#do i recommment it? no
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For anyone wanting to get back together with an ex:
The period between November 21st to December 5th will have a Venus-South Node conjunction which is very plesant for reconnection, focus on past relationships, giving an old relationship another chance. However it will be making a square to Pluto so if the relationship was previously unhealthy it could lead to more damage. Proceed with caution
#do i recommment it? no#proceed with caution#astrology#south node#venus#romance#zodiac signs#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces
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Will the removed songs get replacements do you think (like, recommissioned) or is it too late for that?
They didn’t say anything about recommissioning donketsu, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they did, mainly out of fairness to Rui lol. It was a 2dmv so it’s not like they need to throw away loads of resources on remaking a 3dmv or anything either.
#asks#if they do it will probably take a while. like over a year a while.#so I wouldn’t get excited because they might decide it’s not worth it#they’ll probably say something about whether or not they will recomm it eventually. and if they don’t then assume it’s a no.
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so. who are we thinking for 4th anni commission.
(joke answer is giga again) (ACTUALLY A JOKE THIS TIME SEGA. SEGA LISTEN TO ME. PLEASE.)
#it tends to be a big producer doing them and from deco/jin we can possibly assume a recomm?#so my first thought is like. pinocchiop. but that may be because i like pinocchiop#OR ayase. idk if that's possible considering cinema was a collab thing but#ayase anni comm. it would slap. i know it would#it's also very interesting to me that. the last few years the 2dmvs have shown moments from each character's focus events#and nene. has not had one. so what on earth are they doing with her. the movie event??#idk. much about the popularity of producers i'm just going off of who was very early on and who makes sense from there#(it probably won't be giga anyway since he's reserved for vbs. and the reason he got kohane5 was because it was The Big Event)#(so having the producer for their untitled song do it made sense. and it was a great idea ily ultra c)#idk what this tangent is. i just want to hear other people's predictions#bagel's rambles
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🍉🇵🇸 eSims for Gaza masterpost 🇵🇸🍉
Which eSims are currently being called for?
Connecting Humanity is calling for:
Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan): code NOMADCNG
Simly (“Palestine” plan)
Gaza Online is calling for:
Holafly (“Israel” and “Egypt” plans): code HOLACNG
Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan): code NOMADCNG (can now be used multiple times from the same email)
Airalo (“Middle East and North Africa” plan)
Sparks (“Israel” plan)
Numero (“Egypt” plan)
For Connecting Humanity: if you sent an eSim more than two weeks ago and it is still valid and not yet activated, reply to the email in which you originally sent the eSim. To determine whether the eSim is still valid, scan the QR code with a smartphone; tap the yellow button that reads “Cellular plan”; when a screen comes up reading “Activate eSIM,” click the button that says “Continue.” If a message comes up reading “eSIM Cannot Be Added: This code is no longer valid. Contact your carrier for more information,” the eSim is activated, expired, or had an error in installation, and should not be sent. It is very important not to re-send invalid eSims, since people may walk several kilometers to access wifi to connect their eSims only to find out that they cannot be activated.
If a screen appears reading “Activate eSIM: An eSIM is ready to be activated” with a button asking you to “Continue,” do not click “Continue” to activate the eSim on your phone; exit out of the screen and reply to the email containing that QR code.
Be sure you're looking at the original post, as this will be continually updated. Any new instructions about replying to emails for specific types of unactivated plans will also appear here.
Check the notes of blackpearlblasts's eSim post, as well as fairuzfan's 'esim' tag, for referral and discount codes.
How do I purchase an eSim?
If you cannot download an app or manage an eSim yourself, send funds to Crips for eSims for Gaza (Visa; Mastercard; Paypal; AmEx; Canadian e-transfer), or to me (venmo @gothhabiba; paypal.me/Najia; cash app $NajiaK, with note “esims��� or similar; check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased.)
You can purchase an eSim yourself using a mobile phone app, or on a desktop computer (with the exception of Simly, which does not have a desktop site). See this screenreader-accessible guide to purchasing an eSim through each of the five services that the Connecting Humanity team is calling for (Simly, Nomad, Mogo, Holafly, and Airalo).
Send a screenshot of the plan's QR code to [email protected]. Be sure to include the app used, the word "esim," the type of plan (when an app has more than one, aka "regional Middle East" versus "Palestine"), and the amount of data or time on the plan, in the subject line or body of your email.
Message me if you have any questions or if you need help purchasing an eSim through one of these apps.
If you’re going to be purchasing many eSims at once, see Jane Shi’s list of tips.
Which app should I use?
Try to buy an eSim from one of the apps that the team is currently calling for (see above).
If the team is calling for multiple apps:
Nomad is best in terms of data price, app navigability, and ability to top up when they are near expiry; but eSims must be stayed on top of, as you cannot top them up once the data has completely run out. Go into the app settings and make sure your "data usage" notifcations are turned on.
Simly Middle East plans cannot be topped up; Simly Palestine ones can. Unlike with Nomad, data can be topped up once it has completely run out.
Holafly has the most expensive data, and top-ups don't seem to work.
Mogo has the worst user interface in my opinion. It is difficult or impossible to see plan activation and usage.
How much data should I purchase?
Mirna el-Helbawi has been told that large families may all rely on the same plan for data (by setting up a hotspot). Some recipients of eSim plans may also be using them to upload video.
For those reasons I would recommend getting the largest plan you can afford for plans which cannot be topped up: namely, Simly "Middle East" plans, and Holafly plans (they say you can top them up, but I haven't heard of anyone who has gotten it to work yet).
For all other plans, get a relatively small amount of data (1-3 GB, a 3-day plan, etc.), and top up the plan with more data once it is activated. Go into the app’s settings and make sure low-data notifications are on, because a 1-GB eSIM can expire very quickly.
Is there anything else I need to do?
Check back regularly to see if the plan has been activated. Once it's been activated, check once a day to see if data is still being used, and how close the eSim is to running out of data or to expiring; make sure your notifications are on.
If the eSim hasn't been activated after three weeks or so, reply to the original email that you sent to Gaza eSims containing the QR code for that plan.
If you purchased the eSim through an app which has a policy of starting the countdown to auto-expiry a certain amount of time after the purchase of the eSim, rather than only upon activation (Nomad does this), then also reply to your original e-mail once you're within a few days of this date. If you're within 12 hours of that date, contact customer service and ask for a credit (not a refund) and use it to purchase and send another eSim.
How can I tell if my plan has been activated? How do I top up a plan?
The Connecting Humanity team recommends keeping your eSims topped up once they have been activated.
See this guide on how to tell if your plan has been activated, how to top up plans, and (for Nomad) how to tell when the auto-expiry will start. Keep topping up the eSim for as long as the data usage keeps ticking up. This keeps a person or family connected for longer, without the Connecting Humanity team having to go through another process of installing a new eSim.
If the data usage hasn't changed in a week or so, allow the plan to expire and purchase another one.
What if I can't afford a larger plan, or don't have time or money to keep topping up an eSim?
I have set up a pool of funds out of which to buy and top up eSims, which you can contribute to by sending funds to my venmo (@gothhabiba), PayPal (paypal.me/Najia), or cash app ($NajiaK) (with note “esims” or similar). Check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased, which plans are active, and how much data they've used.
Crips for eSims for Gaza also has a donation pool to purchase eSims and top them up.
Gaza Online (run by alumni of Gaza Sky Geeks) accepts monetary donations to purchase eSims as needed.
What if my eSim has not been activated, even after I replied to my email?
Make sure that the QR code you sent was a clear screenshot, and not a photo of a screen; and that you didn’t install the eSim on your own phone by scanning the QR code or clicking “install automatically."
Possible reasons for an eSim not having been activated include: it was given to a journalist as a back-up in case the plan they had activated expired or ran out of data; there was an error during installation or activation and the eSim could no longer be used; the eSim was installed, but not activated, and then Israeli bombings destroyed the phone, or forced someone to leave it behind.
An eSim that was sent but couldn’t be used is still part of an important effort and learning curve. Errors in installation, for example, are happening less often than they were in the beginning of the project.
Why should I purchase an eSim? Is there any proof that they work?
Israel is imposing near-constant communications blackouts on Gaza. The majority of the news that you are seeing come from Gaza is coming from people who are connected via eSim.
eSims also connect people to news. People are able to videochat with their family for the first time in months, to learn that their family members are still alive, to see their newborn children for the first time, and more, thanks to eSims.
Some of this sharing of news saves lives, as people have been able to flee or avoid areas under bombardment, or learn that they are on evacuation lists.
Why are different plans called for at different times?
Different eSims work in different areas of the Gaza Strip (and Egypt, where many refugees currently are). The team tries to keep a stockpile of each type of sim on hand.
Is there anything else I can do to help?
There is an urgent need for more eSims. Print out these posters and place them on bulletin boards, in local businesses, on telephone poles, or wherever people are likely to see them. Print out these foldable brochures to inform people about the initiative and distribute them at protests, cafes and restaurants, &c. Also feel free to make your own brochures using the wording from this post.
The Connecting Humanity team is very busy connecting people to eSims and don't often have time to answer questions. Check a few of Mirna El Helbawi's most recent tweets and see if anyone has commented with any questions that you can answer with the information in this post.
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Il Ballo del Doge
Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU (threesome)
Summary: At the most exclusive event during Carnevale di Venezia, you find yourself sat between two irresistible, handsome brothers…
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, no incest. Modern AU with Regency masquerade roleplay. Sexual acts with strangers. Very light dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, praise kink, frottage, handjob through clothing. Mentions of cunnilingus, blow jobs, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, sex in front of a crowd.
Word Count: 3.7k
Author's note: An exercise to warm up my writing muse that spiralled into a dirty-talking threesome 🤷♀️😬 This is modern AU with the boys dressed in Regency masquerade ball garb. Fic title is the name of the most exclusive ball during Carnival. Thanks to @colettebronte for quickly wading through this utter filth. Err enjoy 🧡
Venice.
Carnivale.
A masquerade ball ripped from the pages of history - an opulent smorgasbord of cabaret, circus and epicurean feast, held in a sprawling Venetian palazzo. You are stunned as you arrive; grand architecture ablaze with countless fire torches, jugglers and semi-nude performers under heavy garlands of flowers and vines while champagne overflows into towers of coupe glasses: a modern bacchanalian celebration, a luxurious escape for the rich and connected.
You have saved for years to be here - a once-in-a-lifetime trip. This ball is one night of fantasy and sensual indulgence. Detached from reality, you are plunged into another world behind a Columbina demi mask and elaborate costume picked from an atelier.
So when you find yourself sitting for the banquet between two tall, broad-shouldered, strong-jawed men with aristocratic British accents a few hours into the event, it feels enthralling to flirt with them both. The over-the-top theatricality of the setting and the masks you all wear lend an air of anonymity that makes you unusually daring. They are dressed sharply in full Regency garb, a cut that emphasises their appealing physicality. One of them leans in close as you finish the final course of the night; the meal has been a perfect symphony of flavour building upon the last dish.
“Pray tell, my fair lady, what do you wish for tonight?”
“A night I will never forget.”
Your response is truthful but intentionally enigmatic, craning to whisper into his neck, inhaling his delicious, unique, custom-blended aftershave.
“May I assist with that?” He proposes, intent evident from the tone he invokes.
“Perhaps….” You coquette, revelling in the delicious array of possibilities before throwing down a daring gauntlet: “Can you promise to be memorable?”
He huffs a throaty laugh.
“I most certainly hope I can. But safety in numbers may be most prudent to ensure it. Perhaps my brother can assist in such endeavours?”
He nods to the man sitting on your other side, who turns towards you, smile crooked under his demi mask.
“I am seated between two brothers?!”
“A Viscount and a renowned artist, no less,” the first man crows, a self-assurance there that speaks volumes to the veracity of his claim. And you can well believe it. Events such as this exclusive ball are the playground of the elite, after all.
“Which of you is the Viscount, and who is the artist?” You query, your gaze moving from one to the other and back again.
The other man leans in. “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? And where is the fun in that?” He hums, his breath ghosting through the tendrils of hair around the ribbon ties of your mask.
“I am Ant, and my brother here is Ben,” the first man explains, “and that is all you need to know.”
You offer your name before tilting your chin to the stage before you. “The evening's entertainment is about to recommence, though, gentlemen.”
“You will not need to miss a thing,” Ben answers blithely. “We can give you an experience like no other without you even having to leave the very chair you sit in.”
You can’t help the bubble of sceptical laughter at that bold statement. “How?”
“We will talk you through pleasure,” Ant intones, his voice dripping with a confidence that is skating the edges of arrogance. “We will not even need to touch you. In fact, I rather like the onus that we will not.”
You pull an incredulous face. “I’d like to see you try…”
“Oh, my fair lady, that attitude is just a red rag to the proverbial bull,” Ant cautions, voice like smooth velvet sliding over your skin.
Part of you wants to scoff and walk away, part of you wants to be stubborn and prove them wrong, but the biggest part of you, from your neck downwards really, wants them to do just that. Bring you pleasure. Here in public. In this loud, raucous, decadent room filled with hundreds of people.
“Go right ahead gentlemen,” you challenge, your tongue deciding for you as you raise an eyebrow to them each in turn.
Ant reaches around behind him and produces a long, black, polished walking cane. “Fortuitously, this came as a part of my costume,” he offers before pausing a beat to employ a clipped, brusque tone: “Open your legs.”
To your own astonishment, you obey reflexively. With a smirk, Ant slides the cane between your legs, still covered in voluminous skirt layers. He hooks its tip through the foot rung in your chair, then leans its ornate filigree round handle against the dining table in front of you. He rearranges the heavy tablecloth over it and around your lap to completely conceal the cane’s presence.
“Something for you to pleasure yourself against, subtly, of course,” Ant breezes as your head whips to look at him, startled by his matter-of-fact suggestion.
“Do not concern yourself,” Ben reassures. “There is far too much noise and distraction in this vast room for others to know or frankly care. Their attention will also be diverted to the stage and the performers. That is, if they are not themselves being pleasured. There are as many people to be found under these tables as people sitting around them, especially by the end of the night,” his opinion sounding very much based on experience rather than conjecture.
“Shuffle forward in your chair,” Ant encourages, and again you find yourself doing his bidding. The many layers of your costume scrunch between your legs as you close your thighs around the thin cane, a throb already in your silken underwear at how daring this is, allowing two virtual strangers to do this to you.
“Perfect,” Ben compliments just as the music pipes up loudly and a troupe of dancers take to the stage.
Ant places two napkins on the table before you.
“If either of us says or does something that you do not like, pick up the serviette closest to that person, and we shall desist,” he explains, a surge of pleasure that you are being given all the power to direct their behaviour.
“Men of honour,” you comment, impressed, as both men subtly shift their chairs closer, turning into your body slightly.
“We are gentlemen.”
“It is a privilege for us to do this.”
A spike of lust races through you at their dulcet tones, so close up now.
“And what should I do if I like what you are doing? For you not to desist?”
You feel more than see the matching smiles on either side of your face.
“Oh, believe me, we shall know…” Ben chuckles richly, “and we will keep doing so until you are satisfied.”
Something in that smoky promise makes your pulse all over, and you swallow heavily, a flush creeping over you at their proximity. You can tell no one is paying the three of you any heed, though, with all attention around you glued to the magnificent performers.
“You may touch us anywhere you wish,” Ant tempts, knowing your eyes have flitted down to the fit of their costumes a few times already, expensive wool wrapped tight around shapely thighs.
“But it doesn’t matter how much you beg; we shall not touch you,” Ben adds teasingly.
You bite your lip, already squirming in your cushioned seat. The tautness of the fabric between your legs due to the cane there has your clit swelling.
“Now, I rather suspect this fair lady likes a mental picture to be painted…” Ben begins.
“I think you might be right, brother,” Ant concurs. " You are the expert in such matters, after all.”
“So you must be the Viscount…” you crow, almost triumphant, turning fractionally towards Ant.
“Well, aren't you the clever girl?” he hums; that choice of words has a curl of heat unfurling in your gut.
“Of course she is,” Ben cuts in. “If there is one thing we can tell, it’s that you are an independent, smart woman. Who else would travel to Venice and attend such an event all alone? And yet… and yet…. secretly what you crave, what you would never admit to, is just how wet it gets you to be praised and told you are such a good girl, hmmm?”
You exhale shakily, slightly unnerved that he has been able to hit the bullseye so readily but so thrilled for the endless delicious prospects this could portend.
“But how good of a girl can she really be when what she most wants is for us to fuck her right here in public?” Ant piles in; his use of that phrase has you inhaling sharply, taken aback at how quickly it has escalated.
“Don't pretend you don't want that,” Ben clucks. “Your perfect little clit is throbbing right now at the idea, isn't it? Picturing these crowds of people watching, salivating and wishing it were them inside you. Watching as you claw at this table and take us both in turn….”
You are indeed clutching the side of the table already, nails digging into the wood through the cloth, breath stolen by just how explicit they are being. And yet, as promised, they do not lay a finger on you except the press of their clothed thighs against yours where they surround you on both sides. You rock further forward in your chair without even realising, needing to feel that hard rod against your slit, the relief that pushing yourself against it will bring.
“I rather think you would demand our tongues first, though,” Ant remarks casually.
“Oh, I wouldn't doubt it,” Ben agrees. “For us to throw your legs over our shoulders and feast upon you. Run our tongues over and over until you are shivering and pulling our hair, directing us just where you want us. I suspect you are the type who wants to taste yourself in the mouth of those who pleasure you. For them to kiss you with their tongue thick with your arousal, face glazed with your juices.”
You are breathing ragged, honestly spellbound by their ability.
“And I bet you taste delicious. Like ripe berries, sweet but tart,” Ant contends. “A flavour that bursts on the tongue like a fine wine.”
He reaches for his glass and waits for you to watch him take an indulgent sip, the bob of his Adam’s Apple as he swallows. But he allows a drop to escape around the corner of his mouth dribbling a line that you track covetously, tongue feeling heavy, wanting to lick it from his hint of chin stubble.
“Remember, you can touch. That includes with your tongue, sweet girl,” he goads before using the pad of his thumb to wipe away that tempting trickle provocatively.
You can’t help the light moan that escapes your lips, grinding against the pole he has placed between your legs; the spike of pleasure it causes as it crushes your clit has you shuddering.
“That’s it,” Ben gusts. “Treat that swollen little pearl just a little rough. I bet all those layers of fabric are just adding to the exquisite ache….”
His hand lands on the table next to yours, not touching but close enough that you can see how long and shapely his fingers are compared to your own. He swirls his pointer and middle finger slowly on the tablecloth in a circular motion. An intentional tease that you stare at, your hips somehow syncopating with the speed of his movements, imagining that very hand buried between your thighs.
“That’s it,” he repeats, “not too fast, not too slow.”
“Just enough to make you reckless with need,” Ant interjects. “You would do anything we told you to if we got you to that sweet spot, wouldn’t you?”
You nod without even realising it.
“Oh, I know it,” Ant gloats. “I would tease you for so long you forget your own name. Clit so swollen you can’t cross your legs. Begging and pleading for relief…”
These men use words like finely-honed weapons. Each phrase is seemingly expertly designed to take you apart at the seams. Your hands splay out on the table, and you grab each of theirs, clutching the back of their knuckles into your palm as you rub yourself shamelessly.
“You get the prettiest flush when you’re aroused,” Ben whispers, his eyes flitting down to your décolletage. “I wonder how far it goes? Does it keep going all the way to those pretty, puffy lips that are wrapped around that cane right now?”
The way he says it conjures the thought of your mouth wrapped around a cock; in no doubt that both of theirs are likely sizeable.
“I know what you’re thinking of,” Ant murmurs darkly as you keep writhing, a bead of sweat running down your spine into your underwear. “I know you are a dirty little thing who loves to be on your knees as well. I can tell how much you love the power. Having a man vulnerable in your mouth. Their rapt attention begging you to suck a little harder, a little deeper.”
“She loves to tease,” Ben surmises as they lean in closer, both lips dusting the shell of your ear. “Little strands of saliva roping from your lips as you pull off and look up goadingly through your lashes. You love to feel the tremble of thighs under your palms, don’t you? That feeling when your lips are all swollen and your cheeks aching from all that sucking. But most of all, you love to have a man come undone in your mouth. To swallow every drop you have earned…”
You are panting openly, harshly, your mouth filled with saliva as you imagine how tasty they likely are, a sweetness that makes it pleasant, addictive almost. A yearning for either to stand up, unzip right now and offer you their cock to suck upon. All around you, lights swirl, and the music swells louder, obscuring what is happening at this table. The most risqué you have ever behaved, wantonly frottaging yourself as two strangers, albeit handsome refined gentlemen, spout utter filth.
“Tell me how you’d fuck me,” you demand, gasping, rhythmically crushing your throbbing clit, wanting to come so bad your skin itches.
“I’d go first,” Ben huffs, his breathing uneven now too. “You’re already dripping down to your knees from our tongues; you can take me, can’t you, sweet girl?”
Again, you find yourself nodding; your lip darkened from your incisor tooth snagging upon it.
“I think what you might enjoy is being face down,” he rumbles dangerously. “So you can’t see everyone watching you at first. Just hear their shocked but approving noises. Your forehead on this tablecloth as I place a hand on your spine to quell your quivering from behind. Drag your hips over this table and plough right into your weeping little cunt.”
That word is the catalyst. You can no longer hold back. Your hands fly into both of their laps and grab their thighs forcefully, loving the feel of warm, latent muscle as your fingers curl into their quads.
“Oh, you like that…” Ant assesses correctly.
You hiss your assent as Ben continues.
“You are so perfect for me, aren’t you? Such a pretty pussy, all swollen and puffy and soaked as I split you open. I’m not going to go slow because that’s not what you want, is it? You want sharp thrusts, your toes leaving the ground with each snap, pressed hard into the table, your nipples rubbing just a little raw inside your corset. You want your entire body to jerk with each thrust, clit catching the table edge….”
Your responding yes is sibilant, as all around you, the frenzy of entertainment continues, spotlights swirling, performers contorting themselves in a seeming match for your fever.
“You want my hands clamped on your hips, tugging you back into my cock. Curled over you and praising how well you take it and what a good girl you are for me and for letting everyone watch. You feel so divine, squeezing my cock so tight that my eyes roll. Butttt…” he rolls that last letter in his mouth as if a tasty treat, his hand flexing on the table. “My poor sweet thing, just as you are babbling, clawing and moaning so beautifully, drooling onto this cloth right here, I'm going to pull out and leave you wanting, for we are not ready to have you come again. Not yet, my sweet girl. We want you mindless, to build you up so many times over that you are aching. The reward will be so much sweeter for you in the end that way, won't it?”
No one has ever talked to you in such precise, poetic detail before. Your hands grasp their thighs roughly, but they maintain their promise, even as you see the mutinous desire in the flex of their bodies, a muzzled yen to touch you back. It makes you need them more, how much control they can exert despite wanting the opposite. You are shameless in your motions now, pushing yourself towards that high; part of you wishes to plunge your fingers into yourself, and part of you wants to see if you can orgasm untouched, coming undone with just their words and friction.
“Don't stop,” Ant gasps. “Make yourself come, sweet girl.”
“I want to grab both of your cocks,” you confess rapidly, the truth tumbling from your lips as you ratchet higher.
“Do it…” Ant dares you, as out the corner of your eye you can see his are glittering darkly, pupils blown.
They both growl as you twist your wrists and slide your hands greedily up their laps, shamelessly palming their erections, straining against their trousers under the table. The heat and mass of them both has your pussy quivering, knowing from this touch alone just how satisfied you would be to feel either or, ideally, both of them fuck you. Their grip on the table has their knuckles turning white as Ant speaks anew, a tinge of desperation in his words that has you gleeful.
“My brother has had a little of his fun; now it's my turn. And I think you are ready to see all those gathered around you, even those onstage gazing down upon you. So I am going to flip you over, my sweet girl. Place your ankles upon my shoulders, that drenched little slit ruining my trousers before I tug open my fly and take you too. How prettily you howl my name as I slide into you. This sturdy table is going to squeak, isn't it? You are such a demanding thing, ordering me to fuck you harder, your hands clawing at my jacket, your heels clicking together behind my head. Perhaps my brother needs to be on the other side of the table, holding your shoulders down so all can see. Maybe even ripping open your dress, your beautiful breasts bouncing with each thrust I take, my good girl. You want this and so much more, don’t you? For me to fuck you endlessly right here, right now….”
And it's true. You yearn for what they promise. For them to bury their tongues between your thighs, for you to be on your knees before them, sucking the very life out of their cocks. For them to throw you onto this same table and fuck you so hard and thoroughly, you leave fingernail marks on the wood. To have the whole crowd watch as you near peak after peak until you are a swollen, fucked-out mess. Craving nothing but more, another orgasm, that mind-blowing pleasure that makes you soar high above as well as stay rooted so deep in your body you feel a weight in your bone that is pure rapture.
And just like that, you are breaking, burying your face into Ant’s neck as you wrap an arm around Ben’s. Shuddering violently as you crest that edge, febrile pleasure breaking over your skin, each cell of your body seeming to snap taut and then relax into waves of bliss, floating somewhere high above the sparkling chandeliers that hang from each beam. Dimly, you hear them murmuring your praises, but it's muffled by the rush of blood in your head. It seems to last forever, jerking and spasming against that cane, wanting instead to feel their weight on top of you, their cocks spurting deep within you as you reach that peak in harmony. When you come back to yourself, you realise your hands are still unconsciously squeezing their cocks through their clothing, and suddenly you snatch your hands from their laps.
“Don’t you dare come,” you snarl, as they groan enchantingly, so close and yet denied at the very last moment.
“Why?” Ant puffs, a vein on his forehead pulsing beguilingly.
“Because I need you to fuck me…” you grit out between your teeth. “Both of you,” you add, addressing Ben, his whole body quaking as you utter it.
Even though your knees feel like jelly, you push back your chair, the cane clattering to the floor and rolling under the table, forgotten, as you stand up and grab their hands, hauling them from their seats. You are uncaring if anyone stares at you, costumes dishevelled and askew, as you march towards the exit. Neither resists as you tug them out of the ballroom, down the long grand stairwell and outside to the gondolas lined up on the dock, ready to ferry people back to their hotels.
“I have one requirement…” you practically bark as you push them both down onto a seat, twisting to name your hotel to the gondolier behind you, his smirk unmistakable.
“Which is…?” Ant prompts, staring up at you as you tower over them, your eyes drawn inexorably to the unmistakable outline still nestled in both of their trousers.
You take a seat on the bench opposite them in the narrow boat. Wordlessly pulling up your layers of skirt and peeling down your ruined underwear, tossing them into the canal as they stare covetously, likely catching a glimpse between your legs before you roll your skirt back down.
“You had both better fucking touch me...” you finally reply.
They throw their heads back and laugh heartily, twisting to look at each other briefly, seeming to communicate silently before their gazes land back on you, almost predatory.
“You can bloody count on it,” they growl in unison.
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i. A late night text
Feelings Are Fatal Masterlist | Masterlists | ii
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader
Words: 5.4k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, fingering, oral sex, alcohol mentioned
It was a single text.
‘What are you doing?’
It was nothing of significance.
‘What are you doing?’
It painted light on your blackened phone in the dead of that Friday night. When you should have been out with friends and not rotting in bed with Netflix pulled up on your laptop and a family-sized pack of Doritos nestled at your side. The city roared with life. The hustle and bustle of busybodies dancing, shouting and singing called so desperately for your attention. The universe begged you to live for once, not for anyone else but for yourself.
‘What are you doing?’
You knew what it meant–the true meaning behind messages sent after dusk and before dawn. They pulled uncomfortably at the muscles in the stomach, forced gooseflesh to pebble the expanse of your arms and raised the hairs on your skin to stand tall. They made you weak, ripped your resolve to shreds and forced the self-preservation you built for yourself to melt.
Regardless of the outcome always being the same, every night, you told yourself, would be the night you’d be strong. You’d put your phone on silent, place it to the side facing down, and recommence a wild evening of trash TV in which you would think nothing of debauchery.
‘What are you doing?’
Ten minutes. It was your max. Ten fucking minutes and the blasted, overpriced hunk of metal was in your hands as you nervously stared at the three dots that seemed to be taunting you, flickering back and forth until another grey bubble burst into light.
‘Case is closed. I’m back home.’
You were better than this; you had enough respect for yourself not to do this. You didn't need to answer someone’s beck and all.
The clattering of words typed out on your phone filled the sorrowful silence.
‘I’m outttttttt at the mo. Gimme 20 and I’ll make my way over.’
The necessary number of Ts needed was one, but it didn't hurt to overplay the whole ‘out on a Friday night’ thing, and it wouldn’t be the first time either of you had liquor running through your systems during one of your nightcaps, even if it was a lie this time. It was a needed lie. The tattered pyjamas you wore and the mess on your head wouldn’t paint the image you wanted in JJ’s mind. Dancing amongst friends and strangers, hot and horny, that was better suited to your dynamic–which, simply put, was emotionless fucking.
Time, it would seem, was not on your side. This was unfortunate because, even if your clothes were to end up on JJ’s floor, you still had to think through what to wear to both give the illusion you were flitting from club to club and impress JJ enough to have her distracted from the fact you were so quick to drop everything and come crawling.
It was exhausting–the need to make her want you more than she supposedly already did, the hollowness that accompanied every late-night visit you paid her, the following mornings you spent in a taxi crying on the way home, smelling the sweetness of her perfume on whatever article of clothing you'd borrowed from her. Most painful of all was knowing she’d never feel the same.
You needed it to stop. This needed to stop.
She was your best friend, for Christ's sake. You were, in plain and simple terms, your best friend’s fucking booty call. Your best friend with whom you were so stupidly and utterly infatuated, it’d been a miracle you hadn’t outright admitted you loved her amid a mind-blowing orgasm—which she had given you several.
All it would take was one text. Your fingers itched to type the words out as you stood over your unmade bed, teeth mindlessly nibbling at your bottom lip.
‘It's over. I can’t do this anymore.’
A single finger hovered over that blue arrow. You’d only have to click send, and all of this would be over. You could go back to pretending you were JJ’s friend, that it didn’t hurt when she was away on a case and most likely sharing a bed with a far more attractive woman than yourself, because needs must and all, that it didn’t affect you that she only looked at you with such fervency when she needed an outlet for her stress and that you most certainly did not want anything more than unembellished platonic love from her.
Your body’s need for her won out with the selection and subsequent deletion of the message.
The only dress available was one far too short for the evening air, and frantically searching for another was not an option when you were already lost in half sets of lingerie. So, you settled, even if it meant risking your legs to hypothermia. Even if it meant wearing a g-string in favour of finishing your makeup because that was the only pair of underwear you could find with a matching bra. It didn’t necessarily aid you in any way that the rightly impatient Uber driver outside was threatening to wake the whole block with a blaring horn.
It was pathetic. You knew it. The driver knew it from the second you tumbled into the car out of breath and dressed like a hooker. Still, he was kind enough to greet you with a grunt and murmur of your name, instead choosing to silently judge you through his rearview mirror and remain silent for the duration of the drive.
The city lights glinted defiantly against the blighting dark. You watched, mesmerised, as street lamps, neon signs, and lone candles swaying in closing restaurants bled into one. They morphed into one big blur until they were slowly replaced by the quiet stirring of TV screens and dwindling dimmed bedroom lights.
The area housing JJ’s apartment was quiet, eerily so. Only the hum of the engine, the distant shrill of a car horn, and the crunch of tyres against asphalt as everything came to a halt could be heard through the dense silence.
Another glare from the rearview mirror afforded you no extra time to prepare for what was to come. Your only comfort was a deep breath and a silent prayer that your emotions wouldn’t step out of line as you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.
Blonde hair greeted you as you exited the stuffy Uber, and immediately, you were pulled into a warm embrace so tight you could smell the familiar scent of JJ’s shampoo–honey and home. You’d missed this. You’d missed her. With hands at your waist eagerly pulling you in, you lost yourself in the feel of the warm body pressed against your front.
Occasions like these kept you coming; you were a scavenger, living off scraps. Pitiful was what it was, yet you couldn’t find the strength not to come running when JJ called. It was easy to pretend that evenings like these meant more than they did, that JJ wanted you more than just for your body, that you wouldn’t meet up with her in a couple of days for a coffee and act like none of this had happened.
When your bodies perfectly slotted against each other outside her apartment complex, your head nestled in her neck, and her lips hovering over your cheek, it was hard to think of yourself as anything other than made for one another. They were the type of thoughts you kept under lock and key, aware but discontent that they’d always exist for you and you alone.
You’d learnt to live that way because you knew your feelings were woven so deep into the fabric of your being that it was hard to imagine a life without them. Somehow, you knew JJ had always been there, rooted so deep in your heart, that having her infinitesimally, compared to how you wanted her, was better than not having her at all—even if it hurt, even if it turned your tears to acid as they burned your cheeks.
“You smell nice,” you mindlessly sighed into the warmth of JJ’s neck. It couldn’t be helped. Slips always happened when she was affectionate.
“You smell like vodka,” She chuckled.
So what if you had a shot or three before racing down to the Uber? After all, you had a lie to sell and were nothing if not committed to the gambit.
“Yes, well, I was out,” You muttered.
Shaking yourself out of your love-fueled daze, you attempted, and subsequently failed, to peel yourself out of JJ’s embrace. Her hands were stellar on your waist, refusing to budge. However, you couldn’t say you minded, not when she slowly walked backwards and spun the both of you so your back was to the wall. A thin smirk lined her rosy lips, and you settled on lightly slapping her chest when she wouldn’t release you in reprimand for her earlier comment.
“But then I got a tempting text from a certain somebody.”
“Pray tell, what was so tempting about this text?”
You reminded yourself why you were here and, more importantly, what you were here for.
“It wasn’t the text itself. It was how wet I got when I realised who it was from,” you replied, running your tongue along your lip.
“Fuck,” JJ growled, her pupils dilating. The release of your waist was quickly remedied by the grip of her hand sliding into yours and the eager jerk of her pulling you through the complex’s doors.
Unlike your own, JJ’s apartment was spacious. Despite there being a certain emptiness in the place, it had character. There was the mustard couch you’d spent many evenings eating ice cream on, binge-watching whatever JJ decided to throw on. There was the vintage coffee table you’d helped pick out and carry back from the local thrift store that had honestly seen better days now that it was marked with one too many wine stains. There were the pictures that dotted stone grey walls bright with happy memories—a couple with the team, some with just the BAU girls and the ones you most treasured, the ones with only the two of you.
In a delicately carved rustic frame was the picture of you and JJ at Sandbridge Beach. She was buried up to the neck in sand and had on her goofy smile, the one that showed all her teeth. You stood proudly above her, plastic shovel in hand, with an equally goofy smile of your own tugging at your lips. You looked happy.
It was packed that day, but after the three-hour drive filled with 2000s tunes and an unhealthy amount of Cheetos that JJ demanded she be fed, you weren’t about to turn back around. She was adamant about that. So you pretended that no one else was at that beach, that the people next to you weren’t rolling their eyes at your childish antics, that the water wasn’t polluted with the masses when JJ lifted you, slinging your legs around her waist and died with laughter as she dunked the both of you under cold salty shores. You were happy.
There was something so bittersweet about staring at these memories built on friendship. The reminder of what your relationship truly was tugged at your chest each time you burst through those apartment doors. Of course, you wouldn't have it the other way. Your place was no better; if anything, it was worse; in the foundations of every nook and cranny, there was a memory of your and JJ’s friendship. No, being here was more manageable. At JJ’s, you could - as you always did - leave in the morning and find solace in your empty bed, find peace in soaking your pillow with tears, relish in the shame of knowing in only a few nights, you’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
“Tell me you weren’t out for long,” JJ groaned from behind you, hands mapping a path down your back, resting on the curve of your ass. You could feel the frustration bubbling in her chest. “Dressed like this.”
You only just about managed to say, “An hour or two,” before the blonde had you turned around, lips turning your brain to mush as she kissed you for the first time that evening. Though sudden, it was entirely welcome, and how could it not have been when she tasted so sweet?
The first time you sampled her was five months prior. It was after you hosted a small gathering at your place, where drinks flowed freely, and laughter was heard from every corner. She stayed that evening when the place wasn’t nearly messy enough to need help. With a bin bag in her hand and conversation light on her tongue, she collected cups and wrappers, wiped surfaces down, and when there was nothing else to do, she crept up behind you and whispered all the sinful things she wanted to do to you the second she saw you in that dress.
Garcia introduced the two of you five years before; for most of those years, you’d pined for JJ, longed for her, and loved her. It started small, like falling in love with how she looked after Garcia. Then, when the two of you began to spend more time alone, it was the way her eyes shone under low lights, the way her hair looked after it was windswept and slightly knotted.
After that night, it was the smell she left on your pillow, the tingling she left between your legs, and the smile she plastered on your face. Then, as all things go, because happiness was not a thing you got to experience for long, life took it away.
The following day, she was gone. The right side of your bed was empty and cold.
You didn’t think much of that morning. Bursting through Garcia’s door, sitting on her couch and crying your eyes out wasn’t a fond memory. The blonde was kind enough not to pry, kinder to let you stay the day, then night. By the following day, you’d built your walls back up and reminded yourself that what you felt for JJ was one-sided and what she wanted from you would never be what you wanted from her.
“I’ve missed you.”
This. She meant this, surely. She’d missed the sex. Not you, never you. Telling yourself that was supposed to help, yet it only intensified the sting of longing caged within your chest.
When JJ’s tongue pushed eagerly into your mouth, the small squeak that echoed in your throat morphed into a liquid moan, and you thought nothing more of her admission. If you did, with most things regarding JJ, it’d have driven you crazy. Instead, you focussed on the fingers skimming down the back of your dress, curling at its hem and delving under. Her touch was feather light at your thigh, and whilst you appreciated her being gentle any other time, now was not the time.
You didn’t want her to treat you like a glass figurine, like you were something she could break, because she’s already broken you, and her light touches and soft kisses would never be enough to put you back together.
No. Only crushing you over and over with an iron fist and sex-addled savagery would compensate.
With one hand firmly placed on JJ’s shoulder, you moved the other to her questing fingers. Tearing them away from their tender endeavours, you rose them higher and higher till they were ghosting over your sex, mere millimetres away from your soaked panties.
“Someone’s in a rush,” JJ laughed, nipping down the length of your throat.
“Well, I assumed I wasn’t summoned here for casual banter.”
“The kitten has claws,” the blonde mumbled, continuing her descent to your neck. There, her pearly teeth nibbled at your thudding pulse point while her fingers remained vexingly still.
“Stop talking.”
Somewhere between dragging JJ out of the longue and into her bedroom, she had managed to unzip your dress and gift it to the corridor floor. You were equal in your endeavours, ridding her of her t-shirt, unbuckling and pulling leather through belt loops. Between all the kissing, it was an impressive yet chaotic sight.
By the time you arrived at the foot of her bed, you both had quite the view, JJ more so.
The look she got in her eyes was something you’d never forget. It was as though she was trying to take every part of you in at once. You were the open spread at an all-you-can-eat buffet, and she didn’t know what to begin with. That look was scorched into the back of your eyes and ingrained into every late-night fantasy. This time, however, it was shadowed by a look of something darker.
“Were you planning on meeting someone?” she asked, taking a small step back and frowning.
“What?”
You looked down, admiring your lingerie set with great pride, until realisation dawned on you. Before coming to JJ’s, you were ‘out’ without knowing where you would end the night. The red lace cladding your breast and sparse over your cunt would have led anyone to believe you wanted to entertain a particular type of company, and whilst any willing participant would have no qualms with seeing you in such a set, the look in JJ’s judgemental eyes told you she was not partial to that thought.
“That is not a night out with the girls' set of underwear.” Her eyes were back to roaming your body, only now the attention seemed more desperate.
“Would you rather I take them off?” You tried to rid the room of tension with a sprinkle of seductive humour. Entertaining the thought she felt she had some claim over you was moronic.
Maybe it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Or perhaps it was. Maybe this was all a game of chess, and she would always remain two steps ahead.
Whatever it was, you knew your part in it was a mere pawn. Your job would always be to heed and obey but put up a bit of a fight, come when called, but don’t let it be known you’re desperate, take and give pleasure, but don’t let any memories of it fester inside you and bring up feelings of true significance.
At the latter, you’d failed - even if love blossomed in your heart years ago - but you could do the rest.
“Or I could go put my dress back on. If the image isn’t to your liking?” You look over her shoulder into the corridor, where your dress lay in wait.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, voice low and gravelly, fingers pinching your chin to force your gaze back to her.
Her eyes were two glaziers, flecks of grey pebbling her irises like raindrops on a sheet of water. Surely, you committed a heinous crime in a previous life, and this was your penance–to be tortured over and over again by your own heart, to kiss this beautiful and kind woman, have opened the depths of your soul to her, and have her see nothing but a body in which she could use to decompress and view as nothing more than a friend come morning.
These evenings, blanketed by the cover of night and veiled under the guise of necessity, would be the most you would ever have of her. And, yes, it was selfish to take and take, trick her into believing you were using her in the same way she was using you, but your punishment came swiftly. It was delivered to you on a tray of coal the mornings after, and time and time again, you invited the sordid torment into your home with an enveloping hug and salty tears.
Fingers dipping into your panties drew your attention away from the tempests of JJ’s eyes, and through the lump in your throat came a gasp, morphing into a moan when JJ slid down to your sex.
“You weren’t kidding about how wet you got.” JJ tilted your head ever so slightly to the side to nibble at your earlobe, sending a single electric current running down your spine. It was joined shortly by a second when the blonde sucked her shimmering fingers to her mouth.
“When have I ever lied to you?” You asked, somewhat winded. Except a couple of minutes ago, alongside every time I pretend not to hold you in my heart. “This is what you do to me.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
While JJ was momentarily distracted by your admission, you took the opportunity to level your state of undress. Dropping to your knees, you tugged her trousers down and over her ankles, pressing kisses into the meat of her thighs. She showed no reservation or aversion. If anything, her fingers threading through your hair was a cue to offer her more from your auspicious position.
And offer, you did.
Moving her underwear to the side, you breathed in the sugared scent of her and felt saliva gather at the sides of your mouth as plain want turned to ardent need. Somehow, by some miracle, you were allowed to do this—taste the most intimate area of JJ’s body, hear her moan above you and watch the gentle push and pull of her chest grow rapid.
Restraint was not something your nighttime companion liked to exercise, so it came as no shock when she used her sturdy grip to urge you closer. Despite her silent request for more, JJ’s head still jerked back and let out a rather loud ‘oh my god’ when you followed instructions and sucked her clit into your mouth. But her reactions had never previously bothered you, and they weren’t suddenly about to.
You let them guide you.
When her moans became strained and whiny, you knew to slow down. When her left knee twitched ever so slightly, you knew to move a smidge to the right. And when one of her legs hooked over your shoulder, you knew to bury as many fingers as she could take inside her and pump till her throat was raw and cum was dripping down your chin.
“You’re too good at that,” JJ happily sighed, dropping her thigh down from your shoulder and mustering the strength to pull you to your feet.
Happy to taste herself on your tongue, the blonde leaned forward, slotting your lips together and letting loose a contented hum. You matched her vocal bliss, growing nosier with the removal of your bra and the playful tweaking of your nipples. Her touch was addictive, and your hips pledged to reveal as much. They slaved away, trying to locate anything to grind down on, first the sticky material of your ruined panties, then, with great relief, the toned length of JJ’s thigh.
The inner turmoil settled down, quieted by the hastening pumping of your heart. You welcomed the fall onto JJ’s bed with a mere squeak and watched enamoured as she rid herself of her bra and underwear, then moved onto the mere strip of material keeping her from seeing you fully and gloriously bare.
You smirked at the wolfish glint in JJ’s eyes, the slight parting of her lips as she let out a shaky breath and spread your legs–an invitation to fill the vacant space with her body.
It seemed that JJ had other plans. In one swooping move, she had you flipped on your stomach, manoeuvring your body till your cheek was pressed against crumpled sheets, ass raised high in the air, and ankles hanging off the bottom of her bed.
“You’re perfect,” JJ breathlessly whispered, crouching down and using the pads of her thumbs to part your folds. The casualness of voicing such a thought left you dizzy.
Why did she always have to do that? Take your breath away with words alone, and on top of that, act like it meant nothing. It meant something to you. It vexingly meant too much to you. She threw these compliments about, always sounding so sure, so firm in her belief that they were fact and not opinion.
“JJ,” you whined, growing restless with the influx of poignant thoughts, desperate for more than her warm breath hovering over your sex.
“Yes?” she feigned innocence, taunting you with her candied tone.
You grit your teeth, taking a deep breath to alleviate some of the tension growing taunt in your stomach. “I swear to god if you don’t-”
Your own drawn-out cry cut you off. JJ’s tongue was back on you, only now it was consistently moving up and down the length of your pussy, occasionally circling the bundle of your nerves waiting at the apex of your sex. Even if it had only been slightly under a week since you last tumbled under bed sheets with the blonde or two days since you stuck your hand beneath pyjama bottoms and tended to your own needs, you were convinced the releasing tension burrowed deep into your bones had been gathering for not days, but months or years, waiting to be granted this kind of attention.
Her tongue was insistent, steadfast on your clit from the moment she suckled it into her mouth like a starving baby to its mother's tit. She moved feverishly fast, then lulled her pace. The press of her tongue was harsh on you, then so light you barely felt the echo of it on your clit. Over and over, fast then slow, concrete then pillow soft until finally, she had you dribbling between whines and moans, your knuckles white with the force of your hold on bedsheets.
The fiery inferno intensifying deep within your gut was utterly unruly. Its heat burned from your core up to your chest, down to the tips of your toes, which hung precariously off the end of the bed. Every word leaving your mouth was incomprehensible. They came out muffled, embedding themselves deep into crinkled cotton, and honestly, you were thankful. Between your senses leaving your body the moment JJ touched you and the disappearance of any inclination to keep things platonic between you, you knew what you wanted to say, or rather were trying to say, would have thrown a wrench into this delicate dynamic you both shared.
A cry resembling JJ’s name echoed in your ears as she picked up her pace, ceasing her teasing touches and now favouring consistent flicks of her tongue.
Abruptly, she stood up, and you would have vocalised your annoyance had it not been for what she did next. Using the full force of her body, she slotted her fingers in and out of you at what could only be deemed a brutal pace. Each thrust ended with fingertips grazing your g-spot, something the blonde never failed to hit, edging you closer to the summit of your release.
“Touch yourself,” JJ panted from behind you, sounding almost as wrecked as you felt.
You let out a hiss, your nipples so very sensitive as they brushed against cotton sheets in a desperate attempt to work your hand down to your clit. It was an outward struggle to maintain a repetitive pattern, the slip and slide of arousal making it impossible to work the set of nerves for any longer than a few seconds, but your efforts were not in vain.
The flutters of pleasure rolling around in your stomach were hastening, the shuddering of your canal walls around slender fingers was intensifying, and all the while, JJ’s misshaped voice echoed in your ears, becoming more and more muffled.
Pinpricks of light burst behind your eyelids, a fire roared in your stomach, and your hips caved to carnal need, uncontrollably rutting forward and back with the careful aid of JJ’s unoccupied hand.
Your body was being ripped apart. Every inch of you stretched so thin that you were sure this would be when you’d break with ‘Jennifer’ on your tongue and adoration heavy in your heart.
JJ did not let you lose yourself as you plummeted into the fiery pits of your orgasm. Her fingers, still tucked inside your twitching cunt, swept back and forth, hell-bent on prolonging the undulating pleasure coursing through your core. Her lips, pressed against your neck, moved lower to your arched spine where she lay kiss after gentle kiss. And her words, a second ago, hot and demanding, were now kind and coaxing.
She tended to do this–piece you back together without having ever known she tore you apart, often until you were spent and your limbs immobilised. That night was no exception. You gave as good as you got, ignoring the orange and yellow hues painting the horizon outside the window and the cruel reality they brought with them. It was when you could no longer keep your eyes open that you succumbed to the pull of sleep.
—
Most mornings, you’d wake up alone. Whilst it was a depressing reality to some to turn and find your sheets cold, it was what you’d learnt to prefer. There was, of course, merit to opening your eyes and being greeted by the luminous sight of blonde hair and copious amounts of nakedness. The sight would always be welcome, that remained undisputed. It was the urges you quarrelled with in the early hours of dawn that you had an issue with. You’d think that months of sleeping together would teach you some restraint. Alas, whenever you woke up to the sight of JJ, all you wanted to do was curl into her, wake her with soft, affectionate kisses and beg her to make you her signature chocolate chip pancakes.
That wasn’t written into your invisible contract. What was agreed, or what you decided was non-verbally agreed, was that you’d have sex, sometimes you’d stay for the night, and in the event you did, you’d be out of her hair before she started her day, so both of you and JJ were spared from any spontaneous love declarations.
Still, it didn’t make it any easier to remove JJ’s arms from around your waist, to quietly slip out of bed and force yourself not to look back lest you fall right back into her arms.
There was no chance you were returning home in the clothes you’d worn the night before; comfort was always essential for your walk of shame. So, you tip-toed over to JJ’s closet and slowly pulled the doors open. No matter how gentle you were, the hinges refused to allow you a peaceful exit, sending a painful squeak out into the morning quiet.
“Where are you going?” JJ grumbled, and you tried so fucking hard not to fall more in love with her when she did that. When she acted as though it was weird for you to leave before breakfast, like she wanted you to stay. It was helpless; when her droopy eyes locked onto yours, you felt your heart race and your stomach flutter. How could anyone look so perfect, having only just woken up?
“I’ve got a thing,” you muttered, throwing one of her sweatshirts over your head.
“A thing?” She gave you a cautionary look when she once again managed to catch your attention, her disbelief cutting a crease between her eyebrows. “It’s too early for a thing. Come back to bed.”
Why did she have to do that? Force you to break your heart by denying yourself the very thing you’d yearned for since the moment you met her.
“I’m having coffee with Pen.”
She begrudgingly sat up and levelled you with another condescending glare, “At this time?”
“Well, you see,” you said, staring back at JJ unstirred as you pulled on a pair of stolen leggings. “I have to go home and do this thing called having a shower so I don't meet our beloved friend looking and smelling like I spent a great portion of last night between your legs.”
“But-”
You strode over, bending at the hip to cut her off with a chaste kiss, ignoring the pull of your heart to fall back into bed and pick up where you left off last night. For a bit longer, pretend that this was a real relationship where you could kiss the woman you loved whenever and wherever you wanted.
“I’m going now,” you mumbled over her lips, ripping away to grab your phone and walk straight out of her bedroom.
You heard a heavy sigh, the thud of her head defeatedly falling back on a pillow as you clambered out of the apartment, heart tucked under your sleeve, tears stinging the backs of your eyes.
Taglist: @sincerestlove @hot4milfs @chestnutninny @theoneforhobbies @lez-talk1 @obsessedwjill | Click here to be added to the series taglist
#jennifer jareau x reader#jennifer jareau x you#jennifer jareau smut#jennifer jareau angst#criminal minds x reader#jennifer jareau imagine#jennifer jareau#jennifer jareau fanfiction#criminal minds#cm#Jennifer jareau x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction
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“I wish you would write a fic where...“ras smooches bruce c:
i deleted the prompt post cuz i thought no one gaf about it but yknw i will humor you dear anon
————
Ra’s understood that every life was sacred, but only few deserved to be saved. Even fewer a number deserved to recommence.
He took a moment to revel in the sight of the swirling green pit before him, always in awe of his own creation, even after all these years. The warm vapors rising from its surface were a stark contrast to the cold body beside him.
How he wished it hadn’t come to this…
There are things that must be done to ensure the progression of the world aligns with the Mission. Death is inevitable, sometimes it’s necessary. He held faith that Bruce would eventually grow to understand this.
Ra’s glanced down at Bruce’s body. Blood stains and tattered suit aside, Bruce looked at peace, as if he were sleeping instead of dead, curled in a fetal position.
At Ra’s’ instruction, the Shadows had buried Bruce in a pit of snow to preserve him. It was unnecessary, as the Lazarus Pit could heal more than a few weeks’ worth of death, but Ra’s had done it out of respect. Batman was not a foe you leave to rot.
He shifted, gathering Bruce’s body in to his arms. The clumps of ice clinging to Bruce’s hair were cold against Ra’s’ nose and lips as he pressed the lightest kiss atop Bruce’s head.
“I am sorry,” he apologized. Not for what had happened, but for what he was about to do.
The pit welcomed Bruce’s body as Ra’s carefully lowered him in before standing.
The water inside the pit gurgled and bubbled, hungrily dragging Bruce down beneath the surface, and Ra’s braced himself to fight the rage-filled beast that would emerge in his place.
Despite the gruesome nature of the situation, Ra’s couldn’t help but smirk as Bruce breached the water’s surface rapidly.
Every life was sacred. Few deserved to be saved. And even fewer a number deserved to recommence.
#character death#i think ra’s has immense respect for batman actually#so if bruce has to die it probably doesn’t make him happy#i took mild inspo from one bad day (mostly ra’s killing bruce)#let’s just say it was for something important happening and he needed bruce out of the way for it#and it was easier to kill him temporarily#writing#ra’s al ghul#batman#bruce wayne#ficlet
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**Using gateway tapes for void state*
Many people (especially Tumblr, I see y'all) are really interested in the void state. Me too honestly but here's the information that I got about the void state through the gateway tapes.
**By One-lawfulness**
“Glad to see others here who also use the gateway tapes. I'm starting to believe we'll 1 you can shift with them but more so F15 is essentially the void state. It seems they are described the same way.”
“ body asleep/ mind awake is indeed F10. However the void state from what I read is when your pure awareness. You don't feel the body, you can't see, hear, touch, etc. There is no body at all your simply awareness. There's a post I believe in one of the shifting groups where someone linked and reposted a Twitter post where someone went into detail on what is and isn't the void state. All I know is the void state while it shouldn't be hard to reach isn't as simple as some think. But it makes sense since it seems shifting, manifesting, etc is all instant from it.
This should link to the post
https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/18swmdp/definitive_guide_to_the_void_state/?share_id=1dj52vByrbmI3Q7rNmULO&utm_content=2&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_source=share&utm_term=
Well they say the focus levels are different for everyone but there are some general guidelines to it. Some where someone linked a page with a brief description of each focus level and when you read F15 I think or maybe 12 it's described as a void.
But if your looking for manifesting it seems some say you can do that in F10, 12, and 15 but I assume it's easier the higher you go.
(It's F15)
If I find the page with the focus level description I'll link it also
Found it
https://www.monroeinstituteuk.org/focus-levels/
Personal experience
what's recommended is once you get there the first thing is to manifest being able to enter it easily. Then from there do as you wish. That could work. I assume using it along with LOA is a great combo to help get into the void state the first time. When I was first trying the void state before using the gateway tapes I was in F10 essentially and couldn't fully go into it.
I stayed with F10 for a while but realized I was holding myself back because F10 wasn't hard to enter and I was saying I needed to master it first.
**By Beautiful_V**
F10 is SATS. SATS is the mind awake body asleep, you repeat a scene to mnaifest but that isn’t SATS it’s the state you do that hence state akin to sleep. You can manifest all the time using it! Instead of affirmations (lullaby method) I visualize until I fall asleep in this state. The trick is you can’t be too tired or too awake. Or even better just do it during a nap never takes me more than 3 days.
**Beautiful_v manifesting method**
“My routine”
-Do Wim Hof breathing technique
-Have theta waves immediately playing afterwards
-Count to whatever gets me to floaty feeling at first it was 500, now it’s 200/300 when you lose count just go back to the nearest 100th so you don’t fall asleep
-when I get the floaty feeling it means I’m about to fall asleep so affirm or visualize desired results.
-fall asleep in the wish fulfilled there will be no time for you to doubt because you’ll be too tired
-do this for 3-5 days it works in less depends on your beliefs but I always say 3 days because that’s what I read from Neville so I adopted that mindset !
**Big_suggestion9**
“Yes F10 is considered the void state”
Background: he has his own YouTube channel and is currently on wave 3 tape 6! He's personally like a mentor to me because I ask him about stuff. This is what he personally told me.
He's experience
https://youtube.com/@TheGatewayExperience?feature=shared
**My opinion**
Everyone is right in this discussion. Gateway tapes are based on personal experience. **No matter what, you need enter F10 for anything. Shifting, astral projection, void state. F10 void state or not. To achieve anything you need to achieve F10!**
**What do you recommend?**
You want to go into a void state? Then finish gateway tapes for F10 (gateway 1). Then do F12, after MASTERING everything. Go to manifest tape and affirm that you can go to void state instantly or whatever affirmation you want. Simple as that
**PLEASE READ**
(All credit to them, I did remove some digits from the username. Please do not contact them! I don't want to have a bunch of people flooding their Dms. If you have questions about it. Ask me and I will message them personally if it's that's okay. THANK YOU!)
#reality shifting#void state#void#shifting blog#manefesting#law of assumption#law of manifestation#gatewaytapes
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Guys, it was a false alarm 😭
Thanks for spreading the word anyways! Stay safe out there :)
⭐️⭐️⭐️
EVERYONE, PLEASE TEMPORARILY CLOSE YOUR ASKS!!!!!!!!!!
I've seen some posts about a group of Tumblr users that are planning to send disturbing images in asks on Christmas.
I cannot verify the validity of this truly disgusting claim, but it's better to be safe than sorry. I know many of my followers are minors (as am I), so please turn off your asks for the next little while, just in case!
On that note, my askbox will be closed until the new year, and I'd suggest you do the same :|
#important#please spread the word#this is so gross I wish I didn't have to be writing this post#but here we are#better safe than sorry#please stay safe guys#internet safety#online safety#trending#^^me manifesting as many people see this as possible
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Kiwi
Summary: Harry recently started his solo carrier and Sarah recommmeds y/n as his lead guitarist. Harry finds himself intimidated by y/n and y/n could not care less.
famous!harry ; an enemies to lovers trope
part two
warnings: mention of alcohol. Swearing. Suggestive language and sexual tension.
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“Come on Harry trust me on this. It won’t go downhill. She’s really good.” Sarah pleaded her case for the tenth time since the past one hour. Harry was certain she would talk his ear off.
“What was her name again?” Mitch asked Sarah.
“Y/n.”
“Sarah, I don’t know about this. I’ve known you all since a long time and it’s easy to work with you.” Harry said, slightly skeptical about a new addition to his team.
Harry knew who you were, a very successful songwriter and one hell of a guitar player. He knew you worked with bands like 5sos, 21 Pilots and even wrote a few songs on Taylor’s swifts album, Reputation. He saw you at a concert once and immediately fell in love with the way your presence consumed the concert wholly. No one cared about who was singing because everyone’s eyes were fixated on the young seductress clad in black leather and playing her instrument as if her life depended on it.
“You can only grow if you’re out of your comfort zone.” Sarah firmly stated, crossing her arms over her chest huffing out a breath.
Harry thought about it for a good minute. He needed someone with experience and you seemed to have it. You knew how to write and what to write. Perhaps a little experiment wouldn’t be so bad.
“Okay. I’m trusting your judgement on this.” Harry said nodding.
“Great because y/n’s in the elevator right now.” Sarah said giggling slightly. “Thank God you didn’t say no. Would’ve been a difficult conversation.” She mumbled, relived at how the situation panned out.
The apartment bell rang and Sarah jumped out of her seat startling Mitch who was sitting next to her. She took long strides towards the door.
“Y/n! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages! You look wonderful!” Sarah said hugging you. You smiled and hugged her back, glad to meet her once again after what seemed like a century.
“Thank you. How’ve you been?” You asked her, not bothering to take note of the two men who seemed to scrutinise your interaction with quite a lot of concentration.
“Same ol’ same ol” Sarah chuckled as she let you in.
“Harry, Mitch meet y/n.” Sarah introduced you to them. You found yourself in an awkward postion so you simply gave a wave and a loose smile.
If Harry was a ball of sunshine then you were a raging hurricane. The two of you were polar opposites. Harry radiated warmth and seemed to be the kind of person whom other people could talk to. Meanwhile you on the other hand were someone who kept to themselves.
Harry couldn’t help but notice your sweeping eyeliner. He observed it quite attentively, how it was winged at the edge of your eye and in the inner corner as well in a feline manner. You wore low waisted jeans with a fitted graphic black tee shirt that ended just below your navel, showing a silver of skin.
“So y/n, what’s your work like?” Mitch asked you.
“I write mainly rock but I’m open to new suggestions.” You said. Sarah nodded as if to say ‘awesome.’
Your voice was firm and authoritative as you answered the question. Harry found himself completly entranced by this complexity of a person that stood in front of him. He figured it out the minute you walked into the room with your head held high that working with you wouldn’t be easy.
“Do you have any questions Harry?” Sarah asked him. Harry only nodded no.
“Great. Im going out for a smoke.” You said leaving the three of them alone again.
“She’s scary.” Harry said once the door shut. Sarah rolled her eyes in response. “She’s a no nonsense person Harry.”
“And scary.” He added again.
“I know you’re not used to people like her. Just because you’re both literal opposites doesn’t mean she’ll eat you alive.” Sarah snorted. “You like her, don’t you Mitch?” Sarah asked him. Mitch only swallowed and replied, “I like her better on stage.”
“Oh hush both of you. Give her time.”
——————————————
“It doesn’t sound good.” Harry huffed out impatiently, staring at the lyrics he scribbled. It had been more than a week since everyone started to work on his debut album.
Harry began to habour a certain disliking for you, owing to lack of your participation and one word answers. You would sit away from everyone, scribble in your diary and would rarely look up from its pages.
“You know what guys, let’s just take a breather yeah?” Jeff, Harry’s manager said getting up from his chair and stretching his legs.
“I’m going out for a walk.” Sarah said, pulling Mitch to his feet as well. Harry was about to get up as well but Sarah mouthed to him; ‘talk to her’ as she gestured towards you. Harry looked at her with wide eyes and was ready to protest but Sarah was quick on her feet.
“Y/n.” Harry called out your name. You looked up at him, the loose strands strands of your braid fell down framing your face. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘speak on.’
Harry cleared his throat. “What are you writing?”
“Nothing much. Just an idea.” You said. That was the most you had spoken.
Harry noticed that today, there was no eyeliner but smudged kohl lining your eyes. You opted for a plain white tank top and a pair of mini cargo shorts. A surprise for Harry who was much too used to seeing you in black.
“I think, everyone would appreciate it if you would participate more you know?” Harry said. You only nodded and went back to scribbling.
“See! This is what you do y/n. You don’t talk. You’re so busy doing God knows what. I get it, you know you’re talented but that doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Harry exploded. You shut your dairy hard and stared at him with rage.
“It’s been almost two weeks since you joined us. Have you contributed in any way?” Harry added, his voice reaching a higher octave and getting louder by the second.
“First of all, I don’t think I’m fucking better than you and second of all, instead of blaming me why don’t you recognise the fact that you’re scared and absolutely clueless.” You spat at him.
“I’m not scared.” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah right.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. “You’re so scared that you’re putting the blame on me just because I’m the newbie. This solo carrier is new to you and that terrifies the shit out of you Harry. So much that you can’t even work. If I have to be the punching bag then I’m fucking leaving.” You stated grabbing your bag.
“You don’t know shit y/n.”
You didnt care about what Harry said next as you walked out of the room.
—————————————————
“Was it really necessary Harry?” Jeff said, rubbing his head with his hands. The stress of not having completed the album began to increase.
“I told you, ‘give her some time.’ Did you do that Harry? No. You just had to say something.” Sarah said, flinging her arms in the air.
“I mean, was Harry wrong though? Y/n was… just there you know. She didn’t talk, she didn’t help. Good riddance I say.” Mitch said.
The whole group was torn up over this. Harry began to feel guilt overpower him, but the rage he felt at your words was far too much for him to hone. He knew you were right and he hated you for that. He hated you for the fact that you were so good at reading him. Harry knew that you didn’t talk because you were shy but because you never found yourself as engaged as the others. You were aloof, and gave the impression that nothing bothered you at all.
“It’s been what; six days since she stormed off?” Jeff asked harry.
“Seven.”
“Jesus.”
Harry was certain that you overreacted to the situation. Granted, you didn’t want to be here and Harry left no stone unturned when it came to reminding you his dislike for you.
The door bell rang, Harry got up to look through the key hole. He felt the colour drain from his face. It was you. Standing in front of the door.
“It’s her.” Harry whispered with his eyes wide.
“You know I can hear you, ya dick. Open the door or I’m leaving.” You, irritation lacing your face.
You began to hate Harry or at least develop an aggressive aversion towards him as time passed. You hated how he seemed to have enough energy throughout the day to burst into a song. You hated that he was all smiles and giggles every second of the day. The only one thing you liked about him was how intimadated he was by you. But you knew that he could be much more terrifying than you when the time came.
“Pick your poison.” Mitch said.
Harry opened the door to meet your black smudged eyes. You push him as you enter the room and slam the diary on the centre table with a loud thud.
“Here you go. You said Im no help at all. Well I beg to differ. I’ve written three songs.” You said. Harry picked up the diary and flipped through the pages.
Kiwi
Medicine
Only angel
Strange names for such explicit songs.
Harry passed the diary to Sarah who looked at the songs with amazement.
“Harry we’ve got to add these.” Sarah said, excitement lacing her eyes.
“I don’t need anyone to plead my case. If he likes them, good enough.” You said, your voice unwavering as you looked at Harry who narrowed his eyes at you.
“I like them.”
—————————————
Within a week, all recordings were done and the album was ready to launch. Jeff suggested that the four of you should to go out, let off some steam because life would never be the same once the album got released.
Everyone was quite surprised when you suggested a place to party. You were quite intent on getting shit faced because the past month had been a whirlwind to say the least.
You wore a black mini dress, encased with sequins that was backless. Your eyes were lined with heavy kohl and mascara. Your whole face was bare other than your eyes.
“Johnnieeeee!” You exclaim to the large bouncer, a smile on your face as you high five him.
“Y/n been a long time. I see you’ve got friends.” He said, eyeing the people behind you.
Sarah felt that the club you brought them to too was far too dark and dingy for her liking. It was dark and the music was blaring. The club smelt of sex, drugs and alcohol. Your natural habitat. She held Mitchs hand in hers who was amused at her behaviour.
“I promise I’ll be good.” You say, looking up at him with doe eyes and a sly smile. John chuckled and let you in the club.
“We have go to do shots.” You exclaim to all three of them. Harry was surprised at your behaviour to say the least, he never would’ve pegged you as someone who even had the ability to smile let alone laugh.
“Nope. I’m driving.” Sarah said throwing her hands up in the air.
“Jeez such a buzzkill.” You said making Sarah roll her eyes. You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the bar with Harry and Mitch.
“Don’t stop till your at least ten shots down.” You said with a cunning smile and excited eyes.
“Ten?!” Mitch exclaimed.
“Six.” Harry interjected.
“Deal.”
Harry learnt a great deal about that night. Especially the fact that you have a tendency to dance with almost anyone and everyone.
He saw you make your way to the dancefloor, not bothered about the fact that you had no one to dance with. You swayed your hips to the song, your arms moving and a bright smile etched on your face. You were surrounded by men and women. Harry saw you dance with a man whom you didn’t know, he wished you would be that carefree with him.
After an hour of drinking and talking, Harry found you dancing on the table with a few other people.
“Is this normal?” He asked Sarah who snickered in response. “Yep. She’s a fun drunk.”
You spot Harry and get down from the table, stumbling forward. The strap of your heel loosened and Harry quickly caught hold of you.
“Wait a second.” Harry said, as he kneeled down to fix your strap. Once he got up he saw your glassy eyes laiden with lust and simply smirked.
“You like watching me get down on my knees for you, huh?” Harry whispered in your ear, his grip harsh around your waist as he pulled you towards himself . You felt heat rise up your thighs and stomach.
“Isn’t that what men are good for anways?” You whispered, closing any gap you two had as you put one hand behind his neck, tugging him closer to you. “Don’t think this changes anything betwen us Styles. You’re still a nightmare.” You whispered to him in his ear slowly.
You stood so close to each other that you could feel each others heat radiate. Harry’s heart raced as his eyes met yours. You were cautious with your gaze, afraid that if you looked any longer in his eyes, he might spot the hunger in yours just as you might see his making you lose any self control you exercised.
“I have someone waiting for me.” You spoke, breaking the silence. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement as his hands wandered down your waist to your lower back. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he left a bite there. You let out a soft moan, turning into complete putty in his grip.
“I could fuck you much better y/n.” He said, his voice dangerously low.
“I don’t want to be fucked missionary style that’ll leave me unsatisfied.”
“Your moan said otherwise.”
Two can play this game.
You wiggled out of his grip, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you sauntered towards the dance floor, blowing a kiss at Harry from a distance.
——————————————
“Hello?” Your groggy voice spoke into the microphone of your phone. Your head throbbing due to last night.
“Y/n. Where are you?” Jeff asked you.
“Home.”
“Come over to Harry’s. Got something to discuss.”
“I’ll be there in five.” You said before hanging up on the phone.
You washed your face, put on a large tee shirt and an oversized pair of sunglasses. You brushed your hair and slipped into your slippers. It was a ten minute drive to Harry’s house. The radio was silent. The windows were rolled down because you needed fresh air now more than ever.
You reached his flat and rang the doorbell.
“My my look who’s here.” Harry taunted as he opened the door to see you in an oversized tee shirt, legs bare and slippers. He couldn’t control all the thoughts that seemed to slip in and out his head as he saw your legs.
“Show me your eyes love.” Harry snickered knowing they must be bloodshot. You flipped him off and plopped down on the bean bag, groaning as you held your head.
“You seemed to have a lot of fun last night.” Mitch said, getting a stare from Sarah. “You should see the videos.” He added. Your head shot up at his words.
“Videos?”
“Yep. They’re too good.” He snickered. You removed your sunglasses and pounced at Harry who began to play videos of you dancing on table tops.
“Give. Me. The. Damn. Phone.” You said in between breathes as you attempted to strangle Harry. You were about to smack Harry but he picked you up by your waist, throwing you on his shoulder.
“Put me down.” You stated firmly.
“Only if you don’t strangle me.” Harry said chuckling at your sorry state.
“I don’t make promises Styles.”
“Too bad. I’ll post it if you continue to be a brat.” He said.
“Fine.”
Harry put you down, running a hand through your messy hair which you swatted off. He noticed how young you looked without lining your eyes, a different girl, perhaps even innocent. You looked like a doe. You looked beautiful.
“You’re drolling on the carpet Styles.” You said rolling your eyes at him.
“Am I supposed to deny that I find you attractive?” He questioned, his voice low and alluring. He spoke slow enough to make your thighs quiver. Your mind suddenly flashed you images of how his large hand felt against your waist last night.
“I’m too hungover for this.” The only defense left.
This was new to you. This feeling of loathing someone to no extent but also finding them undeniably attractive. Attractive enough to make your thoughts wander off to forbidden places and scenarios.
“What happened to your neck?” Sarah said, noticing the love bite that Harry left the other night. You rolled your head back as you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Harry felt proud to say the least, he smirked and winked at you while you barely controlled the urge to smash his face in the table neck to him.
“Why am I even here?” You said groaning. “The work is done. The albums done. What do you possibly need for me now?” You added.
“Come to tour with us.” Jeff said, his manager persona now showing.
“What?”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t in the contract Jeff.”
“Consider this, an impromptu decision.” He reasoned with you.
“I’ll do only concerts. No interviews. No playing for videos and no recordings.” You said.
“Deal.”
You huffed a breath as you reached for the glass of water next to you. “That’s mine!” Harry whined. You flipped him off as you wore your sunglasses and went to sleep.
“Oh y/n what’s your Instagram?” Jeff asked. You scoffed at his question, “don’t have one.” You simply said. “Well, Harry follows his band members so-”
“No.” and with that you went to sleep.
—————————————
The album was a success to say the least. Everyone seemed to recognise Harry as Harry styles and not as Harry from One Direction. It was bitter sweet to say the least. Harry was excited and enthralled to be able to embark a whole new journey.
The album release party was a success. But you weren’t there, Harry had called you not once but twice asking you why you weren’t there.
“Y/n, it’s already six, why aren’t you at the party?” Harry asked you on call.
“Because I didn’t plan on going.” A short answer. Your one word answers now began to become a bit longer but they annoyed Harry nonetheless.
“The whole band’s here.”
“I’m not part of your band Harry. I helped you write your songs.” You stated.
“But you’re going to tour with us.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
And now as Harry stood in front of the stage, waiting for the crowd to pour in, he wondered where you were. You had insisted on driving to the show venue on your own instead of travelling with the band. Harry tried to persuade you but you didn’t budge.
“Is she here?” Harry asked Jeff who only nodded no. Harry was getting worried now. He was supposed to get ready, but he was much to engaged in wondering about your whereabouts. It was his first show and your words about him being scared rang in his head.
“She’ll be here don’t worry.” Jeff said.
By the time Harry got ready, he spotted you, a cigarette in your mouth as you look towards the stage. You wore a latex, dark emerald coloured waistcoat that resembled a corset. It pushed your breasts together and ended just above the curve of your waist. You wore low waisted black bell bottoms. The waistcoat and the bell bottoms gave off the illusion of an hourglass figure. Your eyes were covered in your signature feline eyeliner, curving in the inner and outer corner of your eye.
“Y/n!” Harry called your name. You looked up at him, a lazy smile on your face as you disposed the cigarette.
“My my look at you styles. A fucking prince you are.” You said snickering. Harry stuck his tongue out at you. He wore a red blazer clad with black flowers and the same pattern was all over his trousers. His hair were unruly yet only added to his charm.
“Ya scared?” You asked him.
“No. I mean, I’m just…. excited yet scared you know?”
“Hmm.”
“You stick out like a sore thumb.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised at you as he scanned you up and down.
“Excuse me for not wanting to dress up as a fucking rainbow.” You said scowling at Harry who passed you a smile. “Y’know what would really go well with your top?” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “What?”
“Wait.” Harry ran off of to his dressing room, fetching a silver cross necklace. The cross was heavy and large, engraved with swirls and very small rubies decorating it. Harry gestured you to turn around, his hands brushed against your skin as he snapped it’s lock in place. The cross rested against the curve of your breasts, demanding attention and praise. “How about a hickey to tie your look together?” Harry questioned.
“From you? Not even in your dreams Styles.” You said. Harry smirked at you and went towards the stage.
—————————————
Harry felt alive. He felt free and invincible on stage. But you, you were the personification of sex. The minute Kiwi began to play, the crowds focus shifted from Harry to you.
You whipped your hair back and forth, your back arching, a cigarette encased in your pink lips, sweat gleaming down the curves of your waist, breasts and arms. The crowd went absolutely wild as you winked at them. Harry’s photographer, Lloyd was entranced with you. He couldn’t help but photograph you. Your eyebrows were sinched together in focus, your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open and your body fully arched.
After the first concert, the fans and media were deep diving into who you were and tried to uncover your identity. As the tour progressed, the crowd began to make posters stating things like “we’re here for y/n!” “Give us y/n!”
There were pictures of you everywhere, playing the guitar as your face morphed into an expression which Harry called your “orgasm face.”
Harry was asked about you during interviews as well, the media was left questioning about your identity and they found themselves allured by a recent stunt you pulled at a concert.
You jumped off the stage during Medicine and went up to a man, roughly around your age if not older. The man lit the cigarette in your mouth with his lighter as you winked at him and murmured “thank you love.”
—————————————
The tour had finally ended. You were in your dressing room, your chest heaving up and down. The adrenaline after the show still lingering in your blood stream. You removed your top and were standing in your bra, the minute Harry barged in.
“Knock on my door ya’dick!” You said, crossing your arms over your chest which did nothing at all to ease Harry since your breasts were pushed up.
After months of sexual tension, Harry finally felt himself crack.
“Got to teach you some manners.” You murmured.
“Really?” He tutted, pulling you by the loop of your jeans.
You understood where this was heading. “Hmm.” You hummed, moving your hands slowly on the buttons of his shirt. Harry caught your wrist making you look up at him. He looked in your eyes, deep and seriously as if to contemplate his actions. You pulled him by his neck, close enough that your foreheads touched.
“M’gonna regret this.” He whispered. He didn’t give you a chance to respond as he connected his lips to yours, his tongue swirling in your mouth. His hands wandered down the curve of your spine and lingered there. You deepened the kiss, letting your hunger overpower you. He wasn’t close enough, you needed his skin next to yours, rubbing, you needed to feel him, you needed him.
There was a knock on the door, you immediately recoil away from Harry although his hands were still on your bare back. “Y/n, Vanessa’s here for you.” Laura, his assistant said.
Vanessa and you were supposed to head out to paris the next morning. Harry felt a hole cave in his chest, remembering about your departure.
“I’ll be there.” You said.
You kissed Harry, a sweet and soulful kiss. Not the one that was ruled with consumption and the urge to mark.
“You should stay.” Harry whispered, holding you.
“I never stay anywhere for too long.”
Harry looked at you, his eyes staring into yours as you squeezed his hand. “Who’re you gonna strangle now?” You laughed remembering all the times you tried to strangle and choke him, resting your head on his chest.
“I’ve got to go.” You said, slipping out of his grip, slipping on a tee shirt as you picked up your stuff.
Harry looked at you with a look of longing. How stupid. How cruel. How unfair. He thought to himself as he saw you leave.
“When will I see you again?” He asked you.
“When it’s the right time.” You said, kissing his cheek.
——————————————
Authors note; how are we feeling about a part two? let me know in the comments section <3
#harry's house album#harry styles x reader#harry x y/n#harry imagine#harry fanfic#harry styles blog#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut#famous!harry#enemies to lovers#harry styles#one direction#harry one direction#harry one shot
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Chapter I: Recommence thine Journey
The clock struck midnight once more. You stood there in front of everyone at the ball where your fiancé had abandoned you for another woman. Having to relive such a thing 7 times beforehand though, you'd had enough.
"Alright, alright, I get it, keep him, I don't care" You interrupted Her monologue about why he'd chosen her over you. She watched, stunned in silence as you suddenly ran off in the direction of the exit.
Throughout your past 7 lives, you'd chosen a multitude of different paths for yourself, once even becoming a doctor, taught by the best of the best. Though, those stories could be saved for another time. You exited the castle and ran off into a direction you knew quite well. Your home. You'd noticed that each different direction led you to a completely different 'ending'. Though some of your lives were… cut short due to unfortunate circumstances.
Once you got far enough from the castle, you stopped running and instead walked carefully to avoid tripping. One wrong step and you'd most likely trip over a rock due to the rocky terrain. Even if you held up your dress and watched where you went, it was still a dangerous journey. You almost wished you'd taken a different route to get there.
All was well, however, once you finally arrived. Entering your home, you could tell the atmosphere was… different. Less welcoming. The maids and butlers looked at you with different expressions, some of disgust, others of hate. One thing you couldn't miss was the talking amongst everyone. Certainly because of the trouble stirred up by your ex-fiancés mistress. Even if the country was large, word spread easily so it was no wonder everyone had already found out.
You returned to your room, before which stood your parents, clearly disappointed.
"Mother, Father." You spoke up, greeting your parents politely, bowing before them.
"Ah, [Name]. You're here…" Your father replied, his eyes narrowing in your direction. Your parents turned to face you, your mother watching him with a disappointed look.
"Indeed, I am. Father, if I may-"
"That's enough now, dear. Listen to what we have to say." Your mother chimed in, cutting you off from speaking further. You sighed, glaring down at the ground. You never did like when they did this. At least it wasn't your fault they're this way this time.
"You're no longer engaged." He began, crossing his arms. "Quite disappointing… this will undoubtedly tarnish the family name. To make up for this… mishap… you will attend the masquerade next week, hosted by Prince Sunday."
It was him yet again. A name far too familiar to you.
——————
"Ah, you must be our new tailor! I humbly welcome you."
You were stood before him, happier than ever to have been hired by his family. It was quite the achievement for you, considering you were still fairly new to the profession.
"Please do follow me this way, towards your new workspace." He spoke, beckoning you to follow him further. He seemed harmless really, you didn't feel unease around him. He made you feel… comfortable. So, you followed him towards the location.
It was far larger than you anticipated, though that was to be expected of a royal families' budget for their workers. They wanted to ensure you could provide them with the highest quality clothes, of course.
The two of you spoke for some time before he left you alone to get acquainted with the new space.
——————
It was certainly a… time to remember. You sighed, shaking your head slightly.
"Very well then… I will attend the masquerade." You knew your parents were sending you there to have you find another suitable candidate for marriage. Truth be told, you'd already found plenty, however, they wouldn't know you just yet.
"Very good." Your father replied, somewhat monotonously.
"We must be off now, there's a meeting we must attend in the morning to sort out… the issue." You watched as your parents left, muttering things to each other, and though you couldn't quite hear anything, you simply assumed it was about the broken off engagement.
Soon enough, you finally retired to your room for the night and changed into your sleepwear. All those memories lingered in the back of your mind as you prepared yourself for sleep. It's not like most were bad, of course not. All apart from a few moments, everything was fine, really. Perhaps a bit sombre though.
You shook your head and sighed, though not feeling too tired yet, you made your way to your balcony and stepped outside. It overlooked a part of the city, allowing you to see people who remained awake at this hour, however little that was. Off to your right was the mansion you'd run off from.
You didn't really think about it anymore, it wasn't such a big deal. You turned your head to look in front of you, where in the distance stood Sunday's castle.
——————
"Your Highness, I'd appreciate if you would stop moving-" You spoke to him, attempting to get his measurements as he'd ordered a suit for an upcoming special occasion. However, he wasn't making your first official job for him easy.
"Please, no need for formalities. Just 'Sunday' will suffice." He cut you off, completely ignoring your request and instead moving yet again.
"Alright then… Sunday-"
"Ah! But the measuring tape is so cold!" He exclaimed, however, you knew better. The tape couldn't have possibly been cold considering you'd already finished measuring most of him, now attempting to get his waist measurement.
You weren't quite sure why he was suddenly acting childish, you simply chalked it up to his somewhat dramatic personality at times. Though, in truth, he wanted to prolong the procedure, enjoying all the attention you were giving him, even if it was only because you had to. He didn't mind.
——————
You hummed in thought, stepping away from the balcony and returned to your room. It wasn't particularly cold outside with the night air gradually growing warmer as the colder spring season faded into summer.
Finally, after a tiring day, you returned back inside and got in bed, soon after succumbing to slumber.
The next morning as you were happily preparing for an uneventful day, however, your mother had entered your room and quickly your plans to sit at home were discarded.
"[User], you'll be going to the town centre with one of our staff. She needs to buy a couple things for the chefs and I'm sure she'd appreciate some help." She stated, not giving you a choice this time. You assumed she still wasn't too happy about last nights' events.
"I understand." You replied to her demand, knowing there wouldn't be a way for you to change her mind once it was set. You watched as she smiled at you and left the room, leaving you to finish getting ready.
"Well… At least I won't be bored…" You muttered to yourself, not entirely displeased by the circumstances.
And so, there you were, wandering behind the employee at a leisurely pace and simply looking around the town. It hadn't really changed much since the last time you were there but at least you were having fun. You and the maid you were with arrived to a vegetable stall where she gave you a list of items to buy whilst she scavenged for the remainder of the ingredients.
She walked off, leaving you with an amount of money that she deemed enough to be able to purchase everything you needed to.
You grabbed the carrots, cabbage, cucumbers and other things listed on the piece of paper. Finally, you only had one more thing to buy: onions. You searched the entire stall, though you weren't able to find any so you asked the vendor, who redirected your gaze to the correct location.
You felt relieved to have finally found it, let alone when you discovered it was the last one for sale! Although it was unfortunate there weren't multiple, you were sure just one would be enough. For the time being. Just as you reached for it, your hand brushed against another persons'. You slightly jumped back, startled by the sudden encounter, though once you saw just who the person was, you paused.
You could feel your face heating up just a bit and your heart beating just a bit faster than usual.
——————
"Oh! Hello, I hear you recently got hired by the Royal Family to make clothes for them, is that right?" Jiaoqiu asked you curiously. You two didn't typically see each other considering you both worked in different parts of Sunday's castle, however, your inevitable meeting had certainly changed everything.
"Yes, that's right! You wouldn't happen to be one of the chefs, would you?" You asked jokingly, looking up at the chefs hat resting atop his head.
"I might be." He looked off to the side, almost attempting to look innocent. You couldn't deny, he had some kind of charm to him that made you want to spend more time with him. So you did.
After that meeting, most of your free time was spent in the kitchen with him or somewhere off to the side whenever both of you had some time off.
——————
"Oh! Uh… Hello…" You stammered, instinctually handing over the onion.
"Hello." He replied to your own greeting, watching you curiously before taking it, albeit hesitantly, before handing it right back.
"It's quite alright, you can have the onion." He seemed insistent, however, so were you. Nothing better than two stubborn people, after all!
You still remembered this side of him. Even if it's technically been 6 lifetimes, to you, it only felt like a day had passed… Which might not be entirely wrong as you still weren't sure just how this 'cycle' worked. All you knew is that you simply couldn't die as you'd be brought back to the moment you lost your fiancé. Perhaps the next death would be the end. You had no clue, which is why you decided you want this life to remain calm, without any unexpected adventures like before.
"No need, I can come back tomorrow." You rejected his offer, however, he certainly hadn't given up and instead placed the onion in your hand. You flushed at the sudden contact, watching as he happily walked away, picking out whatever else he needed from the stall before moving on.
After you'd nearly lost him in the crowd, you snapped out of your thoughts and paid for the onion before running over to him. Standing in front of him now, he looked at you somewhat surprised, clearly not expecting you to be this adamant about such a petty thing.
You held your hand out, offering him the onion yet again.
"Please, you can have it. I'm sure there's plenty in the kitchen at my house!" You put the onion in his basket. It certainly seemed rather ridiculous to fight over something as miniscule as this, although, it was incredibly reminiscent of old times. You knew he most likely wouldn't remember you or the past, but… you definitely hoped. You had hope he at least had the same feelings as you, as unlikely as that may be, especially due to how long it's been.
He took the onion out of his basket again and chuckled.
"But I insist!" He once again placed it in your hands, right as the maid you were with returned, having finally found you after you'd wandered off.
"Ah, there you are! I've been searching! You really shouldn't run off like that." She sighed, coming to stand next to you.
"Have you found everything? We really must get going now." The maid continued, finally glancing over at who you were speaking with. She simply nodded, not paying him much mind.
Glancing at your basket of vegetables, she seemed mostly satisfied, excluding the singular onion in your hands.
"I apologise for interrupting, however, I must be going now." Jiaoqiu spoke up, bowing slightly before he continued on his venture, you watching him go.
"Come now, let's go. I believe we have everything, yes?"
"Ah… yes, I believe so… I did do my best to get everything, at least. There was only one onion though." You hesitantly looked back at the maid, not particularly wanting to look away from Jiaoqiu.
"I see… that's rather unfortunate, but I suppose there's naught we can do." She hummed in thought before taking the vegetables from you.
"I'll merely return early tomorrow morn' to buy more." She began walking back towards your home, assuming you'd follow, which you did.
The walk back was peaceful. The two of you made small conversation, however, the maid didn't seem too keen on interacting, which you supposed didn't bother you much. You looked around the forest, enjoying the nature surrounding you, just as you had in each of your past lives.
Eventually, however, she notices you falling behind and urged you to walk faster.
"Come now, I'm sure your parents are expecting you back soon."
"That's alright… you can go on ahead and… if they ask, just tell them I'll be back soon." You told her, slowing your pace further and instead, you decided to saunter off the path and into the nearby forest. You glanced back and saw her nodding at you.
You looked around, wanting to kill some time. After a while of walking around, you picked a few flowers you found scattered around the ground, they looked to be in good condition, perhaps they'd survive until you got home sometime later. Though, it was highly improbable… you'd simply have to see how they do later on.
During your venture, you stuck to the path in the forest, following it quite far in. This wasn't anything unusual for you though, you remembered passing through here a few times before in your life. Before the whole 'loop' you've been going through… recently? Technically, it had been multiple years.
You sighed at the thought, looking down at the bouquet of flowers in your hands. Abruptly, you noticed movement in the corner of your eye. It looked to be white… hair? You paused, surveying the direction you saw it in, though couldn't see anything akin to it.
It was odd, you thought, but it was a public forest, so it made sense for there to be people. Although… there was just something so familiar about that white hair. Not many people had such a hair colour, after all. It reminded you of someone else you deeply cherish.
You remembered him well, even if it had been such a long time. You shook the thoughts away, deciding to finally begin the trek home as the sun had begun setting on the horizon.
Really, not much had happened on the way back, apart from a couple of rustling noises coming from bushes and trees surrounding you created by the wind or animals.
Finally, you saw your home in the distance. You'd noticed the atmosphere was growing surprisingly colder with the setting sun, so you sped up your walking pace, soon enough arriving inside and returning to your room.
You had hope tomorrow would be uneventful, though your sudden reunion with Jiaoqiu certainly had you thinking about venturing out again, albeit alone this time. It was strange to you. You thought you'd put those past lives behind you after so long and so many newer memories and yet, they remain fresh in your mind, especially after seeing Jiaoqiu earlier.
You wondered what your parents would demand you wear to the masquerade. Certainly something extravagant, to make you stand out as much as possible. You stayed up a while longer, reminiscing, thinking about the ball too, before deciding it was late enough to head to sleep. Although, you didn't feel particularly tired yet, so you merely laid in bed for perhaps an hour or two. You weren't too sure, but you did sleep eventually. <- Index next ->
#honkai star rail#reader insert#gn reader#fem reader#x reader#sunday hsr#jiaoqiu x reader#sunday x reader
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WANT SO BAD - CHAPTER TWO
WARNINGS : mentions of blood/light gore, weed, dirty jokes (hello I'm me)
A/N : hai guys here's a little treat before I lock the fuck in for exams (and die in the process :(( ) ALSO would you guys like a m.list for this series ?? / gen !! I'm happy to make one if you guys would like it !!
That was how it started. And it certainly wasn't going to end soon. Not with those two boys.
"Jisungie is in premed," Oh shit, Minho was talking to you.
"You gashed your knee pretty badly," the man examining you mumbles, "oh shit, you may need stitches."
Jisung is flipping through pages of his textbook, something about sutures. "So why were you going to the doctor?" Minho pipes up.
"N-needed a checkup?"
"Without an umbrella?"
"Never said I was smart."
"That's where I recognize you from!" Jisung pipes up, "you're in my Anatomy and Physiology class!"
"Way to go, Nancy Drew. What is this the case of the missing clock?" Minho's voice drips with sarcasm.
Jisung swats at Minho, who is currently sitting beside you on his bed. "No, she's so smart!" Jisung mumbles, "hyung, she carried our group in the project we had."
"I'm sure she did, Sungie."
"I try, believe me."
"This'll probably sting," Jisung mumbles to you.
Sting was an understatement, it felt like fire was being set to your skin. "Tell me if you need a break," Jisung gives you a look of pitty.
Minho's warm hand moves over to rest on top of yours comfortably. "Sungie once had to stitch up my thigh after a practice in the rain. Oh, it was aweful.," Minho hums, "my baby did a good job, though. And the scar is pretty kick-ass if I say so myself."
'My baby'? Were they-? You hadn't even fully registered the chemistry between the men as anything other than platonic. That was- until now. "So you two are-?" you get cut off by a yelp that comes from deep within you.
"We don't even know what we are," Minho scoffs, "isn't that right, jagi?"
"What Minho said," Jisung hums, his brows furrow in concentration, "we've been inseparable since freshman orientation, we don't know what we are but we're something."
"So you two? F-fuck?" you question, and almost regret it, due to how uncouth it makes you sound.
"Mhm," Jisung nods, his leg bounces as he stares at the wound that he's sewing up, "every Tuesday night!" he cracks.
Minho chuckles and his ears glow red with embarrassment.
When you wince from the pain, Minho is pushing your hair behind your ear and whispering to you, "you're doing great, don't look at it, it'll only make it worse, jagi."
Your eyes swell with tears as you try to hold in your whines and whimpers of pain. "Ji, I think she needs a break," Minho interrupts.
"I'm fine," you mumble through gritted teeth.
"She said she's okay, hyung."
"Ji, I said she needs a break," Minho's tone is firm.
It's like he can read your mind. Like he knows it was becoming too much for you to handle. "There, there," Minho consoles you.
He wipes away your tears and his hand rubs the small of your back, "you're doing so well, don't worry."
"I just have two more stitches left, don't worry, then you're all done," Jisung smiles up at you.
"O-Okay, I'm ready," you let out a shaky breath. It takes a moment before you feel the sharp sting of the needle puncturing your skin again. But it still hurts just as bad as before.
"Ah!" you cry, only for a moment.
"One... Two..." Jisung counts the stutches and finishes up the last suture, " there you go all done," he smiles as he ties the stitch.
"Good job," Minho praises you, "you took it so well."
His words go straight to your stomach. They erupt into butterflies. The words turn you inside out and then outside in, within a matter of seconds. "You definitely took it better than Minho-hyung when I was stitching him up," Jisung chides the other boy.
"Just take a ibuprofen as needed for the next few weeks, I'll help take the stitches out in a few weeks," Jisung instructs, "rest for a few days, and I don't recomme-"
The lights in the room flicker momentarily before they shut off completely. The only sound that can be heard us the rain slamming against the window and the three of you's hitched breaths. "Well that's fucking great!" Minho sighs.
"We may as well bunker down, Min, besides we are on a severe thunderstorm warning," Jisung looks to the older boy.
"Shit, we may as well get cozy."
That's how you ended up laying on Jisung's bed, your leg propped up, and Minho's pajamas thrown on. You pulled out your phone and pulled up your roommate, Felix's, contact.
y/n is typing ...
hey just fyi I'm not dead, stuck in this dorm with these two hot guys...
NBA YoungBoK is typing...
lucky bitch... smh who are they?
y/n is typing ...
Minho and Jisung? Minho's on the lacrosse team!
NBA YongBok is typing ...
DIVA YOU DID WHAT !?!?!?!?? THE MINHO AND JISUNG ??!?!?
y/n is typing ...
Lix are these your little parasocial classmates that you make up fanfics about?
NBA YoungBok is typing ...
... maybe??? besides they're FITTTTT lmk how it goes!! use protection diva!!
You turn your phone down and stare up at the popcorn ceiling above.
"You know," Jisung starts but is cut off by Minho grumbling, "Ya! Hyung, why are you groaning!"
"Because I know that whenever you start a sentence with 'You know' you're gonna say something really stupid."
"Nuh uh!" Jisung pouts, "regardless, I was gonna say, we should light a joint!"
You can't help but perk up when he says that. You aren't an addict by any means, but you enjoy an occasional blunt. "I think she likes that idea, Sungie," Minho teases you.
Your face hears up at his teasing, "You wanna?" Jisung looks at you expectingly.
You nod eagerly, and watch as he stands up and reaches underneath his bed. He pulls out a box and a lighter.
#bun.writes#bunwritesskz#skz#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids#stray kids x you#bun's series : wantsobad#minsung x reader#minsung fic#lee know fluff#lee minho x reader#lee know#lee know smut#lee minho#lee know x reader#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han jisung stray kids#han jisung smut#han jisung fluff#han jisung skz
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Japanese QL Corner
It's a quieter week as a few shows have just wrapped and the next wave hasn't started yet, but there is still Japanese ql airing, including what is shaping up to be an all time fav. Both of these current airing shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!
Love is Better the Second Time Around
This show is so good, and so mature in exactly the way I hoped. And I don't mean mature as in explicit--there is sex in this show but it's not some wild heat level. It's mature in that it's a story about characters who know themselves, know what they want, and draw boundaries. Both Iwanaga and Miyata are going down as favorite characters for me; I especially love that Miyata is a more knowing and self aware spin on a really well known bl archetype (think Rain from LITA but if he actually knew exactly why he was reacting the way he was to Payu and was mad about it instead of just overwhelmed and confused). This week we got a lot deeper into his teenage hurt over Iwanaga and now have a firm understanding of why he's alternately giving into and resisting this attraction. I am looking forward to Iwanga figuring out how to repair the damage he caused and earn his trust back.
My Strawberry Film
This was easily my favorite episode so far of this meandering little show. Every week I am left wondering what exactly this drama is trying to say and be; it certainly doesn't feel like a bl. We have spent the vast majority of our time on doomed het romance while Ryo quietly pines for his oblivious friend in the background. But this week we finally got to know Minami outside of Hikaru's narrow gaze, and I like her a lot. Her scene with Ryo where they discussed their romantic woes and established each other as a safe zone was very sweet, and showed how perceptive she is about all these dynamics happening around her. I was discussing with @bengiyo whether the show is going for an aromantic read with her, and I'm not sure. I see the makings of it, but the presentation of her feelings on romance feels a bit muddled. I loved her calling Hikaru out on being self-centered and having absolutely no patience for his petty jealousy. Hikaru thinks he likes her, but he doesn't actually know her (or his own best friend). I liked the final scene between Ryo and Hikaru as well, and the terrible angst of Ryo's confession that he immediately took back. The way the lights and audio from oncoming traffic played over his face in that scene was a really fantastic way to communicate both a moment of clarity and a moment of fear in the aftermath. I'm curious to see where this show takes the ending; a romantic conclusion for the two boys would not feel genuine to me at this point, but I could see them leaving us on a note of burgeoning curiosity and hope.
Bonus: No Touching At All
I recently watched this 2014 jbl on @twig-tea's recommendation, and I really loved it (I have already watched it twice and will definitely be doing so again). This is a classic office romance between a young gay man, Shima, and his "straight" boss, Toga. It's a simple story but well executed, and the film has a strong sense of place that I really loved. Shima and Toga have a fairly instantaneous attraction, and Toga is the kind of laidback character who simply never gave much thought to his sexuality and doesn't care about the fact that Shima is a man; he likes who he likes. Shima, however, is carrying a lot of internalized homophobia and trauma from closeted men messing him around in the past, and has a hard time believing in Toga's sincerity. I really love the way this conflict plays out in the story, and I especially love the way Toga talks to Shima. He's a no bullshit kind of guy and he tries his best to reassure Shima, but he's not a pushover, either. Ultimately Shima has to work through his own insecurities and make the choice to be brave to make the relationship work. The ending of this one is amazing and left me feeling very confident in this couple, and I can't recommend it highly enough. It's the grey for this one, unfortunately, but if you have trouble finding it in HQ let me know and I'll point you (don't watch it on YT, the version on there is potato quality).
#japanese ql corner#love is better the second time around#koi wo suru nara nidome ga joto#my strawberry film#no touching at all#japanese bl
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"You Belong With Me"
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Gojo x Fem!reader: Based on the song "You Belong with me by Taylor Swift. Got this idea when I read an oneshot based on Taylor Swift songs.
Idea credit: @seeingivy
Warnings: None ig but some cuss words.
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"Atleast try to hear me out", you hear a frustrated voice coming from Gojo's dorm room.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop but your curiosity got the better out of you when you saw his door slightly open and you could see Gojo sitting on his bed and talking to someone on call.
" I didn't mean it like that-", you see Gojo running his hand through his hair in frustation.
He sighs as the person on the other end abruptly cut his call.
Trying not to be suspicious you knock on his door "Gojo..?", he looks up at you through his black sunglasses.
" Y/n", he answers clearly tired due to his previous conversation.
"Yaga sensei is going to take extra class today us he told me to inform you", he just hums in response.
" Be ready in 5 minutes" , you state before leaving.
Judging by his expression you already knew who was on the other side of the call and you didn't wanted to think about it.
"Y/n!", Shoko exclaimed as she hugged you.
" Where's that stupid blue-eyed bastard?" , you laughed at her remark.
Shoko knew about your crush on Gojo and since he started dating someone from Kyoto School, Shoko has been giving him cold treatment.
"He said he was coming, well he was too busy to-", you paused , saying it aloud hurts more than you thought.
Shoko raised an eyebrow indicating you to go on. You sighed and continued "-to fight with his new girlfriend"
Shoko gave you a sympathetic look, everyone knew that you had a crush on that boy, everyone but him. How could someone be the strongest and yet so dumb?
Few minutes later Geto and Gojo came into the class. Geto sat beside Shoko while Gojo took the seat beside you.
"Y/n can I ask you something?", he whispered and you just nodded while paying attention to the lecture.
" What kind of music do girls like?", Gojo should just kill you right now, it would hurt less.
"People have different taste in music, Gojo. But I like to think that everyone loves Taylor Swift", You answered still not looking at him.
" No but my girlfriend doesn't like Taylor Swift, do you have any other recomm-", a chalk was thrown by Yaga sensei towards Gojo's head.
"Pay attention Satoru!"
After the class you and Shoko decided to hang out without the boys. You were walking down the street when you spot Gojo's favorite bakery.
"Wait Shoko. I want to buy something from there", you went there and bought Gojo's favorite cake and other cakes for everyone.
" Y/n, you should really stop that", Shoko sounded worried which was unusual for her.
"Stop what?", Shoko sighed at your response.
She pointed at the bag of cakes " You bought Gojo's favorite cake didn't you? That idiot doesn't even know you like him since our first year. Even Nanami could see it- heck even Suguru lost a bet to Yaga sensei because he said it would take Gojo six months to notice-"
"They did what?!"
"Oh never mind the last part", Shoko giggled "But Y/n, I mean it . You deserve someone who will care for you"
"I'm trying Shoko. I really am", you gave her a half hearted smile.
After reaching campus you both go to Suguru's dorm and eat the desert together.
" Satoru, what happened today with your girlfriend?", Suguru asked while taking a bite of his cake.
"I made a joke and she got angry", the white-haired boy sighed.
"Only Y/n likes your stupid jokes", you hit Shoko on her knee.
For the first time today Gojo's face lit up with a smile which you light up this whole town.
" You really do don't you? You even brought my favorite cake.", You playfully hit Gojo on his arm.
"Oh don't falter yourself, I only like some of your jokes", everyone broke into a laugh.
"But seriously Satoru don't you get tired of fighting all the time? Isn't this the 5th time you guys are fighting and it's only been a month", Suguru stated and the room grew silent.
Gojo didn't know how to respond to that, he didn't know what to respond ?That he's just dating her because he can't get over his feelings for his classmate.
"Oh I'm sure they can handle their own relationship Suguru", You said as you tried to break the tension. Gojo gave you a smile and you returned it.
" Okkkkkkk as this has got awkward so me and Y/n will be going ", Shoko hooked her arm around yours and got out of the room.
"Whatever you are doing is not right Satoru", Suguru also left the room and his friend sat their not knowing what to do.
At night you couldn't sleep and went outside to take a walk when you saw Gojo sitting on a bench. You were just trying to walk off in other direction ,trying to avoid him when he called you out.
Guess you couldn't escape his his six-eyes after all.
"What are you doing here this late?", Gojo asked , his voiced showed concern.
" You shouldn't be the one talking.", you rolled your eyes at him.
He laughed at your response. This side of you always attracted him.
He made place for you to sit on the bench and you obeyed his command like he had you under some kind of spell.
"You remember how you came to my dorm at a night like this because I watched 'The Notebook' and couldn't stop crying?", Satoru asked looking at the stars.
" Yes yes and how I googled up cheesy jokes to make you laugh ", you both giggle at the fond memory.
" You always have a way to make me laugh ", he said looking at you.
" And you still didn't choose me", you thought sadly.
"Want to listen to some music?", you asked and he nodded so you took out your phone and your earphones.
You played " The 1" by Taylor Swift.
"Hey that's my favorite song of her", Gojo stated like a excited puppy.
" I thought you didn't listen to her?", you were surprised that he even knew this song.
"Well you always play her songs in your dorm and I love this one and the other one 'You Belong With Me'"
"Oh the Irony!", you thought. He didn't know that you played those songs with him in mind.
" You know Y/n, If I hadn't been a sorcerer I would have opened a bakery. I actually want to try it sometime", He stated out of nowhere.
"You're so random."
"Oh I don't know whenever I'm with you it feels like I can talk about anything. You are my safe place Y/n.", and that was your last straw.
He says all these things , seeks comfort in you, laughs with you, cry on your shoulder but can't he see that you're the one who understands him?That you're the one who has been here all along with him?
" You belong with me", the words in your mind didn't match the words on your lips.
You stood up quickly, "I'm feeling sleepy. I think I'm gonna go", you didn't want to stay there one more minute , everything hurts even the cold air hitting your face feels like knifes stabbing.
Gojo sat there dumbfounded , you rushed out from the scene so quickly that he didn't even get to bid you good night.
The next morning you avoided Gojo like a plague. You paired up with Suguru instead of Gojo today and he seemed to notice this change in your behaviour.
Later Gojo went on to seek advice from his best friend. " Do you think Y/n is angry with me?"
"Did you do something?", Suguru yawned not interested in his friends question because he knows Gojo is really dense.
" No we were sitting on the bench last night and then she hurried to her room and this morning she has been avoiding me"
"You definitely did something", Suguru nodded philosophically at his own response.
" You're not being much of a help Suguru ",
" Alright Alright, tell me everything what happened last night "
"YOU FUCKING DUMBASS", the raven haired shouted at his friend.
" WHY DO YOU DO THAT?"
"DO WHAT?", Gojo matched his friend's energy.
Suguru rubbed his temple, annoyed at Gojo's behaviour.
" You give Y/n mixed signals and you get yourself a girlfriend when you clearly like Y/n!"
"But she doesn't like me back", Suguru looked like he could kill his best friend any moment now.
" I was not going to say it because it wasn't my place to do so but since you are so dense I'm gonna break it to you", Suguru spoke with frustration
"Y/n. Likes. You."
"HUH?", the strongest sorcerer was left speechless.
" There you go. Even Yaga sensei knew it! I lost a bet to him that you would notice it in six months but it's been a year now.
"You did what?!"
"Just make sure to give me the money I lost because of you being an Idiot", Suguru patted his friend's back.
" But Suguru... What will I do now?", Gojo trailed off thinking about ways to make it up to you.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
A/n: Not proof read. Should I make a part 2?
Also I'm sorry for not working on the requests my writer's block lasted way longer than I expected but I will try to finish those.
Hope you liked it and Take care <3
Part 2: Enchanted
#anime x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#taylor swift#fearless#you belong with me#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk season 2#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo saturo#jjk gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jujutsu sorcerer#fearless taylor’s version#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fandom#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk oneshot#anime x y/n#getou suguru#shoko ieiri#jujutsu kaisen season 2#friends to lovers
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a warriors love
pairing: neteyam x female omatikaya!reader
WC: 1.7K
warnings: shouting, mentions of cuts and blood. took inspiration from the recomms kidnapping the sullys in the forest.
summary: you have an argument with neteyam out of fear
A/N: lowercase on purpose, sorry if that bothers you. this was something i just word vomited in my doc. Inspired from a prompt i found off pintrest, “you can’t protect everyone” “i have to try”
does the end kinda suck... maybe but i wanted something short and kinda left off for imagination.
been in the drafts since march 12
masterlist
the quiet was eerie. everything felt too still as if time froze and you were the only one to notice the change in your environment. it was like you just lost the ability to hear anything besides your own body.
everything was so loud just moments ago. shouting of commands, the breathing in your twitching ears, the sudden onslaught of bullets and arrows raining hell upon your captive form along with the three sully children and their human companion.
your heart was pounding in your ears but your instincts kicked into gear and you kicked and bit the sky demon and ran deep into the forest with the others, hands tied in front of you and legs pushing you further into the trees.
it all stopped when you toppled into another body, one you weren’t sure of being friend or foe so you struggled in their strong grip. their arms caging you against their chest and you could feel the tears stinging against your eyes and the choked feeling growing in your throat, your screams showing your growing fear. only when you felt the barest touch along your cheek and the gentle whispers of comforting words did you stop your fighting. the tears only flowed faster.
“mawey yawne. mawey.” (calm beloved. calm)
neteyam’s soothing voice sang within your ears and deep within your brain. a hand petting your braids atop your head, even digging his fingers to feel your scalp. his other hand pressed to your back, making your chest flush with his, encasing the both of you in a reality check.
you were alive. you escaped. he saved you. his family was safe.
and all that led to now. you sitting on the floor of your small mauri, eyes focused on nothing before you with your body hunched over your crossed lap. hands mindlessly picking at skin and twisting or bending fingers, or a knee bouncing to an unknown sound only you can locate. even a small rocking motion came upon your body, it was like you were in a fixed trance.
his arms being wrapped tight around your shoulders stopped all functions. slowly you realized what was happening and sluggishly you moved your arms securely along his waist, a firm tug to pull him impossibly closer. your faces tucked into the crooks of each other's necks, deeply inhaling the other scents, feeling the movement of your chest as you breathed in and out.
“neteyam…” your lips brushed his skin, and you gave a tremble to his name. he shushed you, his nose rubbing against your pulse point. his lashes a light tickle on your neck just below your jaw. “focus on your breathing first. your heart putters like that of a hummingbird's wings.”
neteyam pulled away and you started to panic, but all he did was place a hand against your heart and he tugged one of yours to do the same, “follow my heart. listen to my breathing. calm and steady.” you closed your eyes to just focus on the thump thump thump of neteyam’s steady heart.
when you felt relatively calmer, less jumpy you peeled your closed eyes open and stared directly into neteyam’s clouded golden orbs. they looked to be shadowed by different emotions, only one you can see at the top of his emotional surface. anger.
a hand limply touched his cheek, just a ghostly sweep of your fingertips. and before you could move further or speak, fast-paced steps echoed against the cave walls and entered your mauri. kiri walked forward with a woven basket of herbs and salves but stopped short when she looked up from the floor to the two of you still seated in front of each other, neither moving away only straying your eyes to her.
“oh, uh… sa’nu and sempu (mom and dad) sent me to fix any wounds. grandmother is busy with others.” she shuffled on her feet, noting the heavy air.
neteyam stood up and walked over to his sister, taking the basket into his hands, “i shall mend her wounds. stay with tuk and lo’ak, make sure they are okay.” he gave a squeeze to her right bicep and she nodded to the both of you before walking away.
neteyam moved quietly as he worked preparing the paste that would keep any cuts from getting infected and set aside the herbs for wrapping or for swelling bruises. you just watched as he kept his head and eyes down focused, mouth pulled into a thin, tight line showing he was keeping words to himself.
“neteyam… please don’t keep thoughts to yourself. tell me what troubles your mind.” a hand resting on his knee.
his movements stilled and you thought he was about to open up, but instead he mumbled lowly, “this might sting,” and he scooped the thick yellow paste onto two fingers and slathered the medicine along a long and red cut to your forearm. you flinched in his hold, eyes shutting tight with your fingers closing into fists and your breath sucked in through your teeth.
you heard the mumbled “sorries” and felt his hold that was firm but his fingers were delicate. he moved from the cut on your bicep to a cut along your collarbone. the sting wasn’t there as he worked so you focused your attention back on him, needing to hear his voice and thoughts.
“‘teyam, please. i-i know what happened was scary, but not talking to me is worrying me more. it was not our intention to get taken hostage by the demons, they caught us off guard as we were exploring, and- and i know we… yes we went to an area that was off limits. but- but everything was cleared and when i started to get worried i told them we needed to leave and that’s when they arrived, and that’s when we had lo’ak call in.”
neteyam just worked, not stopping to look at you or speak with you, his eyes stayed on your damaged skin. it was making you frustrated. you didn’t mind his silence usually, but it was always a welcomed silence when both of you just wanted to soak up the other’s presence, this was an angered silence. he was giving you the silent treatment.
“neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan i do not appreciate this silence. i would rather have you yell at me than ignore me as i am trying to talk to you. i know you have some words dancing on your tongue just waiting to be spewed in my face, well speak them.” you jerked away from his gentle touch and you missed it, but he was hurting your heart.
he stayed on his knees, head bowed as he stared at his hands, palms facing the sky. his braids closed off his face, his emotions that you usually could read like an open book, but now he was a clouded sky that wouldn’t let the sun shine through.
your lips trembled and eyes watered, your arms covering your stomach as a protective blanket from this vulnerability. “when i was being choked by their hand around my throat and my queue being tugged harshly, i thought i was to die in that moment. they held knives at each of us, ready to stab if we were to make any move to freedom. and- and as the night crept upon us as they waited for your sempul (father) so they could kill him along with us, i just thought of you. thought of your smile and your comforting laughter that i have to wrangle from you most of the time because you can be too stubborn for your own good. how i would miss the touch of your fingers on my skin, rubbing circles into my hips or caressing my cheeks as we gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. how there were so many words i have yet-“
“i could have lost you! you could have been killed long before we arrived to help! i would stumble upon your lifeless body! do you not know how that would completely break me apart? i wouldn’t be able to live without you, without your soothing words and quiet company. i- i would want to die right with you, even if it hurt my family…i wouldn’t- your loss would just rip my heart out of my chest and completely tear it to shreds.”
his words shrieked loud like a ikran’s cry within your eardrums. your whole body stopped moving and you stood motionless, the air stolen from your lungs and your heart forgetting its automatic beating. your arms fell from their protective hold on your stomach before your feet carried you back to neteyam, knees crouching to the ground. with a hand, you tucked it under his chin and pushed his head up to make proper eye contact and that’s when your heart completely broke in your chest.
his usual glowing irises were surrounded in a red hue from the running tears that left stains under his eyes and along his cheeks. thumbs jumped into action and swiped away the pain that this situation has caused him, you hated seeing him so stressed and worn out.
“ma ‘teyam… i hadn’t meant to put us- put you in this type of position. i never want to be the cause of pain for you and- and i know this whole problem could have been avoided if- if i was a bit stricter with lo’ak and his impulse decisions. but we must now focus on our present.” you connected your foreheads together, thumbs still running over his cheeks.
neteyam wrapped his hands around your wrist, his nose bumping into yours, “i’m supposed to protect you, protect my family and i have failed my purpose.”
“no neteyam. your sole purpose isn’t to be a protector… well actually kinda is- anyway, what- what i am trying to say is. you cannot save everyone neteyam, sometimes Eywa chooses whose life ends if it keeps the balance.”
“i have to try. i have to try and save everyone, especially my family and you. life would never be the same if any of you were to leave in a tragic way.” you pushed braids behind his ears, “and life would be dull and fruitless without you, neteyam. we must protect each other, that is our purpose.”
...
#neteyam imagine#neteyam x omaticaya!reader#neteyam x omatikaya!reader#neteyam#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam x reader#neteyam angst#avatar imagine#avatar x reader#james cameron avatar#avatar the way of water#avatar the way of water imagine
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yyeag!!!!! (ok rq this is genuinely the fastest way to loop as far as i know. but also like it still takes nearly 2 hours straight to get 1k if you actually do this do not explode your hand. recommence enrichment)
TIPS:
fiest: go to the rock trap siffrins lovr rocks (he would've told me if they didn't)
two: go padt it for now actually. if your siffron has been taught memory of sadnesses yuo can equip it. if you scare a sadness into his spot he can become really fasy (gltich) (secret siffrin trainimg techniqie) (on floor one by big tear hallway)
ttgree: call loop one ghousand times (deals with seperation anxiety. also allow your siffin to zone out utnil they can do ig all time. like when zoning out time is over and you let go and repress really fast) (skips dialgoue when looping so they get to go back to tree faster) [you don't need to do it one htousand times. unoess siffrin ireally needs it]
:four DO NOT EQUOP MEMORY OF SELF!!! they need to think about rock. a d loop. not himself
five: find tear in hallway. press. enircment
six: go back to floor 1 and loop until yuor siffn is feeling too sad about beicng away from loup.
seven: return to tree. siffrin is happy i tjink (weigjt of one tjousand rocks upon their shoulders)
[ok not acting like this is a regular thing to do. i've only shared this information in a few other places. i don't know why i decided to figure this out. don't try to ask]
Thank you so much for your advice, wise one. I also appreciate you taking my Siffrin's separation anxiety into account, I'm sure he will appreciate it
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