flashed in front of him as Sanemi watched you rush towards the aid of Tomioka. He felt all his strength drain from his body as he witnessed Hotaru stabbing you.
"Y/N!"
He ran towards you but then kicked the helpless murderer aside. "I'll make sure you'll rot in jail!" Sanemi screamed as his tears streamed down his cheek. He turned to look in your direction, and there he saw Tomioka holding your unconscious body.
He can clearly sense the shock in the ravenette's state, but that doesn't stop him from checking your pulse and carrying you. "She's still alive, Tomioka. Let's fucking get her to the hospital!"
"What the fuck happened here? I'll call the ambulance and the police!"
Obanai's voice echoed in the flat, and there he rushed in to dial the authorities. Tomioka, on the other hand, managed to finally stand up. "I'll make sure you'll never get out of this, Hotaru. I swear. If Y/N dies, I'll kill you."
He said that and finally helped Sanemi carry you towards the couch.
Hotaru sat on a corner, having a nervous breakdown as he realised what he just did. He stabbed the love of his life. If you die, it'll be the end of everything for him.
Just before Hotaru can make a move could say a word, the EMTs came onto the scene, and the police also managed to get ahold of Hotaru.
"Sanemi, I..."
"Don't say anything, Tomioka. It's not your fault."
"But—"
"Don't fucking say anything like that! Because if you do, you'll just prove to me that Y/N's sacrifice is nonsense. And I might end up hurting you here. Right here, right now."
After hearing that, Tomioka decided to just leave the man alone for a while.
Sanemi, on the other hand, felt like he was in an endless loop of nightmares. He never expected to see you once again in this state, unconscious at the hospital. All he can feel right now is that everything seems to be slipping away from him. He doesn't ever want to lose you.
Hearing the endless beeping of the heart monitor, he can't help but count the seconds that have passed since he's been alone here with you. Burying his head on your palm, he let his tears fall once again as a sob escaped his lips.
"Please don't leave me, Y/N. I can't live without you. Please come back to me."
𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅…
𝓢𝓸 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝔂!
But what will happen now to the love story of Y/N and Sanemi?
Let's all find out on the next chapter of Back to You!
Thank you so much for your patience and never ending support on this series!
Will keep you updated, I promise~
For a while, feel free to reblog, comment, and request anything! Thank you!
~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸
<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>
#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#demon slayer imagines#kimetsu no yaiba#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#giyuu tomioka#sanemi x fem!reader#kny sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi#kny giyuu#sanemi x y/n#rengoku x reader#sanemi x you#giyuu#giyu tomioka#demon slayer giyuu#kimetsu giyuu#tomioka giyuu#iguro obanai#demon slayer obanai#kny obanai#obanai iguro#obamitsu#hotaru haganezuka#hotaru haganezuka x reader#hotaru demon slayer
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Fic where ville meets the lead singer of another band who’s performing at the same festival of him and he like has the biggest crush on her but whenever he tries to flirt with her it goes horribly wrong and he says the weirdest shit and she just kinda 🧍♀️ and he just embarrasses himself the whole time until she finally gets what he’s trying to do and goes out w him
from the band | v.v
ville has it bad for the lead singer of one of the other bands at a festival HIM is playing in, and he has a horrible way of showing it.
warnings: nervous ville, miscommunication at its finest, a tiny hint of mentioned suggestive content
word count: 4.1k
a/n: got a couple of asks kind of like this and combined them into one! also you guys are literal geniuses the plots you send are so good
tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @4377666 @althaiascure
— —
Ville usually didn't give a flying shit about who else was playing at any of the festivals HIM was booked for. He was just there to enjoy his gigs, get ridiculously plastered, and maybe cause a little ruckus with the band while they weren't on stage. He didn't really want to be there anyway, as he was getting more homesick for Helsinki by the day and the hot sun was making him feel a little crazy, so it's not like he was actively participating in anything besides the drinking.
Until the last act that had gone on after them came down from the stage and into the artists' area where they were all getting progressively drunker by the minute due to the fact that they'd already played their show and had nothing left to do except drown their livers for the next 16 hours or so.
And where he said he usually didn't give a flying shit about who else was playing, this band did not apply. Because he'd seen this band before, and had seen the lead singer, who was drop dead gorgeous. Ville had never seen another woman like her, and for some reason felt his heart rate picking up like he was a fucking schoolgirl every time they happened to cross paths. And they were definitely crossing paths now, because she was getting a beer from the same cooler that they'd all been drinking out of after they'd come down.
However, he stayed completely silent, only watching her and admiring the smooth way she moved until she was gone. Burton, who had been talking to him specifically while they all sat around together in a circle on empty beer buckets, snorted.
"You're going to scare her off if you keep looking at her like that." He said, pointing very obviously over to Ville's not-so-secret crush as he talked through a swig of his beer. Mige laughed right along with him, nudging Ville's arm.
"Not if she smells him first." He teased, only making Ville scowl harder than he already had been before as he relented under his friends' teasing. They were clearly not on his side here, and the hot sun was making him feel a lot more irritated than usual, so all he did was kick Burton's bucket and elbow Mige right back a lot harder.
"Go fuck yourselves. Are we not allowed to look at other people anymore?" He spoke in a hostile tone as he threw a hand in the air, finishing off the last of his beer after he spoke and then crushing the can in his hand with enough force to displace some of his irritation. Gas shrugged.
"...do you look at us like you want to shove your hand down our pants?" That triggered a completely new wave of laughing and guffawing at Ville's expense. Even Linde, who usually couldn't be bothered to do more than roll his eyes, was snickering. They were being so loud that it had drawn her attention over in their direction, and then before he knew it, she was staring right at Ville. Which was horrible timing, because at that moment all he was doing was glaring. She clearly seemed taken aback by the sight of him when their eyes connected, and Ville mentally slapped himself when she quickly looked away.
"Now look what you fucking idiots did." He grumbled, standing up from where he'd been sitting in pursuit of another beer. His nerves were swimming with irritation despite the pile of beer cans he'd ingested by this time of day, and he needed more. "All you pricks know how to do is scare women away."
"Yeah, well you're not doing much better. Bet you 15 that she wouldn't give you the time of day if your face was already in her tits." Mige guffawed crudely, and loudly, as Ville picked at the tab of his beer can and tried not to commit a homicide. He about lost his reserve when he looked up to see that she was looking at them. And she had clearly heard what was being said, because there was a disgusted pout on her face that Ville couldn't help but find deeply attractive.
He felt hopelessness sinking in due to his friends' horrible timing and the lack of interest this painfully gorgeous rockstar was giving him, and before long there was another cigarette stuck between his lips as he went in search of a beer cooler that was still cold. He had been aiming to talk to this girl at least enough to get a good dose of the addicting sound of her voice, but at this point he'd mostly given up in favor of scowling at the grass he was kicking as he walked.
Usually this wasn't hard for him, but he had always had a soft spot for musicians. And it didn't help that she had almost completely ignored him in every interaction the two of them had ever shared, which honestly only made him want her more. He'd never actually heard her speak, only sing, but today he was aiming to change that.
However, fate and its impeccable timing seemed to have other plans for him, because just as he was crouching down to grab one of the last German beers that was actually in a bottle instead of a can, his attention was drawn by a voice behind him.
"Are you the lead singer of the headliner band?" It was a woman's voice, and Ville internally slouched. Great. Security was obviously shit, because now on top of his asshole company, groupies were worming their way into the artists' grounds. His jaw clenched.
"I don't fuck groupies." Sure, he was being a little short to a person who probably didn't deserve it, but he was too sober to find it funny, and he was in a bad mood anyway. There was a disbelieving scoff in response to his curt answer, and he immediately paled and stood back up when he realized who he'd just spoken to.
It was her. Of course it was fucking her.
"I was gonna ask if you could get the staff to send out more beer." She revealed sourly, her eyes raking over his in a way that in no way matched the way his eyes had been raking over her when she hadn't been looking. She then spat in the grass, and despite the embarrassment burning down his neck, Ville somehow found it in him to feel himself getting even hotter at the sight. However, she was too busy continuing her hostile retort to notice the flame in his eyes. "Not every woman who talks to you wants to fuck you. Dick."
And boom. Now he felt even worse. She turned on the tattered heel of her sneaker and marched right off before his lips could even part to allow him to explain himself, and all he could do in that moment was let out a heavy, irritated sigh as he watched her go. Might as well get her fucking beer and drown in his sorrows bottle-style considering he had nothing else going on for another two hours.
As he walked back towards where he knew the staff would be gathered waiting for whatever prima-donna rockstar came banging on their tent with some ridiculous request, Ville hummed softly to himself, scowl on his face no doubt one to reckon with as he passed other rockstars of various bands getting trashed beyond belief in order to cope with the fact that they'd be playing with several big names as the night progressed. He was trying to ignore his own bandmates ogling at the girl he so obviously had a thing for for the sake of his own temper, but he found his eyes drawn to the scene regardless, and then his jaw was clenched even tighter before he lost sight of the infuriating scene as he continued his search for her requested beer.
—
You were not a pushover. Flourishing in a scene so deeply dominated by men who more-often-than-not would've rathered to grab your tits in a crowd surf than to ever play on the same stage as you was more than exhausting, but you'd earned your place. However, that didn't mean you'd ever stop coming in contact with the ones who had a problem with you.
And, apparently, Ville Valo really had a problem with you. It was evident in even the slightest of his movements and the way his eyes moved over you, and you were more than sick of it. You'd already heard the words 'face in her tits' thrown around whilst him and the rest of his band had been blatantly staring in your direction, and him assuming that you were a groupie begging to fuck him had solidified your distaste towards him.
But god, there was just something about him. You'd felt it only from the several times you'd found yourself making eye contact with him from however far apart the two of you were, and to be honest, before you'd picked up on his extremely hostile demeanor, you'd almost considered that he might've been checking you out. But now, as you watched him stomp his way across the grounds with his heavy Doc Martens scuffing the grass that he was glowering at, you just found him annoying. You should've known, considering you had never met a metal frontman that wasn't a raging bitch.
However, despite your sourness in the singer’s direction, you couldn’t help but feel the loss considering he was incredibly good looking. Perfect eyes, sharp features, and a voice deep enough to make any sensible person weak in the knees were not a mix of factors that were making this easy on you. You were only simply an overly-horny young adult, after all.
“I heard that he’s like, one of those prodigies where it makes your brain want to explode talking to him.” Your band mate, the guitarist, clearly noticed that you were watching Ville (who had since disappeared), and leaned in closer to you as she motioned in Ville’s previous general direction. “He was totally checking you out.”
“The only thing he said to me was that he doesn’t fuck groupies, so yeah. Brain definitely exploded.” You replied uninterestedly, choosing to brush past your bandmate’s bewildered look at your response in favor of just falling back in the grass where you were sitting. “I’m not trying it. I can’t take any more pretentious music prodigies.”
“But he’s so hot. Have you seen him preforming?” As she delved into a detailed description of Ville’s set that she’d trekked up the hill to watch, you focused your attention mostly on staring miserably towards the staff tent, where you’d watched Ville disappear a few minutes before. You weren’t totally sure as to what was causing you to focus on him for such a long period of time, but somehow your eyes just seemed to keep finding their way back.
And low and behold, when you spotted him again, he was coming out of the side of the staff tent with a six pack in each hand. Score.
“Oh my god, is he actually bringing you the beer?” The guitarist had overheard you ask Ville if he could use his main talent privileges to hook the rest of you up with some beer, and you saw her turn to watch Ville alongside you with her jaw dropped as he paused to slam one of the six packs into one of his bandmates’ lap. You rolled your eyes.
“I guess.” Okay. So maybe you were biting back a slight grin through your scowl, but she wasn’t looking at you anyway. Ville, however, was looking at you, and you felt your heart jump a little bit despite your best intentions when his startling green irises connected with yours. So he had brought you beer. Huh. You quickly looked to your bandmate. “Don’t say anything.”
“Hope English beer entices you.” Those words were uttered past Ville’s lips and through a thick cloud of smoke as he came up to where your band was sitting together, holding out the six pack with a mostly uninterested look on his face the entire time.
“Thank you.” As your hand almost brushed his, you noticed a scar on his wedding ring finger that looked shockingly similar to if someone were to use their finger as an ashtray, but you looked away as you picked out a bottle once the pack was in your lap and then held it up. “Do you have a bottle opener, by chance?”
“Fuck. There uh, there might be one in Mige’s bag over there.” Ville mentally slapped himself for having forgotten a way to open her bottle, knowing that she probably wouldn’t have appreciated his foolproof method of just smashing the neck of the bottle on the nearest solid surface. He mentally slapped himself once more when he saw her cast a wary look in the direction of his friends, quickly shooting to give her another option. “I’ll get it for you.”
However, just as he turned to walk away from where he could clearly see the rest of her band watching him with knowing, amused looks on their stupid faces, he heard shoes scuffing the grass, and he glanced back to see her right next to him. Shit.
“Are you guys going to talk about my tits while I’m right there, too?” She asked conversationally as she fell in step next to him, casting a critical look in his direction as she called him out clear as day. Ville resisted the urge to wince viscerally.
“Um, you heard that wrong. That’s not—we weren’t talking about you.” He saved himself lamely, not missing her skeptical look as she continued to side-eye him. He didn’t know why the hell he was stuttering like a fucking idiot, but it wasn’t going away no matter how many times he cleared his throat. He had a feeling that if her fingers even brushed his arm at this point, his head was going to explode.
“You don’t fuck groupies, and you were the only one not talking about my tits? You deserve a medal.” Her tone was more than sour, and Ville sighed miserably at the realization that he had probably fucked this whole thing up. Here was his dream girl, who had a metal attitude fiery enough to make him weak in the knees and the looks to go with it, and she obviously didn’t like him. His level of game was astounding.
“Yeah. Guess I do.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t totally helping his case, but his snarky attitude was a hard habit to break. And, to give himself some credit, Ville realized what a douchey thing that was to say as soon as it was out of his mouth. Y/n’s nose wrinkled, and she stopped right then and there in the middle of the grounds between Ville’s band and her own. He stopped with her, thankful for the fact that his long hair covered where his ears were burning with embarrassment. Never once in his life had he done so badly in the flirting department. “Uh, I mean—“
“You realize you’re kind of a dick, right? Why’d you get me the beer if you’re just going to be an asshole the whole time?” Y/n was transparent in her annoyance with the way Ville was currently acting, and he had to bite on the very inside of his cheek to avoid falling right at her feet as she snapped on him. “I can open the beer without an opener. Fuck off.”
“I—what?” Despite his knowing that Y/n wasn’t at all receptive to any idea he had tried to give that he was clearly into her, it took him aback when she verbally dismissed him away from her right to his face. He stood there looking like an idiot, and she only stared right back as she lifted up her foot, held the heel of her shoe in one hand, and then slammed the edge of her bottle cap on the hard rubber so that it popped right off and into the grass. And all Ville could think about was how beautiful she was the entire time.
“I never needed an opener. I already know how to open a fucking beer.” Her tone was still scalding as she repeated herself, and as she stood there with an open beer and a disgusted look on her face, it suddenly clicked in Ville’s brain. She had just wanted to talk to him.
Jesus Christ.
He skated a hand over his messy, sweaty hair, trying to collect himself enough to be a well-spoken human being before he finally just let out a large sigh and took a long swig of his beer.
“I’m sorry. I came off like shit.” He started, letting his hand fall back to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck as he glanced to the side to see his shitty friends watching him talk to Y/n like wolves watching their prey. He knew he’d get more than enough teasing for this whole thing later, and he was trying to hold his irritation at the fact off of his features for her sake. “I’m not usually like this. I swear. I’m just fucking…overheated.”
By overheated, he meant mostly his brain and a certain…other part of his body, but she didn’t need to know that. It didn’t look like she really believed him, anyway.
“Shit excuse.” She spoke simply, and her expression had softened a little bit, but there was still a hint of heat to her voice as she did so. He stuttered out a laugh, taking a drag off of his almost-cashed cigarette in an attempt to soothe his rapidly beating heart. Fuck, he felt like a goddamn teenager right now.
“Well it’s not about you, if you’re that worried.” Not only was that a shitty thing to say, but it was also a lie. In a rush to cover himself, he instead fucked it up again, and he immediately watched her recoil slightly at his words. Why was he so fucking bad at this today?
“What does that even mean?” God, at this point Ville wished she would’ve been one of those girls that just threw a drink in his face and slapped him instead of sitting there grilling him. Obviously, he usually fell in love with the ones that grilled him only that much quicker, but that wasn’t the point. And she didn’t give him time to make a point, anyway. “Listen, I don’t know if anyone has ever told you, but you’re not all fucking that. Not every girl that talks to you does it so that she can fuck your brains out.”
In a twisted, Ville-only part of his brain, he was falling in love with her for yelling at him like she was. In the middle of both her friends and his friends, as fate would have it. If heart eyes had been a real thing, Ville never would’ve been able to look at her in the first place without revealing how bad he had it for her.
“That’s not what I—I didn’t mean to—“ God. He could just not get the words to come out like he wanted them to. He snapped his mouth shut in frustration, because he didn’t know how to say ‘I’m being a fucking dick because I want you to kiss me’, then watched with panic as she started to walk away. “Wait! Please…just hold on for a second.”
“You really like the sound of your own voice.” She grumbled, sounding more than sick of him but thankfully pausing and crossing her arms anyway. Once he was sure he had her attention, Ville caved to the swarm of thoughts in his brain. Might as well throw out a last-ditch attempt considering how bad he’d screwed all this up for himself.
“I…” His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it felt as if he couldn’t speak around it, but he knew that he had no other choice. He swallowed. “Let me take you out to dinner. Please. I’m being like this because beautiful women make me a fucking idiot.”
Once the words had all fallen out of his mouth in a shaky, unintelligent swarm, he stood there waiting. He felt as if he may throw up, and the last half-drag off of his cigarette before he dropped it into the grass under his boot only made his heart seem to beat faster against his rib cage.
And then she began to smile.
“You look a little sick.” As if she was in his head and knew that it was only going to make his condition worse, she reached out and held his wrist in her perfect hand before she pressed her fingers gently into his wrist.
She was checking his pulse. Busted.
“I feel a little sick.” He admitted loosely, a sheepish smile passing on his features as he tried to continue to see straight with her touching his hand. She laughed at that, not yet letting his hand go.
“This is cute. You really had me going.” She said lightly, her eyes moving from his pulse to his with a look that told him she was amused by his racing heartbeat. His face went crimson at her calling him cute, because who the hell saw his dark, chronically-unamused expression and call it cute, before he found himself grinning beyond his control.
“Well? Did it work?” He asked, his stomach about dropping right out of his body when she suddenly laced their fingers together and held his hand in hers. Although he was praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would say yes, he was simultaneously wondering how the hell he was going to get through an uninterrupted dinner alone with her when he felt like his life was ending at the mercy of just the slightest of her touches. She bit her lip.
“Hmm…yeah. It worked.” You were beaming, both at the fact that you’d just earned yourself a date with one of the hottest men you’d ever seen and at the fact that the hottest man you’d ever seen was shaky and nervous like a little kid in your mere presence. You felt more than bad about snapping on him now that you knew he just had a case of being a man and trying to express his feelings aloud. “You gonna take me somewhere fancy?”
“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, love.” He seemed to ease slightly once he had your agreement to go out to dinner with him, and his voice found confidence as he shamelessly studied your features right in front of you. “I’d even cook something on the tour bus hot plate if it meant I’d get to see you.”
That made you laugh, and you thanked the fact for the time it allowed you to let your jumping heart settle. Something should’ve been said for the fact that Ville was offering dinner instead of a beer and a shitty fuck like every other rockstar you’d ever met doing the job you did, and you were trying your very hardest not to surround his name in hearts in your mind as he looked at you.
“Date’s on, Valo.” As you agreed, he made a whole dramatic show of sticking his hand out and forcing you to shake it, but you were laughing the whole time. You were mentally picturing yourself jumping his tall frame right then and there, but you instead let your hand linger in his for a suspicious amount of time before you pulled out of the handshake. “Until then, I’m going to keep checking you out across the yard, deal?”
“Deal.” Ville was relaxed and smiling now as the both of you talked, so as you made your exit, you felt no qualms about leaning up and pressing a kiss right to his warm cheek.
“See you tonight.” Your lips brushed against his cheek as you spoke quietly in his ear, as you bit back a grin as you heard him gasp just slightly. When you broke away from him, his eyes were already dragging over your figure as you turned away.
“See you tonight.” And suddenly Ville really needed some alone time in a room with a door that locked.
#ville valo#ville valo fic#ville valo x reader#ville hermanni valo#HIM#his infernal majesty#mige amour#emerson burton#gas lipstick#linde lindstrom#jackass#jackass mtv#jackass imagine#jackass movie
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AAAAA I have a request for the event:D
How about hair care(?) Night with chigiri, aryu, anri, and if possible, hiori?:D and ofc the assistants are there as well!! It's just a night where we all share tips of how to take good care of their hair, play games, gossip (mmm I love gossiping), while treating their hair? If you get what I mean<3
Could totally see chigiri with a towel around his head and goes "did you know reo came back to nagi" and the room is just full of gasps😭
THIS SOUNDS LIKE SO MUCH FUN AAA THANK YOU ANON!!
Requests open! - event list - event introduction
Tags: gn!reader, mostly silly goofy stuff, not proofread I was lazy
Event sypnosis: you, Claire (@deerangle3 ) and Mao (me) are assistants in the Neo Egoist League
Girls night! With the boys
-prior to the entire thing, Aryu wrote an entire list of which products you and the other assistants had to buy
-it's a bit of an odd combination, but you really didn't know who to invite to this. But they're all rather calm people, so everyone gets along!
-Mao has a bit of lesbian panic when Anri touches her hair
-Aryu has a little fangirl moment when he gets to touch Chigiri's hair
-Claire does NOT hesitate to say the vilest, deranged, insane things you have ever heard. But it always makes you burst out in laughter
-A LOT of platonic flirting throughout the entire night. Especially between Mao and Aryu
-besides the platonic flirting, a lot of compliments!!! Most of them are from Aryu as well
-you, Claire and Hiori talk about your favourite video games! But that quickly gets interrupted when Chigiri is like "By the way guys, did you hear Reo and Nagi-" and EVERYONE in the room gasps
-Chigiri tells you everything he knows. And that's how everything turned into a gossip night
-Aryu probably tells a lot about what it was like to be teammates and roommates with Rin during the second selection, so then everyone starts gossiping about Rin
-also, Aryu can't help but complain about Lorenzo's hair. BECAUSE THAT SHIT GREASY AF
-Hiori is mostly silent, but then Claire mentions Kaiser and suddenly Hiori goes on a rant about him for five minutes without a break. That obviously leads the conversation into gossiping about Kaiser, Ness and Isagi. You make jokes about them being a weird love triangle
-you guys made a tierlist on how babygirl the Blue Lock players are (Barou is on the top, Igaguri at the bottom)
-you forget about the time, so at some point, Ego knocks at the door and when he enters the room, it's one of the most confusing things he's ever seen
-Claire half-jokingly asks if he wants to join (of course he doesn't)
-when Ego leaves again, Anri starts talking about the work she always has to do for Ego. Everyone agrees that Ego is a manchild who can't take care of himself (Mao's father complex is (not so secretly) triggered by Ego but she's all in on joking about him)
-Anri wants to know what working with the coaches is like, so you, Claire and Mao tell every story you've got in mind. Like that one time Snuffy heard you and Claire calling Barou and Lorenzo babygirl? Or that one time Mao (purposely) called Lavinho "dad" and had to play it off as a joke? Dropping all of those stories to the group lets go
-at some point, the gossiping somehow turns into deeptalk. That doesn't last too long because everyone has to return to their rooms
-it was a very fun night!! Something you're definitely going to repeat if given the chance
#bllk#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#yo hiori#yoh hiori#hiori x reader#hiori x you#anri teieri#anri teieri x reader#anri x reader#ego jinpachi#jinpachi ego#aryu jyubei#jyubei aryu#aryu x reader#aryu x you#jyubei aryu x reader#jyubei aryu x you#yo hiori x reader#chigiri hyoma#hyoma chigiri#chigiri x you#chigiri x reader#blue lock chigiri#blue lock headcanons#bllk headcanons#bllk scenarios
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important message: if you're a Twitter user, please hop on over to Bluesky 💙
as you may know, Elon is making yet another fuck-stupid decision: to alter Twitter's block feature, allowing people you've blocked to still not be able to reply to/interact with your posts, but they can see what you've posted. obviously this is a horrible, terrifying idea, and possibly the nail in the coffin for a lot of people who've been growing increasingly frustrated, angered and upset with the way Twitter is as a social media. Bluesky is an open-network Twitter alternative which is very similar to Twitter, but without an engagement-based algorithm: the only algorithms at play are ones you have control over, by voting to see more or less of posts. it has a Tumblr-like tagging system and doesn't shove unrelated, rage-baiting content into your face: you can actually search the tags properly, including what people have tagged on their own account.
i'm one of those people who has been vocal about how bad Twitter has been for my mental health. every day, despite my efforts to make it a lovely, fun place to be, i'd still get posts talking about horrible, untagged, triggering topics, whether that be accusations of abuse or photographs of individuals who've been severely harmed or killed. it was pushing me towards a breakdown. i conducted an experiment to see how long it took scrolling down my Twitter feed to see something that made me angry, upset, or anxious, and every time, it was within ten minutes. i've been wanting to leave Twitter for so long, but didn't feel there was another option besides here. now, there is. Bluesky has gained half a million people in the last day, and that number keeps going up. people are realising what an absolute fucking hellscape Twitter has become, and how sick it's been making everyone. on Twitter, nothing is private, or sacred: everyone is furious and upset and paranoid all of the time, and you aren't allowed to escape it. you physically can't. and that is not healthy or normal. i have not heard a single favourable thing about Twitter in two years. every conversation i have with someone about it, is always, 'i wish i could quit Twitter because it's making me sick, but it's really hard.'
so far, Bluesky has been like a breath of fresh air. it feels so...unburdened. the utter lack of charged, political, aggressive tweets has me feeling off-balance. all i'm seeing is lovely art from friends, and silly posts about how much nicer it is there!! yes, Bluesky is early days and it doesn't have as many bells and whistles as Twitter, but my God the people behind it are listening to its userbase. it is a functional, clean, relaxed type of social media that i think so, so many of you would benefit from joining. so please...if you've been feeling exhausted and infuriated by the standard Musk-era Twitter has set for social media, give Bluesky a shot. you can use the Sky Follower Bridge extension to find all your pals from Twitter who are already on Bluesky! and if you want to give me a follow, i'm @starleska.bsky.social - i'd love to see you there 🥰
#for real. Bluesky feels like a dream right now. i cannot BELIEVE this is what we could have had all this time#i hope that as more folks jump ship from Twitter we all start to remember what social media can be like when it's not driven by rage#bluesky#twitter#x#starleskatalks#long post
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